n. My confession won't take long--and I
really must give that poor pale daughter of mine a glass of wine. A
student of human nature like you--they say all priests are students of
human nature; accustomed of course to be consulted in difficulties,
and to hear _real_ confessions--must know that we poor women are sadly
subject to whims and caprices. We can't resist them as men do; and the
dear good men generally make allowances for us. Well, do you know that
place of Mr. Winterfield's is one of my caprices? Oh, dear, I speak
carelessly; I ought to have said the place represents one of my
caprices. In short. Father Benwell, Beaupark House is perfectly odious
to me, and I think Clovelly the most overrated place in the world. I
haven't the least reason to give, but so it is. Excessively foolish of
me. It's like hysterics, I can't help it; I'm sure you will forgive me.
There isn't a place on the habitable globe that I am not ready to feel
interested in, except detestable Devonshire. I am so sorry you went
there. The next time you have a holiday, take my advice. Try the
Continent."

"I should like it of all things," said Father Benwell. "Only I don't
speak French. Allow me to get Miss Eyrecourt a glass of wine."

He spoke with the most perfect temper and tranquillity. Having paid his
little attention to Stella, and having relieved her of the empty glass,
he took his leave, with a parting request thoroughly characteristic of
the man.

"Are you staying in town, Mrs. Eyrecourt?" he asked.

"Oh, of course, at the height of the season!"

"May I have the honor of calling on you--and talking a little more about
the Continent?"

If he had said it in so many words he could hardly have informed Mrs.
Eyrecourt more plainly that he thoroughly understood her, and that he
meant to try again. Strong in the worldly training of half a lifetime,
she at once informed him of her address, with the complimentary phrases
proper to the occasion. "Five o'clock tea on Wednesdays, Father Benwell.
Don't forget!"

The moment he was gone, she drew her daughter into a quiet corner.
"Don't be frightened, Stella. That sly old person has some interest in
trying to find out about Winterfield. Do you know why?"

"Indeed I don't, mamma. I hate him!"

"Oh, hush! hush! Hate him as much as you like; but always be civil to
him. Tell me--have you been in the conservatory with Romayne?"

"Yes."

"All going on well?"

"Yes."

"My sweet child! Dear, dear