id,
"I can't match your resignation. Give me something to look forward to. I
must and will see you again."

Penrose smiled sadly. "You know that my career in life depends wholly
on my superiors," he answered. "But if I am still in England--and if you
have sorrows in the future that I can share and alleviate--only let me
know it. There is nothing within the compass of my power which I will
not do for your sake. God bless and prosper you! Good-by!"

In spite of his fortitude, the tears rose in his eyes. He hurried out of
the room.

Romayne sat down at his writing-table, and hid his face in his hands.
He had entered the room with the bright image of Stella in his mind.
The image had faded from it now--the grief that was in him not even the
beloved woman could share. His thoughts were wholly with the brave
and patient Christian who had left him--the true man, whose spotless
integrity no evil influence could corrupt. By what inscrutable fatality
do some men find their way into spheres that are unworthy of them? Oh,
Penrose, if the priests of your Order were all like you, how easily I
should be converted! These were Romayne's thoughts, in the stillness of
the first hours of the morning. The books of which his lost friend had
spoken were close by him on the table. He opened one of them, and turned
to a page marked by pencil lines. His sensitive nature was troubled to
its inmost depths. The confession of that Faith which had upheld Penrose
was before him in words. The impulse was strong in him to read those
words, and think over them again.

He trimmed his lamp, and bent his mind on his book. While he was still
reading, the ball at Lord Loring's house came to its end. Stella and
Lady Loring were alone together, talking of him, before they retired to
their rooms.

"Forgive me for owning it plainly," said Lady Loring--"I think you and
your mother are a little too ready to suspect Father Benwell without
any discoverable cause. Thousands of people go to Clovelly, and Beaupark
House is one of the show-places in the neighborhood. Is there a little
Protestant prejudice in this new idea of yours?"

Stella made no reply; she seemed to be lost in her own thoughts.

Lady Loring went on.

"I am open to conviction, my dear. If you will only tell me what
interest Father Benwell can have in knowing about you and Winterfield--"

Stella suddenly looked up. "Let us speak of another person," she said;
"I own I don't like Father Ben