lied.

My head turned giddy, my heart beat furiously. Lord Loring looked at
me--ran to the luncheon table in the next room--and returned with a
glass of wine. I really don't know whether I drank the wine or not. I
know I stammered out another inquiry in one word.

"Reconciled?" I said.

"Yes, Mr. Winterfield--reconciled, before he dies."

We were both silent for a while.

What was he thinking of? I don't know. What was I thinking of? I daren't
write it down.

Lord Loring resumed by expressing some anxiety on the subject of my
health. I made the best excuse for myself that I could, and told him of
the rescue of Penrose. He had heard of my object in leaving England, and
heartily congratulated me. "This will be welcome news indeed," he said,
"to Father Benwell."

Even the name of Father Benwell now excites my distrust. "Is _he_ in
Paris too?" I inquired.

"He left Paris last night," Lord Loring answered; "and he is now in
London, on important business (as I understand) connected with Romayne's
affairs."

I instantly thought of the boy.

"Is Romayne in possession of his faculties?" I asked.

"In complete possession."

"While justice is in his power, has he done justice to his son?"

Lord Loring looked a little confused. "I have not heard," was all he
said in reply.

I was far from satisfied. "You are one of Romayne's oldest friends," I
persisted. "Have you not seen him yourself?"

"I have seen him more than once. But he has never referred to his
affairs." Having said this he hastily changed the subject. "Is there any
other information that I can give you?" he suggested.

I had still to learn under what circumstances Romayne had left Italy for
France, and how the event of his illness in Paris had been communicated
to his wife. Lord Loring had only to draw on his own recollections to
enlighten me.

"Lady Loring and I passed the last winter in Rome," he said. "And,
there, we saw Romayne. You look surprised. Perhaps you are aware that
we had offended him, by advice which we thought it our duty to offer to
Stella before her marriage?"

I was certainly thinking of what Stella had said of the Lorings on the
memorable day when she visited me at the hotel.

"Romayne would probably have refused to receive us," Lord Loring
resumed, "but for the gratifying circumstance of my having been admitted
to an interview with the Pope. The Holy Father spoke of him with the
most condescending kindness; and, hearing that