And yet there is something wrong--for this plain reason, that there is something to be concealed in the past lives of Mr. Winterfield and Miss Eyrecourt.
Under these perplexing circumstances, what use have I made of my opportunities? I am going to surprise you again--I have mentioned Romayne’s name to Mr. Winterfield; and I have ascertained that they are, so far, perfect strangers to one another--and that is all.
The little incident of mentioning Romayne arose out of my examination of the library. I discovered certain old volumes, which may one day be of use to him, if he continues his contemplated work on the Origin of Religions. Hearing me express myself to this effect, Mr. Winterfield replied with the readiest kindness:
“I can’t compare myself to my excellent father,” he said; “but I have at least inherited his respect for the writers of books. My library is a treasure which I hold in trust for the interests of literature. Pray say so, from me, to your friend Mr. Romayne.”
And what does this amount to?--you will ask. My reverend friend, it offers me an opportunity, in the future, of bringing Romayne and Winterfield together. Do you see the complications which may ensue? If I can put no other difficulty in Miss Eyrecourt’s way, I think there is fruitful promise of a scandal of some kind arising out of the introduction to each other of those two men. You will agree with me that a scandal may prove a valuable obstacle in the way of a marriage.
Mr. Winterfield has kindly invited me to call on him when he is next in London. I may then have opportunities of putting questions which I could not venture to ask on a short acquaintance.
In the meantime, I have obtained another introduction since my return to town. I have been presented to Miss Eyrecourt’s mother, and I am invited to drink tea with her on Wednesday. My next letter may tell you--what Penrose ought to have discovered--whether Romayne has been already entrapped into a marriage engagement or not.
Farewell for the present. Remind the Reverend Fathers, with my respects, that I possess one of the valuable qualities of an Englishman--I never know when I am beaten.
MORE than six weeks had passed. The wedded lovers were still enjoying their honeymoon at Vange Abbey.