“Have you known Miss Eyrecourt for a long time?”
“She is my wife’s oldest and dearest friend. I think, Romayne, you would feel interested in Stella, if you saw more of her.”
Romayne bowed in silent submission to Lord Loring’s prophetic remark. “Let us look at the pictures,” he said, quietly.
As he moved down the gallery, the two priests met him. Father Benwell saw his opportunity of helping Penrose to produce a favorable impression.
“Forgive the curiosity of an old student, Mr. Romayne,” he said in his pleasant, cheerful way. “Lord Loring tells me you have sent to the country for your books. Do you find a London hotel favorable to study?”
“It is a very quiet hotel,” Romayne answered, “and the people know my ways.” He turned to Arthur. “I have my own set of rooms, Mr. Penrose,” he continued—“with a room at your disposal. I used to enjoy the solitude of my house in the country. My tastes have lately changed—there are times now when I want to see the life in the streets, as a relief. Though we are in a hotel, I can promise that you will not be troubled by interruptions, when you kindly lend me the use of your pen.”
Father Benwell answered before Penrose could speak. “You may perhaps find my young friend’s memory of some use to you, Mr. Romayne, as well as his pen. Penrose has studied in the Vatican Library. If your reading leads you that way, he knows more than most men of the rare old manuscripts which treat of the early history of Christianity.”
This delicately managed reference to the projected work on “The Origin of Religions” produced its effect.
“I should like very much, Mr. Penrose, to speak to you about those manuscripts,” Romayne said. “Copies of some of them may perhaps be in the British Museum. Is it asking too much to inquire if you are disengaged this morning?”
“I am entirely at your service, Mr. Romayne.”