Left entirely by themselves, at the other end of the room, Romayne and Stella justified Lady Loring’s belief in the result of reducing her husband to a state of repose. Stella ventured to speak first, in a discreet undertone.
“Do you pass most of your evenings alone, Mr. Romayne?”
“Not quite alone. I have the company of my books.”
“Are your books the companions that you like best?”
“I have been true to those companions, Miss Eyrecourt, for many years. If the doctors are to be believed, my books have not treated me very well in return. They have broken down my health, and have made me, I am afraid, a very unsocial man.” He seemed about to say more, and suddenly checked the impulse. “Why am I talking of myself?” he resumed with a smile. “I never do it at other times. Is this another result of your influence over me?”
He put the question with an assumed gayety. Stella made no effort, on her side, to answer him in the same tone.
“I almost wish I really had some influence over you,” she said, gravely and sadly.
“Why?”
“I should try to induce you to shut up your books, and choose some living companion who might restore you to your happier self.”
“It is already done,” said Romayne; “I have a new companion in Mr. Penrose.”