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He had only met with it himself in the National
Library at Paris.
This information led Romayne to London again, immediately. For the first
time he called at Father Benwell's lodgings. The priest was at home,
expecting the visit. His welcome was the perfection of unassuming
politeness. He asked for the last news of "poor Mrs. Eyrecourt's
health," with the sympathy of a true friend.
"I had the honor of drinking tea with Mrs. Eyrecourt, some little time
since," he said. "Her flow of conversation was never more delightful--it
seemed impossible to associate the idea of illness with so bright
a creature. And how well she kept the secret of your contemplated
marriage! May I offer my humble congratulations and good wishes?"
Romayne thought it needless to say that Mrs. Eyrecourt had not been
trusted with the secret until the wedding day was close at hand. "My
wife and I agreed in wishing to be married as quietly as possible," he
answered, after making the customary acknowledgments.
"And Mrs. Romayne?" pursued Father Benwell. "This is a sad trial for
her.


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