quite so foolish as I once
thought. The Father has unexpectedly left us--with a well-framed excuse
which satisfied Lord Loring. It fails to satisfy Me. Not from any
wonderful exercise of penetration on my part, but in consequence of
something I have just heard in course of conversation with a Catholic
friend. Father Benwell, my dear, turns out to be a Jesuit; and, what is
more, a person of such high authority in the Order, that his concealment
of his rank, while he was with us, must have been a matter of necessity.
He must have had some very serious motive for occupying a position so
entirely beneath him as his position in our house. I have not the shadow
of a reason for associating this startling discovery with dear Stella's
painful misgivings--and yet there is something in my mind which makes me
want to hear what Stella's mother thinks. Come and have a talk about it
as soon as you possibly can."

Mrs. Eyrecourt put the letter in her pocket smiling quietly to herself.

Applying to Lady Loring's letter the infallible system of solution which
she had revealed to her daughter, Mrs. Eyrecourt solved the mystery of
the priest's conduct without a moment's hesitation. Lord Loring's check,
in Father Benwell's pocket, representing such a liberal subscription
that my lord was reluctant to mention it to my lady--there was the
reading of the riddle, as plain as the sun at noonday! Would it be
desirable to enlighten Lady Loring as she had already enlightened
Stella? Mrs. Eyrecourt decided in the negative. As Roman Catholics,
and as old friends of Romayne, the Lorings naturally rejoiced in his
conversion. But as old friends also of Romayne's wife, they were bound
not to express their sentiments too openly. Feeling that any discussion
of the priest's motives would probably lead to the delicate subject of
the conversion, Mrs. Eyrecourt prudently determined to let the matter
drop. As a consequence of this decision, Stella was left without the
slightest warning of the catastrophe which was now close at hand.

Mrs. Eyrecourt joined her daughter at the window.

"Well, my dear, is it clearing up? Shall we take a drive before
luncheon?"

"If you like, mama."

She turned to her mother as she answered.

The light of the clearing sky, at once soft and penetrating, fell
full on her. Mrs. Eyrecourt, looking at her as usual, suddenly became
serious: she studied her daughter's face with an eager and attentive
scrutiny.

"Do you see any e