I was certainly thinking of what Stella had said of the Lorings on the memorable day when she visited me at the hotel.

“Romayne would probably have refused to receive us,” Lord Loring resumed, “but for the gratifying circumstance of my having been admitted to an interview with the Pope.  The Holy Father spoke of him with the most condescending kindness; and, hearing that I had not yet seen him, gave instructions, commanding Romayne to present himself.  Under these circumstances it was impossible for him to refuse to receive Lady Loring and myself on a later occasion.  I cannot tell you how distressed we were at the sad change for the worse in his personal appearance.  The Italian physician, whom he occasionally consulted, told me that there was a weakness in the action of his heart, produced, in the first instance, by excessive study and the excitement of preaching, and aggravated by the further drain on his strength due to insufficient nourishment.  He would eat and drink just enough to keep him alive, and no more; and he persistently refused to try the good influence of rest and change of scene.  My wife, at a later interview with him, when they were alone, induced him to throw aside the reserve which he had maintained with me, and discovered another cause for the deterioration in his health.  I don’t refer to the return of a nervous misery, from which he has suffered at intervals for years past; I speak of the effect produced on his mind by the announcement—­made no doubt with best intentions by Doctor Wybrow—­of the birth of his child.  This disclosure (he was entirely ignorant of his wife’s situation when he left her) appears to have affected him far more seriously than the English doctor supposed.  Lady Loring was so shocked at what he said to her on the subject, that she has only repeated it to me with a certain reserve.  ’If I could believe I did wrong,’ he said, ’in dedicating myself to the service of the Church, after the overthrow of my domestic happiness, I should also believe that the birth of this child was the retributive punishment of my sin, and the warning of my approaching death.  I dare not take this view.  And yet I have it not in me, after the solemn vows by which I am bound, to place any more consoling interpretation on an event which, as a priest, it disturbs and humiliates me even to think of.’  That one revelation of his tone of thought will tell you what is the mental state of this unhappy man.  He gave us little encouragement to continue our friendly intercourse with him.  It was only when we were thinking of our return to England that we heard of his appointment to the vacant place of first attache to the Embassy at Paris.  The Pope’s paternal anxiety on the subject of Romayne’s health had chosen this wise and generous method of obliging him to try a salutary change of air as well as a relaxation from his incessant employments in Rome.  On the occasion of his departure we met again.  He looked like a worn-out old man.  We could now only remember his double claim on us—­as a priest of our religion, and as a once dear friend—­and we arranged to travel with him.  The weather at the time was mild; our progress was made by easy stages.  We left him at Paris, apparently the better for his journey.”