Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the original illustration. See 52055-h.htm or 52055-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/52055/52055-h/52055-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/52055/52055-h.zip) Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries. See https://archive.org/details/heartofpenelope00lownuoft The Wayfarer's Library THE HEART OF PENELOPE [Illustration: Decoration] MRS BELLOC LOWNDES [Illustration Decoration] J. M. Dent & Sons. Ltd. London [Illustration: They looked at one another for a moment. Chapter XVI] THE HEART OF PENELOPE CHAPTER I 'London my home is; though by hard fate sent Into a long and irksome banishment; Yet since call'd back, henceforward let me be, O native country, repossess'd by thee!' HERRICK. I Sir George Downing was back in London after an absence of twenty years from England. The circumstances which had led to his leaving his native country had been such that he could not refer to them, even in his own mind, and even after so long an interval, without an inward wincing more poignant than that which could have been brought about by the touching of any material wound. Born to the good fortune which usually attends the young Englishman of old lineage, a fair competence and a traditional career--in his case the pleasant one of diplomacy--Downing had himself brought all his chances to utter shipwreck. Even now, looking back with the dispassionate judgment automatically produced by the long lapse of time, and greater--ah, how much greater!--knowledge of the world, he decided that fate had used him hardly. What had really occurred was known to very few people, and these few had kept their own and his counsel to an unusual degree. The world, or rather that kindly and indulgent section of the world where young Downing had been regarded with liking, and even the affection, so easily bestowed on a good-looking and good-natured youngster, said to stand well with his chiefs, took a lenient view of a case of which it knew little. The fact that a lady was closely involved--further, that she was one of those fair strangers who in those days played a far greater part in diplomacy than would now be possible--lent the required touch of romance to the story. 'A Delilah brought to judgment' had been the comment of one grim old woman, mindful that she had been compelled to meet, if not to receive, the stormy petrel whose departure from London had been too hurried to admit of the leaving of P.P.C. cards on the large circle which had entertained, and, in a less material sense, been entertained by, her. As to her victim--only the very unkind ventured to use the word 'tool'--his obliteration had been almost as sudden, almost as complete.