And now, returning up the steep steps, going up slowly, as if she were bearing a burden, with Cecily silent by her side, respecting her mood, Mrs. Robinson blamed herself, with something like anguish, for not having been content to let Downing stay on in London. When there he had written to her twice, sometimes three times, a day, letters which seemed to bring him much nearer to herself than she felt him to be now, for they had been of ardent prevision of a time when they would be always together, side by side, heart to heart, in that far-away country which had become to her full of mysterious glamour and delight. She stayed her steps, and, turning, looked at the sea with a long wavering look, as she remembered, and again with a feeling of shame, though she was glad to know that this could not be in any sense shared by Downing, that one reason she had urged for his coming had been the nearness to Monk's Eype of David Winfrith's home. She had become aware that, by lingering with her so long in France while on his way to England, Downing had lost a chance of furthering his political and financial projects. The former Government had consisted of men who, even if not friendly to himself, sympathized with his aims; but now, among the members of the incoming Liberal Ministry, Persian Downing was looked at with suspicion, and regarded as one who desired to embroil his country with the great European Power who is only dangerous, according to Liberal tradition, when aggressively aroused from her political torpor. Winfrith alone among the new men was known to have other views. He had in a sense made his name by a book concerning Asian problems, and Mrs. Robinson, with feminine shrewdness, felt sure that he would not be able to resist the chance of meeting, in an informal way, the man who admittedly knew more of Persia and its rulers than any Englishman alive. No woman, save, perhaps, she who only lives to make a sport of men, cares to be present as third at the meeting of a man who loves her and of the man whom she herself loves. And so Penelope had arranged in her own mind that her cousin, Lord Wantley, should be the link between Winfrith and Downing. She had, however, meant to prepare the way, and it was with that object in view that she had asked Winfrith to ride with her the day before. But to her surprise, almost to her indignation and self-contempt, she had found that the name of Sir George Downing, from her to her old friend, had literally stuck in her throat, and she had been relieved when she found that Winfrith was to be for some days absent from the neighbourhood.