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BLIND LOVE 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
NEW KOYELS AT ALL LIBRARIES. 
 
 THE RELL OF ST. PAUL'S. By Walter Besant. 
 
 3 vols. 
 
 FOR THE LOVE OF A LASS. By Austin Clare. 
 
 2 vols. 
 
 FETTERED FOR LIFE. By Frank Barrett. 
 
 3 vols. 
 
 PASSION'S SLAVE. By Richard Ashe King. 
 
 3 vols. 
 
 A YANKEE AT THE COURT OF KING 
 ARTHUR. By Mark Twain, i vol. 
 
 THE DEAD MAN'S SECRET ; or, the Valley of 
 Gold. By J. E. Muddock. i vol. 
 
 THE ROMANCE OF JENNY HARLOWE. By 
 W. Clakk Russell, i vol. 
 
 London : CHATTO & WINDUS, Piccadilly, W. 
 
Blind Love 
 
 BY 
 
 WILKIE COLLINS 
 
 iVITH A PREFACE BV WALTER BESANT AND 
 ILLUSTRATIONS BV A. FORESTIER 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES 
 VOL. I. 
 
 IT n b It 
 CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY 
 
The Illustrations to this Story are reproduced jroin 
 ' The Illustrated London News,^ by kind permission of 
 the P7-oprietors of that Journal 
 

 
 
 v>) 
 
 4 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 Jv J^N the month of August, and in the middle of 
 the seaside holiday, a message came to me 
 from Wilkie Collins, then, though ice hoped 
 
 ^ otherwise, on his death-bed. 
 
 It was conveyed to me by Mr. A. P. Watt. 
 f^ The icords of his letter were as follows : ' I 
 J have just come from Wilkie Collins, who is 
 J very ill. He told me that his novel, " Blind 
 V Love,'' is unfinished, and that it is quite im- 
 possible for him to tJiiidc of finishing it. Then 
 he said : " Ash Walter Besant if he ivill finish 
 it for me. Tell him that I would do as much 
 >^for him if he were in my r)lace and I in his. 
 ^ If he has the time I tlnnk he will do this for 
 ' f vie. We are both old hands at the work, and 
 
 t 
 
V ^ BLIND LOVE 
 
 vje understand it.'' He has placed in my 
 hands the notes of the remainder^ which I will 
 forward to you if you can accede to his request. 
 Under the circumstances of the case, it was 
 impossible to decline this request. I wrote to 
 say that time should he made, and the notes 
 were forwarded to me at Bohin Hood's Bay. I 
 began by reading carefully and twice over, so 
 as to get a grip of the story and the novelist's 
 intention, the part that had already appeared in 
 the ' Blustrated London News,' and the proofs so 
 far as the author had gone. 1 then turried to the 
 notes. I found that these were not merely notes, 
 such as I had expected — simple indications of 
 the plot and the develoqoment of events — hut an 
 actual detailed scenario, in which every incident, 
 however trivial, teas carefully laid down: there 
 were also fragments of dialogue inserted at 
 those places where dialogue was wanted to em- 
 phasise the situation and make it real. I was 
 much struck with the writer's perception of the 
 
PREFACE vii 
 
 vast importance of dialogue in making the 
 reader seize the scene. Description requires 
 attention : dialogue rivets attention. 
 
 It is not an easy task, nor is it pleasant, to 
 carry on another mans work : hut the possession 
 of this scenario lightened the work enormously. 
 I have been careful to adhere faithfully and 
 exactly to the plot, scene by scene, down to the 
 smallest detail as it icas laid down by the author 
 in this book. I have altered nothing. I have 
 jyreserved and incorporated every fragment of 
 dialogue. I have used the very language 
 wherever that was ivritten so carefidly as to 
 show that it was meant to be used. I think that 
 there is only one trivial detail ichere I had to 
 choose, because it was not clear from the notes 
 what the author had intended. The plot of the 
 novel, every scene, every situation, from begin- 
 ning to end, is the work of Wilkie Collins. The 
 actual writing is entirely his up to a certain 
 point: froon that point to the end it is his in 
 
viii BUND LOVE 
 
 fragments^ hut mainly mine. Where his writing 
 ends and mine begins^ I need not point out. 
 The practised critic will, no douht, at once lay 
 his finger on the spot. 
 
 I have therefore cariied out the author s 
 wishes to the best of my ahility. Would that 
 he icere liviiig still, if only to regret that he had 
 not been allowed to finish his last work with his 
 oimi hand ! 
 
 Walter Be s ant. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 THE FIRST VOLUME 
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 PAG-E 
 
 1 
 
 THE STORY 
 
 FIBST PEBIOD 
 
 tHAPTER 
 
 I. THE SOUR FRENCH WINE . . . . 
 
 II. THE MAN SHE REFUSED .... 
 III. THE REGISTERED PACKET . . . . 
 
 IV. THE GAME : MOUNTJOY LOSES . 
 
 V. THE GAME '. MOUNTJOY PLAYS A NEW CARD 
 VI. THE GAME : MOUNTJOY WINS . 
 VII. DOCTORING THE DOCTOR . . . . 
 
 VIII. HER father's MESSAGE .... 
 IX. MR. VIMPANY ON INTOXICATION . 
 X. THE MOCKERY OF DECEIT . 
 
 97 
 
 134 
 
 150 
 166 
 181 
 198 
 212 
 21:5 
 
X BLIND LOVE 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XI. MRS. VIMPANY'S FAREWELL 231 
 
 XIL LORD HARRY'S DEFENCE 247 
 
 SECOND PERIOD 
 
 XIII. IRIS AT HOME 260 
 
 XIV. THE lady's-maid 278 
 
 XV. MR. Henley's temper . . . . . . 288 
 
 XVI. THE DOCTOR IN FULL DRESS 294 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 TO VOL. I 
 
 ' DENNIS, I HAVE GOT SOMETHING FOR YOU TO DO. IT 
 MUST BE KEPT A SECRET, AND IT ALLOWS OF NO 
 
 DELAY ' Froritispiece 
 
 LIFTING THE PERFORATED PAPER, HE PLACED IT DELI- 
 CATELY OVER THE PAGE WHICH CONTAINED THE UN- 
 INTELLIGIBLE WRITING. . . . To face i^age 13 
 
 MRS. LEWSON'S FACE BRIGHTENED IN AN INSTANT : SHE 
 THREW THE DOOR WIDE OPEN WITH A GLAD CRY OF 
 RECOGNITION 61 
 
 SHE DREW OUT A SILVER TRAVELLING-FLASK. ONE GLANCE 
 AT THE NAME ENGRA\TED ON IT TOLD HIM THE TERRIBLE 
 TRUTH 95 
 
 IMPULSrV'ELY SHE DREW HIS HEAD DOWN . . . .111 
 
 NOW,' SHE SAID. TAKING A CHAIR BY THE BEDSIDE, ' YOU 
 
 SHALL KNOW WHAT A CLEVER W^IFE YOU HAVE GOT' .197. 
 
 THE WILD LORD READ IT : LOOKED (TO USE THE MES- 
 SENGER'S OWN words) LIKE A MAN CUT TO THE HEART, 
 AND SEEMED AT A LOSS WHAT TO SAY OR DO . . 265 
 
BLIND LOVE 
 
 THE PEOLOGUE 
 
 OON after sunrise, on 
 a cloudy morning 
 in the year 1881, 
 a special messen- 
 ger disturbed the 
 repose of Dennis 
 )A Howmore, at his 
 
 place of residence in the pleasant Irish town 
 of Ardoon. 
 
 Well acquainted apparently with the way 
 upstairs, the man thumped on a bedroom 
 door, and shouted Lis message through it 
 
 /, VOL. I. 
 
 c 
 B 
 
2 BLIND LOVE 
 
 ' The master wants you, and mind you don't 
 keep liim waLling.' 
 
 The person sendmg tliis peremptory mes- 
 sage was Sir Giles Mountjoy of Ardoon ; 
 knight and l}anker. Tlie person receiving 
 the message was Sir Giles's head clerk. As a 
 matter of course, Dennis Howmore dressed 
 himself at full speed, and hastened to his 
 emplvoyer's private house on the outskirts of 
 the town. 
 
 He found Sir Giles in an irritable and 
 anxious state of mind. A letter lay open on 
 the banker's bed, his night-cap was crumpled 
 crookedly on his head, he was in too great a 
 hurry to remember the claims of politeness, 
 when the clerk said ' Good-mornino\' 
 
 ' Dennis, I have got something for you to 
 do. It must be kept a secret, and it allows 
 of no delay.' 
 
 ' Is it anything connected with business, 
 sir?' 
 
THE PROLOGUE 3 
 
 The banker lost his temper. ' How can 
 you be such an infernal fool as to suppose 
 that anything connected with business could 
 happen at this time in the morning ? Do you 
 know the first milestone on the road to 
 Garvan ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, sir/ 
 
 ' Very w^ell. Go to the milestone, and 
 take care that nobody sees you when you get 
 there. Look at the back of the stone. If 
 you discover an Object which appears to 
 have been left in that situation, on tlie 
 ground, brino- it to me ; and don't forget that 
 the most impatient man in all Ireland is wait- 
 ing for you.' 
 
 Not a word of explanation followed these 
 extraordinary instructions. 
 
 The head clerk set forth on his errand, 
 with his mind dweUing on the national 
 tendencies to conspiracy and assassination. 
 His employer was not a popular person. Sir 
 
4 I^LIND LOVE 
 
 Giles liacl paid rent when lie owed it ; and, 
 worse still, was disposed to remember in a 
 friendly spirit what England had done for 
 Ireland, in the course of the last fifty years. 
 If anything appeared to justify distrust of the 
 mysterious Object of which he was in search, 
 Dennis resolved to be vigilantly on the look- 
 out for a gun- barrel, whenever he passed a 
 hedge on his return journey to the town. 
 
 Arrived at the milestone, he discovered 
 on the ground behind it one Object only — a 
 fragment of a broken tea-cup. 
 
 Naturally enough, Dennis hesitated. It 
 seemed to be impossible that tlie earnest and 
 careful instructions which he had received 
 could relate to such a trifle as this. At the 
 same time, he was acting under orders which 
 were as positive as tone, manner, and language 
 could make them. Passive obedience ap- 
 peared to be the one safe course to take — at 
 the risk of a reception, irritating to any man's 
 
THE PROLOGUE ^ 
 
 self-respect, when he returned to his employer 
 with a broken tea-cup in his hand. 
 
 The event entirely failed to justify his 
 misgivings. There could be no doubt that 
 Sir Giles attached serious importance to the 
 contemptible discovery made at the milestone. 
 After having examined and re-examined the 
 fragment, he announced his intention of send- 
 ing the clerk on a second errand — still with- 
 out troubling himself to explain what his 
 incomprehensible instructions meant. 
 
 ' If I am not mistaken,' he began, ' the 
 Reading Rooms, in our town, open as early 
 as nine. Very well. Go to the Rooms this 
 morning, on the stroke of the clock.' He 
 stopped, and consulted the letter which lay 
 open on his bed. ' Ask the librarian,' he 
 continued, ' for the third volume of Gibbon's 
 " Dechne and Fall of the Roman Empire." 
 Open the book at pages seventy-eight and 
 seventy-nine. If you find a piece of paper 
 
6 BLIND LOVE 
 
 between those two leaves, take possession of 
 it when nobody is looking at you, and bring 
 it to me. That's all, Dennis. And bear in 
 mind that I shall not recover the use of my 
 patience till I see you again.' 
 
 On ordinary occasions, the head clerk was 
 not a man accustomed to insist on what was 
 due to his dignity. At the same time he 
 was a sensible human beimj, conscious of the 
 consideration to which his responsible place 
 in the office entitled him. Sir Giles's irritat- 
 ing reserve, not even excused by a word of 
 apology, reached the limits of his endurance. 
 He respectfully protested. 
 
 ' I regret to find, sir,' he said, ' that I have 
 lost my place in my employer's estimation. 
 The man to whom you confide the superin- 
 tendence of your clerks and the transaction 
 of your business has, I venture to think, some 
 claim (under the present circumstances) to be 
 trusted.' 
 
THE PROLOGUE 7 
 
 The banker was now offended on Ids side. 
 
 ' I readily admit your claim,' he answered, 
 ' when you are sitting at your desk in my 
 office. But, even in these days of strikes, 
 co-operations, and bank holidays, an employer 
 has one privilege left — he has not ceased to be 
 a Man, and he has not forfeited a man's right 
 to keep his own secrets. I fail to see any- 
 thing in my conduct which has given you 
 just reason to complain.' 
 
 Dennis, rebuked, made his bow in silence, 
 and withdrew. 
 
 Did these acts of humility mean that he 
 submitted ? They meant exactly the con- 
 trary. He had made up his mind that Sir 
 Giles Mountjoy's motives should, sooner or 
 later, cease to be mysteries to Sir Giles 
 Mountjoy's clerk. 
 
BLIND LOVE 
 
 II 
 
 Carefully following his instruc- 
 tions, he consulted the third 
 volume of Gibbon's great History, 
 and found, between the seventj^-eighth and 
 seventy-ninth pages, something remarkable 
 this time. 
 
 It was a sheet of delicately-made paper, 
 pierced with a number of little holes, infi- 
 nitely varied in size, and cut with the 
 smoothest precision. Having secured this 
 curious object, while the librarian's back was 
 turned, Dennis Howmore reflected. 
 
 A page of paper, unintelligibly perforated 
 for some purpose unknown, was in itself a 
 suspicious thing. And what did suspicion 
 suggest to tlie inquiring mind in South- 
 
THE PROLOGUE 9 
 
 Western Ireland, before the suppression of 
 tlie Land League ? Unquestionably — Police ! 
 On the way back to his employer, the 
 banker's clerk paid a visit to an old friend — a 
 journalist by profession ; and a man of varied 
 learning and experience as well. Livited to 
 inspect the remarkable morsel of paper, and 
 to discover tlie object with which the perfora- 
 tions had been made, the authority consulted 
 proved to be worthy of the trust reposed in 
 him. Dennis left the newspaper-office an 
 enlightened man — with information at the 
 disposal of Sir Giles, and with a sense of relief 
 which expressed itself irreverently in these 
 words : ' Xow I have got him ! ' 
 
 The bewildered banker looked backwards 
 and forwards from the paper to the clerk, and 
 from the clerk to the paper. ' I don't under- 
 stand it,' he said. ' Do you ? ' 
 
 Still preserving the appearance of humility, 
 Dennis asked leave to venture on a iruess. 
 
lo BLIND LOVE 
 
 The perforated paper looked, as he thought, 
 like a Puzzle. ' If we wait for a day or two,' 
 he suggested, ' the Key to it may possibly 
 reach us.' 
 
 On the next day, nothing happened. On 
 the day after, a second letter made another 
 audacious demand on the fast-failing patience 
 of Sir Giles Mountjoy. 
 
 Even the envelope proved to be a puzzle 
 on this occasion ; the postmark was 'Ardoon.' 
 In other words, the writer had used the post- 
 man as a messenger, while he or his accom- 
 plice was actually in the town posting the letter 
 within half a minute's walk of the bank ! The 
 contents presented an im])enetrable mystery, 
 the writing looked worthy of a madman. 
 Sentences appeared in the wildest state of con- 
 fusion, and words were so mutilated as to be 
 unintelhgible. This time, the force of circum- 
 stances was more tlian Sir Giles could resist. 
 He took the clerk into his confidence at last. 
 
THE PROLOGUE il 
 
 ' Let US begin at the beginning,' he said. 
 'There is the letter you saw on my bed, when 
 I first sent for you. I found it waiting on my 
 table when I woke ; and I don't know who 
 put it there. Eead it.' 
 
 Dennis read as follows : 
 
 ' Sir Giles Mountjoy, — I have a disclosure 
 to make, in which one of the members of your 
 family is seriously interested. Before I can 
 venture to explain myself, I must be assured 
 that I can trust to your good faith. As a 
 test of this, I require you to fulfil the two con- 
 ditions that follow — and to do it without the 
 slightest loss of time. I dare not trust you 
 yet with my address, or my signature. Any act 
 of carelessness, on my part, might end fatally 
 for the true friend who writes these lines. If 
 you neglect this warning, you will regret it to 
 the end of your life.' 
 
 To the conditions on which the letter in- 
 sisted there is no need to allude. They had 
 
12 BLIND LOVE 
 
 been complied with when the discoveries were 
 made at the back of the milestone, and be- 
 tween the pages of Gibbon's History. Sir 
 Giles had already arrived at the conclu- 
 sion that a conspiracy was in progress to 
 assassinate him, and perhaps to rob the 
 bank. The wiser head clerk pointed to the 
 perforated paper and the incomprehensible 
 writing received that morning. ' If we can 
 find out what these mean,' he said, '^o\\ 
 may be better able, sir, to form a correct 
 opinion.' 
 
 'And who is to do that.^' the banker 
 asked. 
 
 ' I can but try, sir,' was the modest reply, 
 'if you see no objection to my making the 
 attempt.' 
 
 Sir Giles approved of the proposed experi- 
 ment, silently and satirically, by a bend of his 
 head. 
 
 Too discreet a man to make a suspiciously 
 
Liftms the pC7-forated paper, he placed it delicately over the page luhich contained tJic 
 unintelligible ivritiiig. 
 
THE PROLOGUE 13 
 
 ready use of the information which he liad 
 privately obtained, Dennis took care that his 
 first attempt should not be successful. After 
 modestly asking permission to try again, he 
 ventured on the second occasion to arrive at a 
 happy discovery. Lifting the perforated paper, 
 he placed it delicately over the page which con- 
 tained the unintelligible writing. Words and 
 sentences now appeared (through the holes 
 in the paper) in their right spelling and 
 arrangement, and addressed Sir Giles in these 
 terms : 
 
 *I beg to thank you, sir, for complying 
 with my conditions. You have satisfied me 
 of your good faith. At the same time, it is 
 possible that you may liesitate to trust a man 
 who is not yet able to admit you to his 
 confidence. The perilous position in which I 
 stand obliges me to ask for two or three days 
 more of delay, before I can safely make an 
 appointment with you. Pray be patient — and 
 
14 BLIND LOVE 
 
 on no account apply for advice or protection 
 to the police.' 
 
 ' Those last words,' Sir Giles declared, ' are 
 conclusive ! The sooner I am under the care 
 of the law the better. Take my card to tlie 
 police-office.' 
 
 ' May I say a word first, sir ? ' 
 
 ' Do you mean that you don't agree with 
 me? ' 
 
 ' I mean that.' 
 
 'You were always an obstinate man, 
 Dennis ; and it grows on you as you get 
 older. Never mind ! Let's have it out. 
 Who do you say is the person pointed at in 
 these rascally letters ? ' 
 
 The head clerk took up the first letter of 
 the two, and pointed to the opening sentence : 
 'Sir Giles Mountjoy, — I have a disclosure to 
 make in which one of the members of your 
 family is seriously interested.' Dennis em- 
 phatically repeated the words : * one of the 
 
THE PROLOGUE 15 
 
 members of your family.' Ilis employer re- 
 garded liim with a broad stare of astonisli- 
 ment. 
 
 ' One of the members of my family ? ' Sir 
 Giles repeated, on liis side. 'Why, man 
 alive, what are you thinking of? I'm an old 
 bachelor, and I haven't got a family.' 
 
 ' There is your brother, sir.' 
 
 ' My brother is in France — out of the way 
 of the wretches who are threatening me. I 
 wish I was with him ! ' 
 
 'There are your brother's two sons, Sir 
 Giles.' 
 
 ' Well ? And what is there to be afraid of? 
 My nephew, Hugh, is in London — and, mind ! 
 not on a pohtical errand. I hope, before 
 long, to hear that he is going to be married 
 — if the strangest and nicest girl in England 
 will have him. What's wrong now ? ' 
 
 Dennis explained. ' I only wished to say, 
 sir, that I was thinking of your other nephew.' 
 
J 6 IBLIND LOVE 
 
 Sir Giles laughed. ' Arthur in danger ! ' 
 he exclaimed. 'As harmless a young man as 
 ever lived. The worst one can say of him is 
 that he is throwing away his money — farming 
 in Kerry.' 
 
 " Excuse me, Sir Giles ; there's not much 
 chance of his throwing away liis money, 
 where he is now. Nobody will venture to 
 take his money. I met with one of ]\Ir. 
 Arthur's neighbours at the market yesterday. 
 Your nephew is boycotted.' 
 
 ' So much the better,' the obstinate 
 banker declared. 'He will be cured of his 
 craze for farming ; and he will come back to 
 the place I am keeping for him in the office.' 
 
 ' God grant it ! ' the clerk said fervently. 
 
 For the moment, Sir Giles was staggered. 
 ' Have you heard something that you haven't 
 told me yet ? ' lie asked. 
 
 'No, sir. I am only bearing in mind 
 something v/hich~with all respect— I think 
 
THE PROLOGUE . ly 
 
 you have forgotten. Tlie last tenant on that 
 bit of land in Kerry refused to pay his rent. 
 Mr. Arthur has taken what they call an 
 evicted farm. It's my firm belief,' said tlie 
 head clerk, rising and speaking earnestly, 
 ' tliat the person who lias addressed those 
 letters to you knows Mr. Arthur, and knows 
 he is in danger — and is trying to save your 
 nephew (by means of your influence), at the 
 risk of his own life.' 
 
 Sir Giles shook his head. ' I call that a 
 far-fetched interpretation, Dennis. If what 
 you say is true, why didn't the writer of those 
 anonymous letters address himself to Arthur, 
 instead of to me ? ' 
 
 'I gave it as my opinion just now, sir, 
 that the writer of the letter knew Mr. 
 Arthur.' 
 
 ' So you did. And what of that ? ' 
 Dennis stood to his guns. 
 'Anybody who is acquainted with Mr. 
 VOL. I. c 
 
i8 BLIND LOVE 
 
 Arthur,' lie persisted, ' knows that (witli all 
 sorts of good qualities) the young gentleman 
 is headstrong and rash. If a friend told him 
 he was in danger on the farm, that would be 
 enough of itself to make him stop where he 
 is, and brave it out. Whereas you, sir, are 
 known to be cautious and careful, and far- 
 seeing and discreet.' He might have added : 
 And cowardly and obstinate, and narrow- 
 minded and inflated by stupid self-esteem. 
 But respect fcr his employer had blindfolded 
 the clerk's observation for many a long year 
 past. If one man may be born with the heart 
 of a lion, another man may be born with the 
 mind of a mule. Dennis's master w^as one of 
 the other men. 
 
 ' Very well put,' Sir Giles answered indul- 
 gently. ' Time will show, if such an entirely 
 unimportant person as my nephew Arthur 
 is likely to be assassinated. That allusion to 
 one of the members of my family is a mere 
 
THE PROLOGUE 19 
 
 equivocation, clesignecl to throw me oft' my 
 guard. Eank, money, social influence, un- 
 swerving principles, mark me out as a public 
 character. Go to the police-office, and let the 
 best man wlio happens to be oil duty come 
 here directly.' 
 
 Good Dennis Howmore approached the 
 door very unwillingly. It was opened, from 
 the outer side, before he had reached that 
 end of the room. One of the bank porters 
 announced a visitor. 
 
 ' Miss Henley wishes to know, sir, if you 
 can see her.' 
 
 Sir Giles looked agreeably surprised. He 
 rose with alacrity to receive the lady. 
 
 C '1 
 
20 BLIND LOVE 
 
 III 
 
 ;HEN Iris Henley dies there will, in 
 all probability, be friends left who 
 Avill remember her and talk of her 
 — and there may be strangers present at the 
 time (women for the most part), whose curi- 
 osity will put questions relating to her per- 
 sonal appearance. No replies will reward 
 them with trustworthy information. Miss 
 Henley's chief claim to admiration lay in a 
 remarkable mobility of expression, which re- 
 flected every change of feeling pecuhar to the 
 nature of a sweet and sensitive woman. For 
 this reason, probably, no descriptions of her 
 will agree with each other. No existing hke- 
 nesses will represent her. The one portrait 
 that was painted of Iris is only recognisable 
 
THE PROLOGUE 21 
 
 by partial friends of the artist. In and out of 
 London, photographic likenesses were taken 
 of lier. The}^ have the honour of resembling 
 the portraits of Shakespeare in this respect — 
 compared with one another, it is not possible 
 to discover that they present the same person. 
 As for the evidence offered by the loving 
 memory of her friends, it is sure to be contra- 
 dictory in the last degree. She had a charm- 
 ing face, a commonplace face, an intelligent 
 face — a poor complexion, a delicate com- 
 plexion, no complexion at all — eyes that were 
 expressive of a hot temper, of a bright intel- 
 lect, of a firm character, of an affectionate 
 disposition, of a truthful nature, of hysterical 
 sensibility, of inveterate obstinacy — a figure 
 too short ; no, just the right height ; no, 
 neither one thing nor the other ; elegant, if 
 you like — dress shabby : oh, surely not ; dress 
 quiet and simple ; no, something more than 
 that ; ostentatiously quiet, theatrically simple, 
 
22 BLIND LOVE 
 
 worn with the object of lookmg imhke other 
 people. In one last word, was this mass of 
 contradictions generally popular, in the time 
 when it was a living creature ? Yes — among 
 the men. No — not invariably. The man of 
 all others who ought to have been fondest 
 of her was the man who behaved cruelly to 
 Iris — her own father. And, when the poor 
 creature married (if she did marry), how 
 many of you attended the wedding ? Xot 
 one of us ! And when she died, how many of 
 you were sorry for her ? All of us ! What ? 
 no difference of opinion in that one parti- 
 cular? On the contrary, perfect concord, 
 thank God. 
 
 Let the years roll back, and let Iris speak 
 for herself, at the memorable time when she 
 was in the prime of her life, and when a 
 stormy career was before lier. 
 
THE PROLOGUE 23 
 
 IV 
 
 EING Miss Henley's godfather, Sir 
 Giles was a privileged person. 
 He laid his hairy hands on her 
 shoulders, and kissed her on either cheek. 
 After that prefatory act of endearment, he 
 made his inquiries. What extraordinary 
 combination of events had led Iris to leave 
 London, and had brought her to visit him in 
 his banking-house at Ardoon ? 
 
 ' I wanted to get away from home,' she 
 answered ; ' and having nobody to go to but 
 my godfather, I thought I should like to see 
 You.' 
 
 ' Alone ! ' cried Sir Giles. 
 
 'No — with my maid to keep me com- 
 pany.' 
 
54 BLIND LOVE 
 
 ' Only your maid, Iris ? Surely you have 
 acquaintances among young ladies like your- 
 self?' 
 
 'Acquaintances — yes. No friends.' 
 
 *Does your father approve of what you 
 have done ? ' 
 
 ' Will you grant me a favour, godpapa ? ' 
 
 ' Yes — if I can.' 
 
 ' Don't insist on my answering your last 
 question.' 
 
 The faint colour that had risen in her 
 face, when she entered the room, left it. At 
 the same time, the expression of her mouth 
 altered. The Hps closed firmly ; revealing 
 that strongest of all resolutions which is 
 founded on a keen sense of wrong. Slie 
 looked older than her age : what she might 
 be ten years hence, she was now. Sir Giles 
 understood her. He got up, and took a turn 
 in the room. An old habit, of which he had 
 cured himself with infinite difficulty when he 
 
THE PROLOGUE 2$ 
 
 was made a Knight, showed itself again. He 
 put his hands in his pockets. 
 
 ' You and your father have had another 
 quarrel,' he said, stopping opposite Iris. 
 
 *I don't deny it,' she replied. 
 
 ' Who is to blame ? ' 
 
 She smiled bitterly. ' The woman is 
 always to blame.' 
 
 ' Did your father tell you that ? ' 
 
 'My father reminded me that I was 
 twenty-one years old, last birthday — and told 
 me that I could do as I liked. I understood 
 him, and I left the house.' 
 
 ' You will go back again, I suppose ? ' 
 
 ' I don't know.' 
 
 Sir Giles began pacing the room once 
 more. His rugged face, telling its story of 
 disaster and struggle in early life, showed 
 signs of disappointment and distress. 
 
 ' Hugh promised to write to me,' he said, 
 ' and he has not written. I know what that 
 
26 BLIND LOVE 
 
 means ; I know wliat you have done to offend 
 your father. My nephew has asked you to 
 marry hhn for the second thne. And for the 
 second time you have refused.' 
 
 Her face softened ; its better and younger 
 aspect revived. ' Yes,' she said, sadly and 
 submissively ; ' I have refused him again.' 
 
 Sir Giles lost his temper. ' What the devil 
 is your objection to Hugh .^ ' he burst out. 
 
 'My father said the same thing to me,' she 
 replied, ' almost in the same words. I made 
 him angry when I tried to give my reason. 
 I don't want to make you angry, too.' 
 
 He took no notice of this. ' Isn't Hugh a 
 good fellow ? ' he went on. ' Isn't he affec- 
 tionate ? and kindhearted ? and honourable ? 
 — aye, and a handsome man too, if you come 
 to that.' 
 
 ' Hugh is all that you say. I like him ; I 
 admire him ; I owe to his kindness some of 
 the liappiest days of my sad life, and I am 
 
THE PROLOGUE 27 
 
 grateful — oli, with all my heart, I am grateful 
 to Hugh ! ' 
 
 If that's true, Iris- 
 
 ' Every word of it is true.' 
 
 ' I say, if that's true — there's no excuse for 
 3'ou. I hate perversity in a young woman ! 
 Why don't you marry him ? ' 
 
 ' Try to feel for me,' she said gently ; ' I 
 can't love him.' 
 
 Her tone said more to the banker than 
 her words liad expressed. The secret sorrow 
 of her life, which was known to her father, 
 was known also to Sir Giles. 
 
 ' Xow we have come to it at last ! ' he said. 
 ' You can't love my nephew Hugh. And you 
 won't tell me the reason wh}^ because your 
 sweet temper shrinks from making me angry. 
 Shall I mention the reason for you, my 
 dear ? I can do it in two words — Lord 
 Harry.' 
 
 She made no reply ; she showed no sign of 
 
aS BLIND LOVE 
 
 feeling what he had just said. Her head sank 
 a little ; her hands clasped themselves on her 
 lap ; the obstinate resignation which can sub- 
 mit to anything hardened her face, stiffened 
 her figure — and that was all. 
 
 The banker was determined not to spare 
 her. 
 
 * It's easy to see,' he resumed, ' that you 
 have not got over your infatuation for that 
 vagabond yet. Go where he may, into tlie 
 vilest places and among the lowest people, 
 he carries your heart along with him. I 
 wonder you are not ashamed of such an 
 attachment as that.' 
 
 He had stung her at last. She roused 
 herself, and answered him. 
 
 ' Harry has led a wild life,' she said ; ' he 
 has committed serious faults, and he may live 
 to do worse than he lias done yet. To what 
 degradation, bad company, and a bad bring- 
 ing up may yet lead him, I leave his enemies 
 
THE PROLOGUE 29 
 
 to foresee. But I tell you this, he has redeem- 
 ing qualities which you, and people like you, 
 are not good Christians enough to discover. 
 He has friends who can still appreciate him — 
 your nephew, Arthur Mountjoy, is one of them. 
 Oh, I know it by Arthur's letters to me ! 
 Blame Lord Harry as you may, I tell you he 
 has the capacity for repentance in him, and one 
 day — when it is too late, I dare say — he will 
 show it. I can never be his wife. We are 
 parted, never in all likelihood to meet again. 
 Well ! he is the only man whom I have ever 
 loved ; and he is the only man whom I ever 
 shall love. If 3^ou think this state of mind 
 proves that I am as bad as he is, I won't contra- 
 dict you. Do we any of us know how bad we 
 are ? — Have you heard of Harry lately ? ' 
 
 The sudden transition, from an earnest 
 and devoted defence of the man, to an easy 
 and famihar inquiry about him, startled Sir 
 Giles. 
 
30 BLIND LOVE 
 
 For the moment lie had nothing to say ; Iris 
 had made him think. She had shown a capa- 
 city for mastering her strongest feehngs, at the 
 moment when they threatened to overcome her, 
 which is very rarely found in a young woman. 
 How to manage her was a problem for patient 
 resolution to solve. The banker's obstinacy, 
 rather than his conviction, had encouraged 
 him to hold to the hope of Hugh's marriage, 
 even after his nephew had been refused for 
 the second time. His headstrong goddaughter 
 had come to visit him of her own accord. 
 She had not forgotten the days of her child- 
 hood, when he had some influence over her — 
 when she had found him kinder to her than 
 her father had ever been. Sir Giles saw that 
 he had taken the wrong tone with Iris. His 
 anger had not alarmed her ; liis opinion had 
 not influenced her. In Hugh's interests he 
 determined to try what consideration and 
 
THE PROLOGUE 
 
 31 
 
 indulgence would do towards cultivating the 
 growtli of lier regard for him. Finding that 
 she had left her maid and her lu2f<]^a(?e at tlie 
 
 DO c 
 
 hotel, he hospitably insisted on their removal 
 to his own house. 
 
 ' While you are in Ardoon, Iris, you are 
 my guest,' he said. 
 
 She pleased him by readily accepting the 
 invitation — and then annoyed him by asking 
 again if he had heard anything of Lord 
 Harry. 
 
 He answered shortly and sliarply : ' I have 
 heard nothing. What is your last news of 
 him ? ' 
 
 ' News,' she said, ' which I sincerely hope 
 is not true. An Irish paper has been sent to 
 me, which reports that he has joined the 
 secret society — nothing better than a society 
 of assassins, I am afraid — which is known by 
 the name of the Invincibles.' 
 
32 BLIND LOVE 
 
 As she mentioned that formidable brother- 
 liood, Dennis Howmore returned from the 
 poHce-office. He announced that a Sergeant 
 was then waiting to receive instructions from 
 Sir Giles. 
 
THE PROLOGUE 33 
 
 fc 
 
 V 
 
 EIS rose to go. Her godfather 
 courteously stopped her. 
 
 ' Wait here,' he said, ' until I 
 have spoken to the Sergeant, and I will escort 
 you to my house. My clerk will do what is 
 necessary at the hotel. You don't look quite 
 satisfied. Is the arrangement that I have 
 proposed not agreeable to j^ou .^ ' 
 
 Iris assured him that she gratefully ac- 
 ceded to the arrangement. At the same time, 
 she confessed to having been a little startled 
 on discovering that he was in consultation with 
 the police. 'I remember that we are in 
 Ireland,' she explained, ' and I am foolish 
 enough to fear that you may be in some 
 danger. May I hope that it is only a trifle ? ' 
 VOL. I. p 
 
34 BLIND LOVE 
 
 Only a trifle ! Among otlier deficient 
 sensibilities in the strange nature of Iris, Sir 
 Giles had observed an imperfect appreciation 
 of the dignity of his social position. Here was 
 a new proof of it ! The temptation to inspire 
 sentiments of alarm— not unmingled with 
 admiration — in the mind of his insensible 
 god-danghter, by exhibiting himself as a 
 public character threatened by a conspi- 
 racy, was more than the banker's vanity 
 could resist. Before he left the room, he in- 
 structed Dennis to tell Miss Henley what had 
 happened, and to let her judge for herself 
 whether he had been needlessly alarmed 
 by what she was pleased to call ' a mere 
 trifle.' 
 
 Dennis Howmore must have been more 
 than mortal, if he could have related his nar- 
 rative of events without being influenced by 
 his own point of view. On the first occasion 
 when he mentioned Arthur Mountjoy's name 
 
THE PROLOGUE 35 
 
 Iris showed a sudden interest in liis strange 
 story which took him by surprise. 
 
 ' You know Mr. Artliur ? ' he said. 
 
 ' Know him ! ' Iris repeated. ' He was 
 my playfellow when we were both children. 
 He is as dear to me as if he was my brother. 
 Tell me at once — is he really in danger ? ' 
 
 Dennis honestly repeated what he had 
 already said, on that subject, to his master. 
 ]\Iiss Henley, entirely agreeing with him, ^v^as 
 eager to warn Arthur of his position. There 
 was no telegraphic communication with the vil- 
 lage which was near his farm. She could only 
 write to him, and she did write to him, by that 
 day's post — having reasons of her own for 
 anxiety, which forbade her to show her letter 
 to Dennis. Well aware of the devoted friend- 
 ship which united Lord Harry and Arthur 
 Mountjoy — and bearing in mind tlie news- 
 paper report of the Irish lord's rash association 
 with the Invincibles — her fears now identified 
 
 D 2 
 
36 BLIND LOVE 
 
 the noble vagabond as tlie writer of the anony- 
 mous letters, which had so seriously excited 
 her godfather's doubts of his own safety. 
 
 When Sir Giles returned and took her with 
 him to liis house, he spoke of his consultation 
 with the Sergeant in terms which increased her 
 dread of what might happen in the future. 
 She was a dull and silent guest, during the 
 interval that elapsed before it would be pos- 
 sible to receive Arthur's reply. The day 
 arrived — and the post brought no relief to her 
 anxieties. The next day passed without a 
 letter. On the morning of the fourth day. 
 Sir Giles rose later than usual. His correspond- 
 ence was sent to him from the office, at break- 
 fast-time. After opening one of the letters, he 
 despatched a messenger in hot haste to the 
 police. 
 
 ' Look at that,' he said, handing tlie letter 
 to Iris. ' Does the assassin take me for a 
 fool?' 
 
THE PROLOGUE 37 
 
 She read the hues that follow : 
 
 ' Unforeseen events force me, Sir Giles, 
 to run a serious risk. I must speak to you, 
 and it must not be by daylight. My one hope 
 of safety is in darkness. Meet me at the first 
 milestone, on the road to Garvan, when the 
 moon sets at ten o'clock to-night. No need 
 to mention your name. The password is : 
 Fidelity' 
 
 ' Do you mean to go .^ ' Iris asked. 
 
 ' Do I mean to ])e murdered ! ' Sir Giles 
 broke out. * My dear child, do pray try to 
 think before you speak. The Sergeant will 
 represent me, of course.' 
 
 ' And take the man prisoner ? ' Iris added. 
 
 ' Certainly ! ' 
 
 With that startling reply, the banker hur- 
 ried away to receive tlie police in another 
 room. Iris dropped into the nearest chair. 
 The turn that the affair had now taken filled 
 her with unutterable dismay. 
 
38 BLIND LOVE 
 
 Sir Giles came back, after no very long 
 absence, composed and smiling. Tlie course 
 of proceeding had been settled to his complete 
 satisfaction. 
 
 Dressed in private clothes, tlie Sergeant 
 was to go to the milestone at the appointed 
 time, representing the banker in the darkness, 
 and giving the password. He was to be 
 followed by two of his men who would wait 
 in concealment, witliin hearing of liis whistle, 
 if their services were required. ' I want to 
 see the ruffian wlien he is safely handcufFed,' 
 Sir Giles explained ; ' and I have arranged to 
 wait for the police, to-night, at my office.' 
 
 There was but one desperate way that Iris 
 could now discern of saving the man who had 
 confided in her godfather's honour, and whose 
 trust had already been betrayed. Never had 
 she loved the outlawed Irish lord — the man 
 whom she was forbidden, and rightly for- 
 bidden, to marry — as she loved him at that 
 
THE PROLOGUE 39 
 
 moment. Let the risk be what it miglit, this 
 resolute woman had determined that the 
 Sergeant should not be the only person who 
 arrived at the milestone, and gave the pass- 
 word. There was one devoted friend to Lord 
 Harry, whom she could always trust — and 
 that friend was herself. 
 
 Sir Giles withdrew, to look after his busi- 
 ness at the bank. She waited until the clock 
 liad struck the servants' dinner hour, and 
 then ascended tlie stairs to her godfather's 
 dressing-room. Opening his wardrobe, she 
 discovered in one part of it a large Spanish 
 cloak, and, in another part, a liigh-crowned 
 felt hat which lie wore on his country ex- 
 cursions. Li the dark, here was disguise 
 enough for her purpose. 
 
 As she left the dressing-room, a measure 
 of precaution occurred to her, wdiicli she put 
 in action at once. Telling her maid that she 
 had some purchases to make in the town, she 
 
40 J3LIND LOVE 
 
 went out, and asked her way to Garvan of the 
 first respectable stranger whom she met m the 
 street. Her object was to walk as far as the 
 first milestone, in daylight, so as to be sure of 
 finding it again by night. She had made her- 
 self familiar with the different objects on the 
 road, when she returned to tlie banker's 
 house. 
 
 As the time for the arrest drew nearer, Sir 
 Giles became too restless to wait patiently at 
 home. He went away to the police-office, 
 eager to hear if any new counter-conspiracy 
 had occurred to the authorities. 
 
 It was dark soon after eight o'clock, at 
 that time of the year. At nine the servants 
 assembled at the supper-table. They were 
 all downstairs together, talking, and waiting 
 for their meal. 
 
 Feeling the necessity of arriving at the 
 place of meeting in time to keep out of the 
 Serjeant's wav, Iris assumed her diss^uise as 
 
THE PROLOGUE 41 
 
 the clock struck nine. She left the house 
 without a living creature to notice her, in- 
 doors or out. Clouds were gathering over 
 tlie sky. The waning moon was only to be 
 seen at intervals, as she set forth on her Avay 
 to the milestone. 
 
42 
 
 BLIND LOVE 
 
 YI 
 
 HE wind rose a 
 little, and the 
 rifts in the clouds 
 began to grow 
 broader as Iris 
 gained the high 
 road. 
 
 For awhile 
 the ghnnner 
 of the misty 
 moonliglit lit 
 the way before her. As well as she could 
 guess, she had passed over more than lialf 
 of the distance between the town and the 
 milestone before the sky darkened ao-ain. Ob- 
 
THE PROLOGUE 43 
 
 jects by the wayside grew sliaclowy and 
 dim. A few drops of rain began to fall. 
 The milestone, as she knew — thanks to the 
 discovery of it made by daylight — was on 
 the right-hand side of the road. But the dull 
 grey colour of tlie stone was not easy to see 
 in the dark. 
 
 A doubt troubled her whether she might 
 not have passed the milestone. She stopped 
 and looked at the sky. 
 
 The threatening of rain had passed away ; 
 signs showed themselves which seemed to 
 promise another break in the clouds. She 
 waited. Low and faint, the sinkino- moonliizlit 
 looked its last at the dull earth. In front of 
 her there was nothing to be seen but the 
 road. She looked back — and discovered the 
 milestone. 
 
 A rough stone wall protected the land on 
 either side of the road. Nearly behind the 
 milestone there was a gap in this fence, par- 
 
44 BLIND LOVE 
 
 tially closed by a hurdle. A half-ruined cul- 
 vert, arching a ditch that had run dry, formed 
 a bridge leading from the road to the field. 
 Had the field been already chosen as a place 
 of concealment by the police ? Nothing was 
 to be seen but a footpath, and the dusky line 
 of a plantation beyond it. As she made these 
 discoveries, the rain began to fall again ; the 
 clouds gathered once more ; the moonlight 
 vanished. 
 
 At the same moment an obstacle presented 
 itself to her mind, which Iris had thus far 
 failed to foresee. 
 
 Lord Harry might approach the milestone 
 by three different ways : tliat is to say — by 
 the road from tlie town, or by the road from 
 the open country, or by way of the field and 
 the culvert. How could she so place herself 
 as to be sure of warnins^ him, before he fell 
 into the liands of tlie police ? To watch the 
 three means of approach in the obscurity of 
 
THE PROLOGUE 45 
 
 the night, and at one and the same time, was 
 impossible. 
 
 A man in this position, guided by reason, 
 would in all probability have wasted precious 
 time in trying to arrive at the rig] it decision. 
 A woman, aided b}' love, conquered tlie diffi- 
 culty that confronted her in a moment. 
 
 Iris decided on returnino- to the milestone, 
 and on waiting there to be discovered and 
 taken prisoner by the police. Suj)posing 
 Lord Harry to be punctual to his appoint- 
 ment, he would hear voices and movements, 
 as a necessary consequence of the arrest, in 
 time to make his escape. Supposing him on 
 the other hand to be late, the police would be 
 on the way back to the town with their 
 prisoner : he would find no one at the mile- 
 stone, and would leave it again in safety. 
 
 She was on the point of turning, to get 
 back to the road, when something on the 
 dark surface of the field, which looked hke a 
 
46 BLIND LOVE 
 
 darker shadow, became dimly visible. In an- 
 other moment, it seemed to be a shadow that 
 moved. She ran towards it. It looked like 
 a man as she drew nearer. The man stopped. 
 
 ' The password,' he said, in tones cautiously 
 lowered. 
 
 ' Fidelity,' she answered in a whisper. 
 
 It was too dark for a recognition of his 
 features ; but Iris knew him by his tall 
 stature — knew him by the accent in which he 
 had asked for the password. Erroneously 
 judging of her, on his side, as a man, he drew 
 back again. Sir Giles Mountjoy was above 
 the middle height ; the stranger, in a cloak, 
 who had whispered to him, was below it. 
 ' You are not the person I expected to meet,' 
 he said. ^ Who are you ? ' 
 
 Her faithful heart was longing to tell him 
 the truth. The temptation to reveal herself 
 and to make the sweet confession of her 
 happiness at having saved him, would have 
 
THE PROLOGUE 47 
 
 overpowered lier discretion, but for a sound 
 that was audible on the road behind them. 
 In the deep silence of tlie time and place, mis- 
 take was impossible. It was the sound of 
 footsteps. 
 
 There was just time to whisper to him': 
 ' Sir Giles has betrayed you. Save your- 
 self.' 
 
 ' Thank you, whoever you are ! ' 
 
 With that reply, he suddenly and swiftly 
 disappeared. Iris remembered the culvert, 
 and turned towards it. There was a hidinix- 
 place under the arch, if she could only get 
 down into the dry ditch in time. Slie was feel- 
 ing her Avay to the slope of it with her feet, 
 when a heavy hand seized her by the 
 arm ; and a resolute voice said, ' You are 
 my prisoner.' 
 
 She was led back into the road. The 
 man who had got her blew a whistle. Two 
 other men joined him. 
 
48 BLIND LOVE 
 
 ' Show a ligiit,' lie said ; ' and let's see 
 who the fellow is.' 
 
 The shade was slipped aside from a 
 lantern : the light fell full on the prisoner's 
 face. Amazement petrified the two attendant 
 policemen. The pious Catholic Sergeant burst 
 into speech : ' Holy Mary ! it's a woman ! ' 
 
 Did the secret societies of Ireland enrol 
 women? Was this a modern Judith, express- 
 infT herself by anonymous letters, and bent on 
 assassinating a financial Holofernes who kept 
 a bank ? What account had she to give of 
 herself? How came she to be alone in 
 a desolate field on a rainy night ? Instead 
 of answering these questions, the inscrutable 
 stranger preferred a bold and brief request. 
 « Take me to Sir Giles,' was all she said to the 
 police. 
 
 The Sergeant had the handcuffs ready. 
 After looking at the prisoner's delicate wrists 
 by the lantern -light, he put his fetters b^ck 
 
THE PROLOGUE 49 
 
 in his pocket. ' A lady — and no doubt about 
 it,' he said to one of his assistants. 
 
 The two men waited, with a mischievous 
 interest in seeing what he would do next. 
 The list of their pious officer's virtues in- 
 cluded a constitutional partiality for women, 
 wliicli exhibited the mercifid side of justice 
 when a criminal wore a petticoat. ' We will 
 take you to Sir Giles, miss,' he said — and 
 offered his arm, instead of offering his hand- 
 cuffs. Iris understood him, and took liis 
 arm. 
 
 Slie was silent— unaccountably silent as 
 tlie men thought — on the way to the town. 
 They lieard her sigh ; and, once, the sigh 
 sounded more like a sob ; little did they sus- 
 pect what was in that silent woman's mind at 
 the time. 
 
 The one object v/hich had absorbed the 
 attention of Iris had been the savino; of Lord 
 Harry. This accomplished, the free exercise 
 
 VOL. I. E 
 
so BLIND LOVE 
 
 of her memory had now reminded her of 
 Arthur Moimtjoy. 
 
 It was hnpossible to doubt that the object 
 of the proposed meeting at the milestone had 
 been to take measures for the preservation 
 of the young man's hfe. A coward is always 
 more or less cruel. The proceedings (equally 
 treacherous and merciless) by which Sir Giles 
 had provided for his own safety, had delayed 
 — perhaps actually prevented — the execution 
 of Lord Harry's humane design. It was 
 possible, horribly possible, tliat a prompt 
 employment of time might have been neces- 
 sary to the rescue of Arthur from impending 
 death by murder. In the agitation that over- 
 powered her, Iris actually hurried the police 
 on their return to the town. 
 
 Sir Giles had arranged to wait for news in 
 his private room at the office — and there he 
 was, with Dennis Howmore in attendance to 
 receive visitors. 
 
THE PROLOGUE 51 
 
 The Sergeant went into the Ijanker's room 
 alone, to make his report. He left the door 
 ajar ; Iris conld hear what passed. 
 
 ' Have yon got 3'onr prisoner ? ' Sir Giles 
 began. 
 
 ' Yes, your honour.' 
 
 ' Is the wretch securely handcuffed ? ' 
 
 ' I beg your pardon, sir, it isn't a man.' 
 
 ' Nonsense, Sergeant ; it can't l)e a boy. ' 
 
 The Sergeant confessed that it was not a 
 boy. ' It's a woman,' he said. 
 
 ' What ! ! ! ' 
 
 ' A woman,' the patient officer repeated — 
 ' and a young one. She asked for You.' 
 
 ' Bring her in.' 
 
 Iris was not the sort of person wlio waits 
 to be brought in. She walked in, of her own 
 accord. 
 
 UnSiTY of ILLINOIS 
 
52 BLIND LOVE 
 
 yii 
 
 'OOD HEAVENS ! ' cried Sir Giles. 
 ' Iris ! With my cloak on ! ! 
 With my hat in her hand ! ! ! 
 Sergeant, there has been some dreadfid mis- 
 take. This is my goddaughter — Miss Henley.' 
 
 'We found her at the milestone, your 
 honour. The young lady, and nobody else.' 
 
 Sir Giles appealed helplessly to his god- 
 daughter. ' What does this mean ? ' Instead 
 of answering, she looked at the Sergeant. 
 The Sergeant, conscious of responsibility, 
 stood his ground and looked at Sir Giles. His 
 face confessed that the Irish sense of humour 
 was tickled ; but he showed no intention of 
 leaving the room. Sir Giles saw tluit Iris 
 would enter into no explanation in the man's 
 
THE PROLOGUE 53 
 
 presence. ' You needn't wait any longer,' he 
 said. 
 
 ' What am I to do, if you please, with the 
 prisoner ? ' the Sergeant inquired. 
 
 Sir Giles waived that unnecessary question 
 away with his hand. He was trebly respon- 
 sible — as knight, banker, and magistrate into 
 tlie bargain. ' I will be answerable,' he 
 replied, ' for producing Miss Henley, if called 
 upon. Good-night.' 
 
 The Sergeant's sense of duty was satisfied. 
 He made the military salute. His gallantry 
 added homage to the young lady under the 
 form of a bow. Then, and then only, he 
 walked with dignity out of the room. 
 
 ' Now,' Sir Giles resumed, ' I presume I 
 may expect to receive an explanation. What 
 does this impropriety mean ? What were you 
 doing at the milestone ? ' 
 
 ' I was saving the person who made tlie 
 appointment with you,' Iris said ; ' tlie poor 
 
54 BLIND LOVE 
 
 fellow wlio had no ill-will towards you — who 
 had risked everything to save your nephew's 
 life. Oh, sir, you committed a terrible 
 mistake when you refused to trust that 
 man ! ' 
 
 Sir Giles had anticipated the appearance 
 of fear, and the reality of humble apologies. 
 She had answered him indignantly, with a 
 heightened colour, and with tears in her eyes. 
 His sense of his own social importance was 
 wounded to the quick. ' Who is the man you 
 are speaking of ? ' he asked loftily. ' And 
 what is your excuse for having gone to the 
 milestone to save him — hidden under my 
 cloak, disguised in my hat ? ' 
 
 ' Don't waste precious time in asking ques- 
 tions ! ' was the desperate reply. ' Undo the 
 harm that you have done already. Your 
 help — oh, I mean what I say ! — may yet 
 preserve Arthur's life. Go to the farm, and 
 save him.' 
 
THE PROLOGUE 55 
 
 Sir Giles's anger assumed a new form ; it 
 indulged in an elaborate mockery of respect. 
 He took ]iis watcli from his pocket, and con- 
 sulted it satirically. ' Must I make an excuse ? ' 
 he asked, with a clumsy assumption of 
 humility. 
 
 ' No ! you must go.' 
 
 ' Permit me to inform you, Miss Henley, 
 that the last train started more than two 
 hours since.' 
 
 ' What does that matter ? You are rich 
 enough to hire a train.' 
 
 Sir Giles, the actor, could endure it no 
 longer ; he dropped the mask, and revealed 
 Sir Giles, the man. His clerk was summoned 
 by a peremptory ring of the bell. ' Attend 
 Miss Henley to the house,' he said. ' You 
 may come to your senses after a night's rest,' 
 he continued, turning sternly to Iris. ' I will 
 receive your excuses in the morning.' 
 
 In the mornini?, the breakfast was ready 
 
56 BUND LOVE 
 
 as usual at nine o'clock. Sir Giles found 
 himself alone at the table. 
 
 He sent an order to one of the women- 
 servants to knock at Miss Henley's door. 
 There was a long delay. The housekeeper 
 presented herself in a state of alarm ; she had 
 gone upstairs to make the necessary investi- 
 gation in her own person. Miss Henley was 
 not in her room ; tlie maid was not in her 
 room ; the beds had been slept in ; the 
 heavy luggage was labelled : 'To be called 
 for from the hotel.' And there was an end 
 of the evidence which the absent Iris had left 
 behind her. 
 
 Inquiries were made at the hotel. The 
 young lady had called there, with her maid, 
 early on that morning. They had their travel- 
 ling-bags with them ; and Miss Henley had left 
 directions that the luggage was to be placed 
 under care of the landlord until hei' return. 
 
THE PROLOGUE 57 
 
 To what destination she had betaken herself 
 nobody knew. 
 
 Sir Giles was too angry to remember what 
 she had said to him on the previous night, or 
 he might have guessed at the motive which 
 had led to her departure. ' Her father has 
 done with her already,' he said ; ' and I have 
 done with her now.' The servants received 
 orders not to admit Miss Henley, if her 
 audacity contemplated a return to her god- 
 father's house. 
 
58 BLIND LOVE 
 
 VIII 
 
 !N the afternoon of the same day, Iris 
 arrived at the village situated in 
 the near neighbourhood of Arthur 
 Mountjoy's farm. 
 
 The infection of political excitement 
 (otherwise, the hatred of England) had spread 
 even to this remote place. On the steps of 
 his little chapel, the priest, a peasant himself, 
 was haranguing his brethren of the soil. An 
 Irishman Avho paid his landlord was a traitor 
 to his country ; an Irishman who asserted his 
 free birthright in the land that he walked 
 on was an enlightened patriot. Such was 
 the new law which the reverend gentleman 
 expounded to his attentive audience. If his 
 brethren there would like him to tell them 
 
THE PROLOGUE 59 
 
 how they might apply the law, this exem- 
 plary Christian would point to the faithless 
 Irishman, Arthur Mountjoy. ' Buy not of 
 him ; sell not to him ; avoid him if he ap- 
 proaches you ; starve him out of the place. I 
 might say more, boys — you know what I mean.' 
 To hear the latter part of this effort of 
 oratory, without uttering a word of protest, 
 was a trial of endurance under which Iris 
 trembled. The secondary effect of the priest's 
 address was to root the conviction of Arthur's 
 danger with tenfold tenacity in her mind. 
 After what she had just heard, even the 
 slightest delay in securing his safety might be 
 productive of deplorable results. She aston- 
 ished a barefooted boy, on the outskirts of 
 the crowd, by a gift of sixpence, and asked 
 her way to the farm. The little Irishman ran 
 on before her, eager to show the generous 
 lady how useful he could be. In less than 
 half an hour, Iris and her maid were at the 
 
66 BLIND LOVE 
 
 door of the farm-house. No such civihsed 
 inventions appeared as a knocker or a belL 
 The boy used his knuckles instead — and ran 
 away when he heard the lock of the door 
 turned on the inner side. He was afraid to 
 be seen speaking to any living creature wlio 
 inhabited tlie ' evicted farm.' 
 
 A decent old woman appeared, and in- 
 quired suspiciously ' what the ladies wanted.' 
 The accent in which she spoke was unmis- 
 takably English. When Iris asked for Mr. 
 Arthur Mountjoy the reply was: 'Not at 
 home.' The housekeeper inhospitably at- 
 tempted to close the door. ' Wait one 
 moment,' Iris said. 'Years have changed 
 you ; but there is something in your face 
 which is not quite strange to me. Are you 
 Mrs. Lewson ? ' 
 
 The woman admitted that this was lier 
 name. ' But how is it that you are a stranger 
 to me ? ' she asked distrustfully. 
 
.,/ 
 
 1S^^,I 
 
 i'W^'IllliWrnmtiiiif^;^^"^;;^^ 
 
 Mrs. Lczusoti s /ace brightc7icd in an instant ; she thrczv the door wide open zvith a glad 
 cry of recognition. 
 
THE PROLOGUE 6f 
 
 'If you have been long in Mr. Mountjoy's 
 service,' Iris replied, ' you rnay perliaps liave 
 heard him speak of Miss Henley ? ' 
 
 Mrs. Lewson's face brightened in an in- 
 stant ; she threw the door wide open witli a 
 glad cry of recognition. 
 
 ' Come in, miss, come in ! Who would 
 have thought of seeing you in this horrible 
 place ? Yes ; I was the nurse who looked 
 after you all three — when you and Mr. 
 Arthur and Mr. Hugh were playfellows to- 
 gether.' Her eyes rested longingly on her 
 favourite of bygone days. The sensitive sym- 
 pathies of Iris interpreted that look. She 
 prettily touched her cheek, inviting the nurse 
 to kiss her. At this act of kindness the poor 
 old woman broke down : she apologised 
 quaintly for her tears : ' Think, miss, how 1 
 must remember that happy time — wlien you 
 have not forgotten it.' 
 
 foiiown into the parlour, the first object 
 
62 BUND LOVE 
 
 which the visitor noticed was the letter that 
 she had written to Arthur lying unopened on 
 the table. 
 
 ' Then he is really out of the house ? ' she 
 said, with a feehng of relief. 
 
 He had been away from the farm for 
 a week or more. Had he received a warning 
 from some other quarter? and had he wisely 
 sought refuge in flight ? The amazement in 
 the housekeeper's face, when she heard these 
 questions, pleaded for a word of explanation. 
 Iris acknowledged without reserve the mo- 
 tives which had suggested her journey, and 
 asked eagerly if she had been mistaken in 
 assuming that Arthur was in danger of assas- 
 sination. 
 
 Mrs. Lewson shook her head. Beyond all 
 doubt tlie young master was in danger. But 
 Miss Iris ought to have known his nature 
 better than to suppose tliat he would beat 
 a retreat, if all the land-leacruers in Ireland 
 
THE PROLOGUE 63 
 
 threatened him together. No ! It was his 
 bold way to hiiigli at danger. He had left 
 his farm to visit a friend in the next county ; 
 and it was shrewdly guessed that a young 
 lady who was staying in the house was the 
 attraction wliich had kej^t him so long away. 
 ' Anyliow, he means to come back to-mor- 
 row,' Mrs. Lewson said. ' I wish he would 
 think better of it, and make his escape to 
 England while he has the chance. If the 
 savages in these parts must slioot somebody, 
 I'm here — an old woman that can't last much 
 longer. Let tliem shoot me.' 
 
 Iris asked if Arthur's safet}^ was assured 
 in the next county, and in the house of his 
 friend. 
 
 ' I can't saj^ miss ; I have never been to 
 the house. He is in danger if he persists in 
 coming back to tlie farm. There are chances 
 of shooting him all along his road liome. Oli, 
 yes ; he knows it, poor dear, as well as I do. 
 
64 BLIND LOVE 
 
 But, there ! — men. like hiiu are sucli perverse 
 creatures. He takes his rides just as usual. 
 No ; he won't hsten to an old woman like 
 me ; and as for friends to advise him, tlie 
 only one of them that has darkened our 
 doors is a scamp who had better liave kept 
 away. You may have heard tell of him. 
 The old earl, his wicked father, used to be 
 called by a bad name. And the wild young 
 lord is his father's true son.' 
 
 ' Not Lord Harry ? ' Iris exclaimed. 
 
 The outbreak of agitation in her tone and 
 manner was silently noticed by her maid. 
 The housekeeper did not attempt to conceal 
 the impression that had been produced upon 
 her. ' I hope you don't know such a vaga- 
 bond as thatP' she said very seriously. 
 ' Perhaps you are tliinking of his brother — 
 the eldest son-~a respectable man, as I liave 
 been told ? ' 
 
 Miss Henley passed over these questions 
 
THE PROLOGUE 65 
 
 without notice. Urged by the interest in her 
 lover, whicli was now more than ever an 
 interest beyond her control, she said : ' Is 
 Lord Harry in danger, on account of his 
 friend ? ' 
 
 ' He has nothing to fear from the 
 wretches who infest our part of the country,' 
 Mrs. Lewson replied. 'Eejoort says he's one 
 of themselves. The police — there's what his 
 young lordship has to be afraid of, if all's 
 true that is said about him. Anyhow, when 
 lie paid his visit to my master he came 
 secretly like a thief in the night. And I 
 heard Mr. Artliur, while they were together 
 here in the parlour, loud in blaming him for 
 something that he had done. No more. Miss, 
 of Lord Harry ! I have something particular 
 to say to you. Suppose I promise to make 
 you comfortable — will you please wait here 
 till to-morrow, and see Mr. Arthur and speak 
 
 VOL. J. F 
 
C6 BLIND LOVE 
 
 to him ? If there's a person Hving who can 
 persuade him to take better care of himself, I 
 do beheve it will be you.' 
 
 Iris readily consented to wait for Arthur 
 Mountjoy's return. Left together, while Mrs. 
 Lewson was attending to her domestic duties, 
 the mistress noticed an appearance of pre- 
 occupation in the maid's face. 
 
 'Are you beginning to wish, Ehoda,' she 
 said, ' that I had not brought you to this 
 strange place, among these wild people ? ' 
 
 The maid was a quiet amiable girl, evi- 
 dently in delicate health. She smiled faintly. 
 ' I was thinking. Miss, of another nobleman 
 besides the one Mrs. Lewson mentioned just 
 now, who seems to liave led a reckless life. 
 It was printed in a newspaper that I read 
 before we left London.' 
 
 ' Was his name mentioned ? ' Iris asked. 
 
 ' No, Miss ; I suppose they were afraid of 
 giving offence. He tried so many strange 
 
THE PROLOGUE 67 
 
 ways of getting a living — it was almost like 
 reading a story-book.' 
 
 The suppression of the name suggested a 
 suspicion from which Iris recoiled. Was it 
 possible that her maid could be ignorantly 
 alluding to Lord Harry ? 
 
 'Do you remember this hero's adven- 
 tures ? ' she said. 
 
 ' I can try, Miss, if you wish to hear about 
 him.' 
 
 The newspaper narrative appeared to 
 have produced a vivid impression on Ehoda's 
 mind. Making; allowance for natural hesita- 
 tions and mistakes, and difficulties in expres- 
 sing herself correctly, she repeated with a 
 singularly clear recollection the substance of 
 what she had read. 
 
 P2 
 
68 BLIND LOVE 
 
 IX 
 
 I HE principal characters in the story 
 were an old Irish nobleman, who 
 was called tlie Earl, and the 
 youngest of his two sons, mysteriously distin- 
 guished as ' the wild lord.' 
 
 It was said of the Earl that he had not 
 been a good father ; he had cruelly neglected 
 both his sons. The younger one, badly 
 treated at school, and left to himself in the 
 holidays, began his adventurous career by 
 running away. lie got employment (under 
 an assumed name) as a ship's boy. At the 
 outset, he did well ; learning his work, and 
 being liked by the Captain and the crew. 
 But the chief unite was a brutal man, and the 
 
THE PROLOGUE 69 
 
 youDg runaway's quick temper resented the 
 disgraceful infliction of blows. He made up 
 liis mind to try his luck on shore, and at- 
 tached himself to a company of strolling 
 players. Being a handsome lad, with a good 
 figure and a fine clear voice, he did very well 
 for a while on the country stage. Hard times 
 came ; salaries were reduced ; the adventurer 
 wearied of the society of actors and actresses. 
 His next change of life presented him in North 
 Britain as a journalist, employed on a Scotch 
 newspaper. An unfortunate love-affair was 
 the means of depriving him of this new occu- 
 pation. He was recognised, soon afterwards, 
 serving as assistant-steward in one of the 
 passenger steamers voyaging between Liver- 
 pool and New York. Arrived in this last city, 
 he obtained notoriety, of no very respectable 
 kind, as a ' medium ' claiming powers of super- 
 natural communication with the world of 
 spirits. When the imposture was idtimately 
 
70 BLIND LOVE 
 
 discovered, he had gamed money by his un- 
 worthy appeal to the meanly prosaic super- 
 stition of modern times. A long interval had 
 then elapsed, and nothing had been heard of 
 him, when a starving man was discovered by 
 a traveller lost on a Western prairie. The ill- 
 fated Irish lord had associated himself with 
 an Indian tribe — had committed some offence 
 against their laws — and had been deliberately 
 deserted and left to die. On his recovery, he 
 wrote to his elder brother (who had inherited 
 the title and estates on the death of the old 
 Earl) to say that he was ashamed of the life that 
 he had led, and eager to make amendment by 
 accepting any honest employment that could 
 be offered to him. The traveller who had 
 saved his life, and whose opinion was to be 
 trusted, declared that the letter represented 
 a sincerely penitent state of mind. There were 
 good qualities in the vagabond, which only 
 wanted a little merciful encouragement to 
 
THE PROLOGUE 71 
 
 assert themselves. The reply that he received 
 from England came from the lawyers employed 
 by the new Earl. They had arranged with 
 their agents in Xew York to pay to the yonnger 
 brother a legacy of a thousand pounds, wliich 
 represented all that had been left to ]um by 
 his father's will. If he wrote again, his letters 
 Avould not be answered ; his brother had done 
 with him. Treated in this inhuman manner, 
 the wild lord became once more worthy of his 
 name. He tried a new hfe as a betting man at 
 races and trotting-matches. Fortune favoured 
 him at the outset, and he considerably increased 
 his legacy. Witli the customary infatuation 
 of men who gain money by risking the loss 
 of it, he presumed on his good luck. One 
 pecuniary disaster followed another, and left 
 him literally penniless. He was found again, 
 in England ; exhibiting an open boat, in which 
 he and a companion had made one of those 
 foolhardy voyages across tlie Atlantic, 
 
72 BLIND LOVE 
 
 which have now happily ceased to interest the 
 pubhc. To a fiicncl who remonstrated with 
 him, he answered that he had reckoned on being 
 lost at sea, and on so committing a suicide 
 worthy of the desperate life that he had led. 
 The last accounts of him, after this, were too 
 vague and too contradictory to be depended 
 on. At one time it was reported that he had 
 returned to the United States. Not long after- 
 wards, unaccountable paragraphs appeared 
 in newspapers, declaring, at one and the same 
 time, that he was living among bad company 
 in Paris, and that he was hiding disreputably 
 in an ill-famed quarter of the city of Dublin, 
 called ' The Liberties.' In any case, there was 
 good reason to fear that Irish-American 
 desperadoes had entangled the wild lord in the 
 network of political conspiracy. 
 
 The maid noticed a change in the mistress 
 which surprised her, when she had reached 
 
THE PROLOGUE t>> 
 
 the end of the newspaper story. Of Miss 
 Henley's customary good spirits not a trace 
 remained. ' Few people, Ehoda, remember 
 wliat they read as well as you do.' She said 
 it kindly and sadly — and she said no more. 
 
 There was a reason for this. 
 
 Xow at one time, and now at another, Iris 
 liad heard of Lord Harry's faults and faiUngs 
 in fragments of family history. The complete 
 record of his degraded life, presented in an 
 uninterrupted succession of events, had now 
 forced itself on her attention for the first time. 
 It naturally shocked her. She felt, as she had 
 never felt before, how entirely right her father 
 had been in insisting on her resistance to an 
 attachment which was unworthy of her. So 
 far, but no farther, her conscience yielded 
 to its own conviction of what was just. But 
 the one unassailable vital force in this world 
 is the force of love. It may submit to the 
 hard necessities of life ; it may acknowledge 
 
74 BLIND LOVE 
 
 the imperative claims of duty ; it Diay be silent 
 under reproach, and submissive to privation — 
 but, suffer what it may, it is the master-passion 
 still, subject to no artificial influences, owning 
 no supremacy but the law of its own being. 
 Iris was above the reach of self-reproach, 
 when her memory recalled the daring action 
 which had saved Lord Harry at the milestone. 
 Her better sense acknowledged Hugli Mount- 
 joy's superiority over the otlier man — but her 
 heart, her perverse heart, remained true to its 
 first choice in spite of her. She made an im- 
 patient excuse, and went out alone, to recover 
 her composure in the farm-house garden. 
 
 The hours of the evening passed slowly. 
 
 There was a pack of cards in the house ; 
 the women tried to amuse themselves, and 
 failed. Anxiety about Arthur preyed on 
 the spirits of Miss Henley and Mrs. Lewson. 
 Even the maid, who had only seen him during 
 his last visit to London, said she wished to- 
 
THE PROLOGUE 75 
 
 morrow liad come and gone. Ilis sweet 
 temper, his handsome face, his Hvely talk had 
 made Arthur a favourite everywhere. Mrs. 
 Lewson had left her comfortable English home 
 to be his housekeeper, when he tried his rash 
 experiment of farming in Ireland. And, more 
 wonderful still, even wearisome Sir Giles 
 became an agreeable person in his nephew's 
 company. 
 
 Iris set the example of retiring at an early 
 hour to her room. 
 
 There was something terrible in the pas- 
 toral silence of the place. It associated itself 
 mysteriously with her fears for Arthur ; it 
 suggested armed treachery on tiptoe, taking 
 its murderous stand in hidincf ; the whistlinfjr 
 passage of bullets through the air; tlie pierc- 
 ing cry of a man mortally wounded ; and that 
 
 man perhaps ? Iris shrank from her own 
 
 horrid thought. A momentary faintness 
 overcame her ; she opened the window. As 
 
76 BUND LOVE 
 
 slie put her head out to breathe the cool night 
 air, a man on horseback rode up to the house. 
 Was it Arthur ? Xo : the hght-coloured 
 groom's hvery that he wore was just visible. 
 
 Before he could dismount to knock at the 
 door, a tall man walked up to him out of the 
 darkness. 
 
 'Is that Miles .^ ' tlie tall man asked. 
 
 The groom knew the voice. Iris was even 
 better acquainted with it. She, too, recog- 
 nised Lord Harrv. v 
 
TIIK PROLOGUE 
 
 X 
 
 HERE was 
 the Irish 
 lord — at 
 the very 
 time when 
 Iris was 
 most patiently 
 resigned never 
 to see him 
 more, never to 
 tliink of him as 
 lier husband again 
 — reminding her 
 of the first days of 
 their love, and of their mutual confession of 
 it ! Fear of herself kept her behind the cur- 
 
79 BLIND LOVE 
 
 tain ; wliile interest in Lord Harry detained 
 her at tlie window in hidinc^. 
 
 ' All well at Eathco P ' he asked — men- 
 tioning the name of the house in which Arthur 
 was one of the guests. 
 
 ' Yes, my lord. Mr. Mountjoy leaves us 
 to-morrow.' 
 
 ' Does he mean to return to the farm .^ ' 
 
 ' Sorry I am to say it ; he does mean 
 that.' 
 
 ' Has he fixed any time, Miles, for starting 
 on his journey ? ' 
 
 Miles instituted a search through his 
 pockets, and accompanied it by an explana- 
 tion. Yes, indeed. Master Arthur had fixed a 
 time ; he had written a note to say so to Mis- 
 tress Lewson the housekeeper ; lie had said, 
 ' Drop the note at the farm, on your way to the 
 village.' And what might Miles want at the 
 village, in the dark ? Medicine, in a hurry, 
 for one of his master's horses that was sick 
 
THE PROLOGUE 78 
 
 and sinking. And, speaking of that, here, 
 thank God, was the note ! 
 
 Iris, hstening and watching alternately, 
 saw to her surprise the note intended for Mrs. 
 Lewson handed to Lord Harry. ' Am I ex- 
 pected,' he asked jocosely, ' to read writing 
 without a light ? ' Miles produced a small 
 lantern which was strapped to his groom's 
 belt. ' There's parts of the road not over safe 
 in the dark,' he said as he raised the shade 
 which guarded the light. The wild lord 
 coolly opened the letter, and read the few 
 careless words which it contained. 'To Mrs. 
 Lewson : — Dear old girl, expect me back to- 
 morrow to dinner at three o'clock. — Yours, 
 Arthur.' 
 
 There was a pause. 
 
 ' Are there any strangers at Eathco P ' 
 Lord Harry asked. 
 
 ' Two new men,' Miles replied, ' at work 
 in the ^rounds.' 
 
8o BLIND LOVE 
 
 There was another pause. ' How can I 
 protect him ? ' the young lord said partly to 
 liimself partly to Miles. He suspected the 
 two new men — s])ies ])robably wlio knew of 
 Arthur's proposed journey home, and -wlio 
 liad already reported to tlieir employers the 
 hour at whicli he would set out. 
 
 Miles ventured to say a word : ' I hope 
 you won't be angry with me, my lord ' 
 
 ' Stuff and nonsense ! Was I ever angry 
 with you, when I was rich enough to keep a 
 servant, and when you were the man ? ' 
 
 The Irish groom answered in a voice 
 that trembled with strong feeling. 'You 
 were the best and kindest master that ever 
 hved on this eartli. I can't see you putting 
 your precious life in peril ' 
 
 ' My precious life ? ' Lord Harry repeated 
 lightly. ' You're thinking of Mr. Mountjoy, 
 when you say tliat. 77/^' life is worth saving. 
 As for my life ' He ended tlie sen- 
 
THE PROLOGUE 8i 
 
 tence by a wliistle, as the best way he could 
 hit on of expressing his contempt for his OAvn 
 existence. 
 
 ' My lord ! my lord I ' Miles persisted ; 
 ' the Invincibles are beginning to doubt you. 
 If any of them find j^ou hanging about Mr. 
 Mount joy's farm, they'll try a shot at you 
 first, and ask afterwards whether it was right 
 to kill you or not.' 
 
 To hear this said— and said seriously — 
 after the saving of him at the milestone, was 
 a trial of her firmness which Iris was unable 
 to resist. Love got the better of prudence. 
 She drew back the Avindow-curtain. In 
 another moment, she would have added her 
 persuasion to the servant's warning, if Lord 
 Harry himself had not accidentally checked 
 her by a proceeding, on his part, for which 
 she was not prepared. 
 
 ' Show the light,' he said ; ' I'll write a line 
 to Mr. Mountjoy.' 
 
 VOL. I. G 
 
82 BLIND LOVE 
 
 He tore off the blank page from the note 
 to the housekeeper, and wrote to Arthur, 
 entreathig him to change the time of his de- 
 parture from Eathco, and to tell no creature 
 in the house, or out of the house, at what 
 new hour he had arranged to go. ' Saddle 
 your horse yourself,' the letter concluded. 
 It was written in a feigned hand, Avitliout a 
 signature. 
 
 ' Give that to Mr. Mountjoy,' Lord Harry 
 said. ' If he asks who wrote it, don't frighten 
 him about me by telling the truth. Lie, 
 Miles ! Say you don't know.' He next re- 
 turned the note for Mrs. Lewson. 'If she 
 notices that it has been opened,' he resumed, 
 ' and asks who has done it, lie again. Good- 
 nisfht. Miles — and mind those dan£>"erous 
 places on your road liomc.' 
 
 The groom darkened his lantern ; and the 
 wild lord was lost to view, round the side of 
 the house. 
 
THE PROLOGUE 83 
 
 Left by himself, Miles rapped at the door 
 with the handle of his whip. ' A letter from 
 Mr. Arthur,' he called out. Mrs. Lewson at 
 once took the note, and examined it by the 
 light of the candle on the hall-table. ' Some- 
 body has been reading this ! ' she exclaimed, 
 stepping out to the groom, and showing him 
 the torn envelope. Miles, promptly obeying 
 his instructions, declared that he knew nothing 
 . about it, and rode away. 
 
 Iris descended the stairs, and joined Mrs. 
 Lewson in the hall before she 4iad closed the 
 door. The housekeeper at once produced 
 Arthur's letter. 
 
 ' It's on my mind. Miss,' she said, • to WTite 
 an answer, and say something to Mr. Arthur 
 which wnll persuade him to take care of him- 
 self, on his w^ay back to tlie farm. The 
 difficulty is, how am I to expiress it? You 
 would l)e doing; a kind thino; if you would 
 liive me a word of advice.' 
 
 G 2 
 
84 BLIND LOVE 
 
 Iris willingly complied. A second note, 
 from the anxious housekeeper, might help the 
 effect of the few lines which Lord Harry had 
 written. 
 
 Arthur's letter informed Iris that he had 
 arranged to return at three o'clock. Lord 
 Harry's question to the groom, and the man's 
 reply, instantly recurred to her memory : 
 ' Are there any strangers at Eathco P '■ — ' Two 
 new men at work in the grounds.' Arriving 
 at the same conclusion which had already 
 occurred to Lord Harry, Iris advised the 
 liousekeeper, in writing to Arthur, to entreat 
 him to change the hour, secretly, at which 
 he left his friend's house on tlic next day. 
 Warmly approving of this idea, Mrs. Lewson 
 hurried into the parlour to write her letter. 
 ' Don't go to bed yet. Miss,' she said ; ' I want 
 you to read it before I send it away the first 
 thincf to-morrow mornino'.' 
 
 Left alone in the halh witli tlie door open 
 
THE PROLOGUE 85 
 
 before her, Iris looked out on the niglit, 
 thinking. 
 
 The hves of the two men in whom slie 
 was interested — in widely different ways — 
 were now both threatened ; and the imminent 
 danger, at that moment, was the danger of 
 Lord Harry. He was an outlaw whose cha- 
 racter W'Ould not bear investigation ; but, to 
 give him his due, there was no risk which he 
 was not ready to confront for Arthurs sake. 
 If he was still recklessly lingering, on the 
 watch for assassins in the danegerous neigh- 
 bourhood of the farm, who but herself pos- 
 sessed the influence which would prevail on 
 him to leave the place? She had joined Mrs. 
 Lewson at the door with that conviction in 
 her mind. In another instant, she was out 
 of the liouse, and bea-inninii" her search in the 
 dark. 
 
 Iris made the round of the building ; 
 sometimes feeling her way in obscure places, 
 
86 BLIND LOVE 
 
 sometimes calling to Lord Harry cautiously 
 by liis name. No living creature appeared ; 
 no sound of a inovement disturbed tlie still- 
 ness of tlie night. The discovery of his ab- 
 sence, wliich she had not dared to hope for, 
 was the cheering discovery which she had 
 now made. 
 
 On her way back to the house, she 
 became conscious of the rashness of the act 
 into which her own generous impulse liad 
 betrayed her. 
 
 If she and Lord Harry had met, could she 
 have denied the tender interest in him which 
 her own conduct would then have revealed ? 
 Would he not have been justified in con- 
 cluding that she had pardoned the errors and 
 the vices of his life, and that he ]night with- 
 out impropriety remind her of their engage^ 
 ment, and claim her hand in marriage? She 
 trembled as she tliought of the concessions 
 which lie mi^-ht have wruno' from her. 
 
THE PROLOGUE 87 
 
 ' Never more,' she determined, ' shall my own 
 folly be answerable for it, if he and I meet 
 again.' 
 
 She had returned to Mrs. Lewson, and 
 had read over the letter to Arthur, when the 
 farm clock, striking the hour, reminded them 
 that it was time to retire. They slept badly 
 that nio^ht. 
 
 At six in the morning, one of the two 
 labourers who had remained faithful to 
 Arthur was sent away on horseback with the 
 housekeeper's reply, and with orders to wait 
 for an answer. Allowing time for oivino: the 
 horse a rest, the man might be expected to 
 return before noon. 
 
88 BLIND LOVE 
 
 XI 
 
 ^T was a fine sunshiny day ; Mrs. 
 
 Lewson's spirits began to improve. 
 
 ' I have always held the belief,' the 
 worthy old woman confessed, ' that bright 
 weather brings good luck — of course pro- 
 vided the day is not a Friday. This is 
 Wednesday. Cheer up. Miss.' 
 
 The messenger returned with good news. 
 Mr. Arthur had been as merry as usual. He 
 had made fun of another letter of good 
 advice, received without a signature. ' But 
 Mrs. Lewson must have her way,' he said. 
 ' My love to tlie old dear — I'll start two hours 
 later and be back to dinner at five.' 
 
 'Where did Mr. Arthur give you that 
 message ? ' Iris inquired. 
 
THE PROLOGUE 89 
 
 ' At the stables, Miss, while I was putting 
 up the horse. The men about were all on tlie 
 broad grin when they heard Mr. Arthur's 
 message.' 
 
 Still in a morbid state of mind, Iris 
 silently regretted that tlie message had not 
 been written, instead of being delivered by 
 word of mouth. Here, again, she (like the 
 wild lord) had been afraid of hsteners. 
 
 The hours wore slowly on until it was 
 past four o'clock. Iris could endure the sus- 
 pense no longer. ' It's a lovely afternoon,' she 
 said to Mrs. Lewson. ' Let us take a walk 
 along the road, and meet Arthur.' To this 
 proposal the housekeeper readily agreed. 
 
 It w^as nearly five o'clock when they 
 reached a place at which a by-road branched 
 off, through a wood, from the highway which 
 they had hitlierto followed. Mrs. Lewson 
 found a seat on a felled tree. ' We had 
 better not go any farther,' she said. 
 
90 BLIND LOVE 
 
 Iris asked if there was any reason for 
 this. 
 
 There was an excellent reason. A few 
 yards farther on, the high road had been 
 diverted from the straight line (in the interest 
 of a large agricultural village), and was then 
 directed again into its former course. The 
 by-road through the wood served as a short 
 cut, for horsemen and pedestrians, from one 
 divergent point to the other. It was next to 
 a certainty that Arthur would return by the 
 short cut. But, if accident or caprice led to 
 his preferring the highway, it was clearly 
 necessary to wait for him within view of both 
 the roads. 
 
 Too restless to submit to a state of pas- 
 sive expectation. Iris proposed to follow the 
 bridle-path through the wood for a little way, 
 and to return if she failed to see anything of 
 Arthur. ' You are tired,' she said kindly 
 to her companion ; ' pray don't move ' 
 
THE PROLOGUE 91 
 
 Mrs. Lewson looked needlessly uneasy : 
 ' You might lose yourself, Miss. Mind you 
 keep to the patli ! ' 
 
 Iris followed the pleasant windings of the 
 woodland track. In the liope of meeting 
 Arthur she considerably extended the lengtli 
 of her walk. The wliite line of the higli road, 
 as it passed the farther end of the wood, 
 showed itself through the trees. She turned 
 at once to rejoin Mrs. Lewson. 
 
 On her way back she made a discovery. 
 A ruin which she had not previously noticed 
 showed itself amonsf the trees on her left 
 hand. Her curiosity was excited ; she 
 strayed aside to examine it more closely. 
 The crumbling walls, as she approached 
 them, looked like the remains of. an ordinary 
 dwelhng-house. Age is essential to the 
 picturesque effect of decay ; a modern ruin 
 is an unnatural and depressing object — and 
 here the horrid thincr was. 
 
92 BLIND LOVE 
 
 As she turned to retrace lier steps to ilie 
 road, a man walked out of the inner space 
 enclosed by all that was left of the dismantled 
 house. A cry of alarm escaped her. Was 
 she the victim of destiny, or the sport of 
 chance .^ There was the wild lord whom she 
 had vowed never to see ao-ain : the master of 
 her heart — perhaps the master of her fate ! 
 
 Any other man Avould have been amazed 
 to see her, and would have asked how it had 
 happened tliat the English lady presented 
 lierself to liini in an Irish wood. This man 
 enjoyed the delight of seeing her, and ac- 
 cepted it as a blessing that was not to be 
 questioned. ' My angel has dropped from 
 Heaven,' he said. ' May Heaven be praised ! ' 
 
 He approached her ; his arms closed 
 round her. She struggled to free herself 
 from his embrace. At that moment they 
 both heard the crackle of breakinc^ under- 
 wood amonu the trees behind them. Lord 
 
THE PROLOGUE 93 
 
 Harry looked round. ' This is a dangerous 
 place,' he whispered ; ' I'm waiting to sec 
 Arthur pass safely. Submit to be kissed, or 
 I am a dead man.' His eyes told lier that lie 
 was truly and fearfully in earnest. Her head 
 sank on his bosom. As he bent down and 
 kissed her, three men approached from their 
 hiding-place among the trees. They had no 
 doubt been watching him, under orders from 
 the murderous brotherhood to which they 
 belonged. Their pistols were ready in their 
 hands — and what discovery had they made ? 
 There was the brother who had been de- 
 nounced as having betrayed them, guilty of 
 no worse treason than meeting liis sweetheart 
 in a wood I ' We beg your pardon, my lord,' 
 they cried with a thoroughly Irish enjoyment 
 of their own discomfiture — and burst into a 
 roar of laughter — and left the lovers together. 
 For the second time, Iris had saved Lord 
 Harry at a crisis in liis life. 
 
94 BLIND LOVE 
 
 ' Let me go ! ' she pleaded faintly, trem- 
 bling with superstitious fear for the first time 
 in her experience of herself. 
 
 He held her to him as if he would never 
 let her go again. ' Oli, my Sweet, give me a 
 last chance. Helj:) me to be a better man ! 
 You have only to will it, Iris, and to make 
 me worthy of you.' 
 
 His arms suddenly trembled round her, 
 and dropped. The silence was broken by a 
 distant sound, like the report of a shot. He 
 looked towards the farther end of the Avood. 
 In a minute more, the thump of a horse's 
 hoofs at a gallop was audible, where the 
 bridle-path was hidden among the trees. It 
 came nearer — nearer — the creature burst 
 into view, wild with fright, and carrying an 
 empty saddle. Lord Harry rushed into the 
 path, and seized the horse as it swerved at 
 the sight of liim. There was a leather pocket 
 attached to the front of the saddle. ' Searcli 
 
She drczv out a silver travellins-fask. One fiance at the navie engraved on it told him the 
 
 terrible truth. 
 
' THE PROLOGUE 95 
 
 it!' lie cried to Iris, forcing tlic terrified 
 animal back on its haunches. She drew out 
 a silver travellini>'-flask. One aiance at the 
 name engraved on it told him the terrible 
 truth. His trembling hands lost their hold. 
 The horse escaped ; the words burst from his 
 lips : 
 
 ' Oh, God, they've killed him ! ' 
 
 THE END OF THE PROLOGUE 
 
THE STORY 
 FIRST PERIOD 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE SOUR FRENCH WIXE 
 
 HILE the line to be taken by the 
 new railway between Cnlni and 
 Everill was still under discussion, 
 the engineer caused some difference of opinion 
 among the moneyed men who were the first 
 Directors of the Company, by asking if they 
 proposed to include among their stations the 
 little old town of Honey buzzard. 
 
 For years past, commerce had declined, 
 and population had decreased in tliis ancient 
 and curious place. Painters knew it well, 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
98 BUND LOVE 
 
 and prized its media3val lioiises as a mine 
 of valuable material for tlieir art. Persons 
 of cultivated tastes, who were interested in 
 church architecture of the fourteenth centur}^ 
 sometimes pleased and flattered the Piector by 
 subscribing^ to his fund for the restoration of 
 the tower, and the removal of tlie accumulated 
 rubbish of hundreds of years from the crypt. 
 Small speculators, not otherwise in a state of 
 insanity, settled themselves in the town, and 
 tried the desperate experiment of opening a 
 shop ; spent their little capital, put up the 
 shutters, and disappeared. The old market- 
 place stiir showed its list of market-laws, issued 
 by the Mayor and • Corporation in the pros- 
 perous bygone times ; and every week there 
 were fewer and fewer people to obey the laws. 
 The great empty enclosure looked more 
 cheerful wlien there was no market held, and 
 when the boys of the town played in tlie 
 deserted place. In the last warehouse left in 
 
THE SOUR FRENCH WINE 99 
 
 a state of repair, the crane was generally idle ; 
 the windows were mostly sliut up ; and a 
 solitary man represented languishing trade, 
 idling at a half-opened d'oor. The muddy 
 river rose and fell with tlie distant tide. At 
 rare intervals a collier discharged its cargo on 
 the mouldering quay, or an empty barge took 
 in a load of hay. One bold house advertised, 
 in a dirty window, apartments to let. There 
 was a lawyer in the town, who had no occa- 
 sion to keep a clerk ; and there was a doctor 
 who hoped to sell his practice for anythino- 
 that it would fetch. The directors of the new 
 railway, after a stormy meeting, decided on 
 offering (by means of a station) a last chance 
 of revival to the dying town. The town had 
 not vitahty enough left to be grateful; the 
 railway stimulant produced no effect. Of all 
 his colleagues in Great Britain and Ireland, 
 the station-master at Honeybuzzard was the 
 idlest man — and this, as he said to the uneni- 
 
 H 2 
 
ICO BLIhW LOVE 
 
 ployed porter, through no want of energy on 
 his own part. 
 
 Late on a rainy autumn afternoon, the 
 slow train left one traveller at the station. 
 He got out of a first-class carriage ; he carried 
 an umbrella and a travelling-bag ; and he 
 asked his way to the best inn. The station- 
 master and the porter compared notes. One 
 of them said : ' Evidently a gentleman.' The 
 other added: 'What can he possibly want 
 here ? ' 
 
 The stranger twice lost his way in tlie 
 tortuous old streets of the town before he 
 reached the inn. On giving liis orders, it ap- 
 peared that he wanted three things : a private 
 room, something to eat, and, while the dinner 
 was being cooked, materials for writing a 
 letter. 
 
 Answering her daughter's questions down- 
 stairs, the landlady described her guest as a 
 nice-looking man dressed in deep mourning. 
 
THE SOUR FRENCH WINE loi 
 
 ' Young, my clear, with beautiful dark brown 
 hair, and a grand beard, and a sweet sorrowful 
 look. Ah, his eyes would tell anybody that 
 his black clothes are not a mere sham. Whe- 
 ther married or single, of course I can't say. 
 But I noticed the name on his travelhng bag. 
 A distinguished name, in my opinion — Hugh 
 Mountjoy. I wonder what he'll order to drink 
 when he has his dinner? What a mercy it 
 will be if we can get rid of another bottle of 
 the sour French wine ! ' 
 
 The bell in the private room rang at that 
 moment ; and the landlady's daughter, it is 
 needless to say, took the opportunity of form- 
 ing her own opinion of Mr. Hugh Mountjoy. 
 
 ' She returned with a letter in her hand, 
 consumed by a vain longing for the advan- 
 tages of gentle birth. ' Ah, mother, if I was 
 a young lady of the higher classes, I know 
 whose wife I should like to be ! ' Not par- 
 ticularly interested in sentimental aspirations. 
 
102 BLIND LOVE 
 
 the landlady asked to see Mr. Mountjoy's 
 letter. Tlie messenger who delivered it was 
 to wait for an answer. It Avas addressed to : 
 ' Miss Henley, care of Clarence Yimpany, 
 Esquire, Honey buzzard.' Urged by an excited 
 imagination, the daughter longed to see Miss 
 Henley. The mother was at a loss to under- 
 stand why Mr. Mountjoy should have troubled 
 himself to write the letter at all. ' If he knows 
 the young lady Avho is staying at the doctor's 
 house,' she said, ' why doesn't he call on Miss 
 Henley?' She handed the letter back to her 
 daughter. ' There ! let the ostler take it ; he's 
 fyot nothing; to do.' 
 
 'No, mother. The ostler's dirty hands 
 mustn't touch it — I'll take the letter myself. 
 Perhaps I may see Miss Henley.' Such was 
 the impression which Mr. Hugh Mountjoy had 
 innocently produced on a sensitive young 
 person, condemned by destiny to the barren 
 sphere of action all'orded by a country inn ! 
 
THE SOUR FRENCH WINE 103 
 
 The landlady lierself took tlie dinner up- 
 stairs — a first course of mutton cliops and 
 potatoes ; cooked to a degree of imperfection 
 only attained in an English kitchen. The sour 
 French wine was still on the good woman's 
 mind. 'What would you choose to drink, 
 sir?' slie asked. Mr. Mountjoy seemed to 
 feel no interest in what he might have to 
 drink. ' We have some French wine, sir.' 
 ' Thank you, ma'am ; that will do.' 
 When tlie bell rani? ao-ain, and the time 
 came to produce the second course of cheese 
 and celery, the landlady allowed the waiter to 
 take her place. Her experience of the farmers 
 who frequented the inn, and who had in some 
 few cases been induced to taste the wine, 
 warned her to anticipate an outbreak of just 
 anger from Mr. Mountjoy. He, like the 
 others, would probably ask what she ' meant 
 by poisoning him with such stuff as that ? ' On 
 the return of the waiter, she put the question : 
 
I04 BLIND LOVE 
 
 ' Did the gentleman complain of the French 
 wine ? ' 
 
 ' He wants to see you about it, ma'am/ 
 
 The landlady turned pale. The expression 
 of Mr. Mountjoy's indignation was evidently 
 reserved for the mistress of the house. ' Did 
 he swear,' she asked, ' when he tasted it ? ' 
 
 ' Lord bless you, ma'am, no ! Drank it out 
 of a tumbler, and — if you will believe me — 
 actually seemed to like it.' 
 
 The landlady recovered her colour. Grati- 
 tude to Providence for having sent a customer 
 to the inn, who could drink sour wine without 
 discovering it, was the uppermost feeling in 
 her ample bosom as she entered the private 
 room. Mr. Mountjoy justified her anticipa- 
 tions. He was simple enough — with his 
 tumbler before him, and the wine as it were 
 under his nose — to begin with an apology. 
 
 ' I am sorry to trouble you, ma'am. May 
 I ask where you got this wine ? ' 
 
■ THE SOUR FRENCH WINE 105 
 
 ' The wine, sir, was one of my late hus- 
 band's bad debts. It was all he could get 
 from a Frenchman who owed liim money.' 
 
 ' It's worth money, ma'am.' 
 
 ' Indeed, sir ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, indeed. This is some of tlie fmest 
 and purest claret that I have tasted for many 
 a long day past.' 
 
 An alarming suspicion disturbed the se- 
 renity of the landlady's mind. Was this ex- 
 traordinary opinion of the Avine sincere ? Or 
 was it Mr. Mountjoy's wicked design to entrap 
 her into praising her claret, and then to imply 
 that she was a cheat by declaring what lie 
 really thought of it ? She took refuge in a 
 cautious reply : 
 
 ' You are the first gentleman, sir, who has 
 not found fault with it.' 
 
 ' In that case, perhaps you would like to 
 get rid of the wine ? ' Mr. Mountjoy sug- 
 gested. 
 
io6 BLIND LOVE 
 
 Tlie landlady was still cautious. ' Who 
 will buy it of me, sir ? ' 
 
 ' I will. How mucli do you charge for it 
 by the bottle ? ' 
 
 It was, by this time, clear that lie was not 
 mischievous — only a little crazy. The, worldly- 
 wise hostess took advantage of that circum- 
 stance to double the price. Without hesita- 
 tion, she said : ' Five shillings a bottle, sir.' 
 
 Often, too often, the irony of circumstances 
 brings together, on this earthly scene, the 
 opposite types of vice and virtue. A lying 
 landlady and a guest incapable of deceit were 
 looking at each other across a narrow table ; 
 equally unconscious of the immeasurable moral 
 gulf that lay between them. Influenced by 
 honourable feeling, innocent Hugh Mountjoy 
 lashed the landlady's greed for money to the 
 full-gallop of human cupidity. 
 
 ' I don't think you are aware of the value 
 of your wine,' he said. 'I have claret in my 
 
THE SOLR FRENCH WIAE. 107 
 
 cellar wliicli is not so o-oocl as tliis, and wliicli 
 costs more than you have asked. It is only 
 fair to offer you seven-and-sixpence a bottle.' 
 
 Wlien an eccentric traveller is asked to 
 pay a price, and deliberately raises that price 
 against himself, where is the sensible woman 
 — especially if she happens to be a widow 
 conducting an unprofitable business — who 
 would hesitate to improve the opportunity ? 
 The greedy landlady raised her terms. 
 
 ' On reflection, sir, I think I ought to have 
 ten shillings a bottle, if you please.' 
 
 ' The wine may be worth it,' Mountjoy 
 answered quietly ; ' but it is more than I can 
 afford to pay. No, ma'am ; I will leave you 
 to find some lover of o-ood claret with a lono-er 
 purse than mine.' 
 
 It was in this man's character, when he said 
 Xo, to mean No. Mr. Mountjoy 's hostess per- 
 ceived that her crazy customer was not to be 
 trifled with. She lowered her terms a^'ain with 
 
io8 BLIND LOVE 
 
 tlie headlong hurry of terror. ' You shall have 
 it, sir, at your own price,' said this entirely 
 shameless and perfectly respectable woman. 
 
 The bargain having been closed under 
 these circumstances, the landlady's daughter 
 knocked at the door. 'I took your letter 
 myself, sir,' she said modestly ; ' and here is 
 the answer.' (She had seen Miss Henley, and 
 did not think much of her.) Mountjoy 
 offered the expression of his thanks, in words 
 never to be forgotten by a sensitive young 
 person, and opened his letter. It was short 
 enou<ih to be read in a moment ; but it was 
 evidently a favourable reply. He took his hat 
 in a hurry, and asked to be shown the way to 
 Mr. Vimpany's house. 
 
I09 
 
 CHAPTEE IE 
 
 THE MAN SHE REFUSED 
 
 OUNTJOY had 
 decided on 
 travelling to 
 H o n e y b u z- 
 zard, as soon 
 as he heard 
 that Miss Hen- 
 ley was staying 
 with strangers 
 in that town. 
 Having had no 
 earlier oj)por- 
 tnnity of pre- 
 paring her to 
 see him, he had 
 
no BLIND LOVE 
 
 considerately written to her from the inn, in 
 preference to presenting himself unexpectedly 
 at the doctor's house. How would slie re- 
 ceive the devoted friend, whose proposal of 
 marriage she had refused for the second time, 
 when they had last met in London ? 
 
 The doctor's place of residence, situated 
 in a solitary by-street, commanded a view, 
 not perhaps encouraging to a gentleman who 
 followed the medical profession : it was a 
 view of the churchyard. The door w^as 
 opened by a w^oman-servant, Avho looked sus- 
 piciously at the stranger. Without waiting to 
 be questioned, she said her master was out. 
 
 • Mountjoy mentioned his name, and asked 
 for Miss Henley. 
 
 ' The servant's manner altered at once for 
 the better ; she showed him into a small 
 drawing-room, scantily and cheaply furnished. 
 Some poorly- framed prints on the walls (a little 
 out of place, perhaps, in a doctor's house) 
 
Impulsively she dreiv his head dozvn. 
 
THE MAN SHE REEUSED m 
 
 represented portraits of famous actresses, ^vllo 
 had been queens of the stage in the early part 
 of the present centur3\ The few books, too, 
 collected on a little shelf above the chimney- 
 piece, were in every case specimens of dra- 
 matic literature. ' Who reads these plays P' 
 Mountjoy asked himself. ' And how did Iris 
 lind her way into this house ? ' 
 
 While he was thinking of her, Miss Henley 
 entered the room. 
 
 Her face was pale and careworn ; teai-s 
 dimmed her eyes when Mountjoy advanced to 
 meet ]]er. In his presence, the horror of his 
 brother's death by assassination sliook Iris as 
 it had not shaken her yet. Impulsively, she 
 drew his head down to her, with the fond 
 familiarity of a sister, and kissed his foreliead. 
 .'Oh, Hugh, I know how you and Arthur loved 
 each other ! Xo words of mhie can say how 
 I feel for 3'ou.' 
 
 ' Xo words are wanted, my dear,' he 
 
112 BLIND LOVE 
 
 answered tenderly. ' Your sympathy speaks 
 for itself.' 
 
 He led her to the sofa and seated himself 
 by her side. 'Your father has shown me 
 what you have written to him,' he resumed ; 
 ' your letter from Dublin and your second 
 letter from this place. I know what you 
 have so nobly risked and suffered in poor 
 Arthur's interests. It will be some consola- 
 tion to me if I can make a return — a very poor 
 return, Iris — for all that Arthur's brother owes 
 to the truest friend that ever man had. No,' 
 he continued, gently interrupting the expres- 
 sion of her gratitude. ' Your father has not 
 sent me here — but he knows that I have left 
 London for the express purpose of seeing j^ou, 
 and he knows why. You have written to him 
 dutifully and affectionately ; you have pleaded 
 for pardon and reconciliation, when he is to 
 blame. Shall I venture to tell you how he 
 answered me, when I asked if he had no faith 
 
IT^ 
 
 left in his own child ? " Hugh," he said, " you 
 are wasting words on a man whose mind is 
 made up. I will trust my daughter when 
 that Irisli lord is laid in his grave — not before." 
 That is a reflection on you, Iris, whicli I can- 
 not permit, even when your father casts it, 
 He is hard, he is unforgiving ; but he must, 
 and shall, be conquered yet. I mean to 
 make him do you justice ; I have come 
 liere with that purpose, and that purpose 
 only, in view. May I speak to you of Lord 
 Harry ? ' 
 
 ' How can you doubt it ? ' 
 
 ' My dear, tliis is a delicate subject for mc 
 to enter on.' 
 
 * And a shameful subject for Me!' Iris 
 broke out bitterly. ' Hugh ! you are an 
 angel, by comparison with that man — how 
 debased I must be to love him— how unworthy 
 of your good opinion ! Ask me anything you 
 like; have no mercy on me. Oli,' she cried, 
 
 VOL. I. I 
 
114 BLIND LOVE 
 
 with reckless contempt for herself, ' why don't 
 you beat me ? I deserve it ! ' 
 
 Mouiitjoy was well enough acquainted 
 with the natures of women to pass over 
 that passionate outbreak, instead of fanning 
 the flame in her by reasoning and remon- 
 strance. 
 
 ' Your father will not listen to the ex- 
 pression of feeling,' he continued ; ' but it is 
 possible to rouse his sense of justice by the 
 expression of facts. Help me to speak to 
 him more plainly of Lord Harry than you 
 could speak in your letters. I want to know 
 what has happened, from the time when 
 events at Ardoon brought you and the young 
 lord together again, to the time when you 
 left him in Ireland after my brother's death. 
 If I seem to expect too much of you. Iris, 
 pray remember that I am speaking with a 
 true regard for your interests.' 
 
 In those words, he made his o'enerous 
 
THE MAN SHE REFUSED 115 
 
 appeal to her. She proved herself to be 
 worthy of it. 
 
 Stated briefly, the retrospect began with 
 the mysterious anonymous letters whicli had 
 been addressed to Sir Giles. 
 
 Lord Harry's explanation had been offered 
 to Iris gratefully, but with some reserve, after 
 she had told him who the stranger at the 
 milestone really was. 'I entreat you to par- 
 don me, if I shrink from entering into parti- 
 culars,' he had said. ' Circumstances, at the 
 time, amply justified me in the attempt to use 
 the banker's political influence as a means of 
 securing Arthur's safety. I knew enough of 
 Sir Giles's mean nature to be careful in trust- 
 ing him ; but I did hope to try what my per- 
 sonal influence might do. If he had possessed 
 a tenth part of your courage, Arthur miglit 
 have been alive, and safe in England, at this 
 moment. I can't say any more ; I daren't 
 
 I '1 
 
ii6 BLIND LOVE 
 
 say any more ; it maddens me when I think 
 of it ! ' He abruptly changed tlie subject, 
 and interested Lis by speaking of otlier 
 and later events. Ilis association with the 
 Invincibles — inexcusably rash and wicked as 
 he himself confessed it to be — had enabled him 
 to penetrate, and for a time to defeat secretly 
 the murderous designs of the brotherhood. 
 His appearances, first at the farmhouse and 
 afterwards at the ruin in tlie wood, were 
 referable to changes in the plans of the 
 assassins which had come to his knowledge. 
 When Iris had met with him he was ou the 
 watch, beUeving that his friend w^ould take 
 the short way back through the wood, and 
 well aware that -his own life might pay the 
 penalty if he succeeded in warning Arthur. 
 After the terrible discovery of the murder 
 (committed on the high road), and the escape of 
 the miscreant who had been guilty of the crime, 
 the parting of Lord Harry and Miss Henley 
 
THE MAN SHE REFUSED 117 
 
 had been the next event. She had left hiin, 
 on her return to England, and had refused to 
 consent to any of the future meetings between 
 them which he besought her to grant. 
 
 At this stage in the narrative, Mountjoy 
 felt compelled to ask questions more search- 
 ing than he had put to Iris yet. It was pos- 
 sible that she might be trusting her own 
 impressions of Lord Harry, with the ill- 
 placed confidence of a woman innocently 
 8 elf- deceived. 
 
 ' Did he submit willingly to your leaving 
 him ? ' Mountjoy said. 
 
 ' Not at first,' she replied. 
 
 'Has he released you from that rash engage- 
 ment, of some years since, which pledged you 
 to marry him ? ' 
 
 'No.' 
 
 ' Did he allude to the engagement, on this 
 occasion?' 
 
ii8 BLIND LOVE 
 
 ' He said he held to it as the one hope of 
 hisHfe.' 
 
 ' And what did you say ? ' 
 
 ' I implored him not to distress me.' 
 
 ' Did you say nothing more positive than 
 that ? ' 
 
 ' I couldn't help thinking, Hugh, of all 
 that he had tried to do to save Arthur. But 
 I insisted on leaving him — and I have left 
 him.' 
 
 ' Do you remember what he said at part- 
 ing?' 
 
 ' He said, " "While I live, I love you." ' 
 
 As she repeated the words, there was an 
 involuntary change to tenderness in her voice 
 which was not lost on Mountjoy. 
 
 ' I must be sure,' he said to her gravely, 
 ' of what I tell your father when I go back to 
 him. Can I declare, with a safe conscience, 
 that you will never see Lord Harry again ? ' 
 
 'My mind is made up never to see him 
 
THE MAN SHE REFUSED 119 
 
 again.' She had answered firmly so far. Her 
 next words were spoken with hesitation, in 
 tones that faltered. ' But I am sometimes 
 afraid,' slie said, ' that the decision may not 
 rest with me.' 
 
 ' What do you mean ? ' 
 ' I would rather not tell you.' 
 ' That is a strange answer, Iris.' 
 ' I value your good opinion, Hugh ; and 1 
 am afraid of losing it.' 
 
 * Nothing has ever altered my opinion of 
 you,' he replied ; ' and nothing ever will.' 
 
 She looked at him anxiously, with the 
 closest attention. Little by little, the expres- 
 sion of doubt in her face disappeared ; she 
 knew how he loved her — she resolved to 
 trust him. 
 
 ' My friend,' she began abruptly, ' educa- 
 tion has done nothing for me. Since I left 
 Ireland, I have sunk (I don't know liow or 
 why) into a state of superstitious fear. Yes ! 
 
I20 BLIND LOVE 
 
 I believe in a fatality which is leading me 
 back to Lord Harry, in spite of myself. Twice 
 already, since I left home, I have met with 
 him ; and eacli time I have been the means of 
 saving him — once at the milestone, and once 
 at the ruin in the wood. If my father still 
 accuses me of being in love with an adven- 
 turer, you can say with perfect truth that I 
 am afraid of him. I am afraid of the third 
 meeting. I have done my best to escape from 
 that man ; and step by step, as I think I am 
 getting away, Destiny is taking me back to 
 him. I may be on my way to him here, 
 hidden in this wretched little town. Oh, 
 don't despise me ! Don't be ashamed of 
 me ! ' 
 
 ' My dear, I am interested — deeply inter- 
 ested in you. That there may be some such 
 influence as Destiny in our poor mortal lives 
 I dare not deny. But I don't agree with your 
 conclusion. What Destiny is to do with you 
 
THE MAN SHE REFUSED 121 
 
 and with me, neither you nor I can pretend 
 to know beforehand. In the presence of that 
 great mystery, humanity must submit to be 
 ignorant. Wait, Iris — wait ! ' 
 
 She answered him with the simplicity of a 
 docile child: ' I will do anything you tell me.' 
 
 Mountjoy was too fond of her to say more 
 of Lord Harry, for that day. He was careful 
 to lead tlie talk to a topic which might be 
 trusted to provoke no agitating thoughts. 
 Finding Iris to all appearance established in 
 the doctor's house, he was naturally anxious 
 to know something of the person who must 
 have invited her — the doctor's wife. 
 
122 BLIND LOVE 
 
 CHAPTEK III 
 
 THE REGISTERED PACKET 
 
 OUNTJGY bei^an bv alkidino' to tlie 
 second of Miss Henley's letters to 
 her father, and to a passage in it 
 wliich mentioned Mrs. Yimpany with expres- 
 sions of the sincerest gratitude. 
 
 'I should like to know more,' he said, 
 ' of a lady whose hospitality at home seems to 
 equal her kindness as a fellow-traveller. Did 
 you first meet with her on the railway P ' 
 
 ' She travelled by the same train to Dublin, 
 with me and my maid, but not in the same 
 carriage,' Iris answered ; ' I was so fortunate 
 as to meet with lier on tlie voyage from 
 Dubhn to Holyhead. We had a rough 
 
THE REGISTERED PACKET 123 
 
 crossing ; and Elioda suffered so dreadfully 
 from sea-sickness that she frightened me. 
 The stewardess was attending to ladies who 
 were calling for her in all directions ; I really 
 don't know what misfortune miglit not have 
 happened, if Mrs. Vimpany had not come 
 forward in the kindest manner, and offered 
 help. She knew so wonderfully well what 
 was to be done, that she astonished me. " I 
 am the wife of a doctor," she said ; " and I am 
 only imitating what I have seen my husband 
 do, when his assistance has been required, at 
 sea, in weather like this." In her poor state 
 of health, Ehoda was too much exhausted to 
 go on by tlie train, when we got to Holyhead. 
 She is the best of good girls, and I am fond 
 of her, as you know. If I had been by myself, 
 I dare say I should have sent for medical help. 
 What do you think dear Mrs. Yimpany offered 
 to do? "Your maid is only faint," she said. 
 " Give her rest and some iced wine, and she will 
 
124 BLIND LOVE 
 
 be well enough to go on by the slow train. 
 Don't be frightened about her ; I will wait 
 with you." And she did wait. Are there 
 many strangers, Hugh, who are as unselfishly 
 good to others as my chance-acquaintance in 
 the steam-boat ? ' 
 
 ' Very few, I am afraid.' 
 
 Mountjoy made that reply with some little 
 embarrassir nt ; conscious of a doubt of 
 Mrs. Yimpany's disinterested kindness, which 
 seemed to be unworthy of a just man. 
 
 Iris went on. 
 
 'Elioda was sufficiently recovered,' she 
 said, ' to travel by the next train, and there 
 seemed to be no reason for feeling any more 
 anxiety. But, after a time, the fatigue of 
 the journey proved to be too much for her. 
 The poor girl turned pale — and fainted. Mrs. 
 Vimpany revived her, but, as it turned out, 
 only for a while. She fell into another faint- 
 ing fit; and my travening-companion began 
 
THE REGISTERED PACKET 125 
 
 to look anxious. There was some difficulty 
 in restorin<j^ Elioda to lier senses. In dread 
 of another attack, I determined to stop at the 
 next station. It looked such a poor place, 
 when we got to it, that I hesitated. Mrs. 
 Yimpany persuaded me to go on. The next 
 station, she said, was lier station. " Stop 
 there," she suggested, " and let my husband 
 look at the girl. I ought not perhaps to say 
 it, but you will find no better medical man 
 out of London." I took the good creature's 
 advice gratefully. What else could I do ? ' 
 
 ' What would you have done,' Mountjoy 
 inquired, ' if Ehoda had been strong enough 
 to get to the end of the journey ? ' 
 
 ' I should have gone on to London, and 
 taken refuge in a lodging — you were in town, 
 as I believed, and my father might relent in 
 time. As it was, I felt my lonely position 
 keenly. To meet with kind people, like Mr. 
 Yimpany and his wife, was a real blessing to 
 
126 BUND LOVE 
 
 siicli a friendless creature as I am — to say 
 nothing of the advantage to Ehoda, who is 
 getting better every day. I sliould hke you 
 to see Mrs. Yimpany, if she is at liome. She 
 is a httle formal and old-fashioned in her 
 manner — but I am sure you will be pleased 
 with her. Ah! you look round the room'! 
 Tliey are poor, miserably poor for persons in 
 their position, these worthy friends of mine. 
 I have had the greatest difficulty in persuading 
 them to let me contribute my share towards 
 the household expenses. They only yielded 
 when I threatened to go to the inn. You are 
 looking very serious, Hugh. Is it possible 
 that you see some objection to my staying in 
 this house ? ' 
 
 The drawing-room door was softly opened, 
 at the moment when Iris put that question. 
 A lady appeared on the threshold. Seeing 
 the stranger, she turned to Iris. 
 
THE REGISTERED PACKET 127 
 
 ' I didn't know, dear Miss Henley, that you 
 had a visitor. Pray pardon my intrusion.' 
 
 The voice was deep ; the articulation was 
 clear ; the smile presented a certain modest 
 dignity which gave it a value of its own. 
 This was a woman who could make such 
 a commonplace thing as an apology worth 
 listening to. Iris stopped her as she was 
 about to leave the room. ' I was just wishing 
 for you,' she said. ' Let me introduce my old 
 friend, Mr. Mountjoy. Hugh, this is the lady 
 who has been so kind to me; — Mrs. Yimpany.' 
 
 Hugh's impulse, under the circumstances, 
 was to dispense with the formahty of a bow, 
 . and to shake hands. Mrs. Yimpany met this 
 friendly advance with a suavity of action not 
 often seen in these days of movement without 
 ceremony. She was a tali shm woman, of a 
 .certain age. Art had so cleverly improved 
 lier complexion that it almost looked like 
 
128 BLIND LOVE 
 
 nature. Her clieeks had lost the pkimpness 
 of youth, but her hak (thanks agam perhaps 
 to Art) showed no signs of turning grey. The 
 expression of her large dark eyes — placed 
 perhaps a little too near to her high aquiline 
 nose — claimed admiration from any person 
 who was so fortunate as to come within their 
 range of view. Her hands, long, yellow, and 
 pitiably thin, were used with a grace which 
 checked to some extent tlieir cruel betrayal 
 of her age. Her dress had seen better days, 
 but it was worn with an air wliicli forbade it 
 to look actually shabby. The faded lace that 
 encircled her neck fell in scanty folds over her 
 bosom. She sank into a chair by Hugh's 
 side. ' It was a great pleasure to me, Mr. 
 Mountjoy, to offer my poor services to Miss 
 Henley ; I can't tell you how happy her 
 presence makes me in our little house.' The 
 compliment was addressed to Iris with every 
 advantage that smiles and tones could offer. 
 
THE REGISTERED PACKET 129 
 
 Oddly artificial as it undoubtedly was, Mrs. 
 Yimpany's manner produced nevertheless an 
 agreeable impression. Disposed to doubt her 
 at first, Mountjoy found tliat she was winning 
 her way to a favourable change in his opinion. 
 She so far interested him, that he began to 
 wonder what lier early life might have been, 
 when she was young and handsome. He 
 looked again at the portraits of actresses on 
 the walls, and the plays on the bookshelf — 
 and then (when she was speaking to Iris) he 
 stole a sly glance at the doctor's wife. Was 
 it possible that this remarkable woman had 
 once been an actress? He attempted to put the 
 value of that guess to the test by means of a 
 complimentary allusion to the prints. 
 
 ' My memory as a play-goer doesn^t 
 extend over many years,' he began ; ' but I 
 can appreciate the historical interest of your 
 beautiful prints.' Mrs. Vimpany bowed grace- 
 fully — and dumbly. Mountjoy tried again. 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
I30 BLIND LOVE 
 
 ' One doesn't often see the famous actresses of 
 past days,' lie proceeded, ' so well represented 
 on the Avails of an English house.' 
 
 This time, he had spoken to better 
 purpose. Mrs. Yimpany answered him in 
 words. 
 
 ' I have many pleasant associations with 
 the theatre,' she said, 'first formed in the time 
 of my girlhood.' 
 
 Mountjoy waited to hear something more. 
 Nothing more was said. Perhaps this reticent 
 lady disliked looking back through a long 
 interval of years, or perhaps she had her 
 reasons for leaving Mountjoy's guess at the 
 truth still lost in doubt. In either case, she 
 deliberately dropped the subject. Iris took 
 it up. Sitting by the only table in the room, 
 she was in a position which placed her exactly 
 opposite to one of the prints — the magnificent 
 portrait of Mrs. Siddons as The Tragic Muse. 
 
 ' I wonder if Mrs. Siddons was really as 
 
THE REGISTERED PACKET 131 
 
 beautiful as that P ' she said, pointing to the 
 print. ' Sir Joshua Eeynolds is reported to 
 have sometimes flattered his sitters.' 
 
 Mrs. Yimpany's solemn self-possessed eyes 
 suddenly brightened ; the name of tlie great 
 actress seemed to interest her. On the point, 
 apparently, of speaking, she dropped the 
 subject of Mrs. Siddons as she had dropped 
 the subject of the theatre. Mountjoy was 
 left to answer Iris. 
 
 ' We are none of us old enough,' he 
 reminded her, * to decide whether Sir Joshua's 
 brush has been guilty of flattery or not.' 
 He turned to Mrs. Yimpany, and attempted to 
 look into her life from a new point of view. 
 'When Miss Henley was so fortunate as to 
 make your acquaintance,' he said, ' you were 
 travelHng in Ireland. Was it your first visit 
 to that unhappy country? ' 
 
 ' I have been more than once in Ireland.' 
 
 Having again deliberately disappointed 
 
 ^2 
 
132 BLIND LOVE 
 
 Mountjoy, she was assisted in keeping clear 
 of the subject of Ireland by a fortunate inter- 
 ruption. It was the hour of delivery by the 
 afternoon-post. The servant came in with a 
 small sealed packet, and a slip of printed 
 paper in her hand. 
 
 'It's registered, ma'am,' the woman an- 
 nounced. ' The postman says you are to 
 please sign this. And he seems to be in a 
 hurry.' 
 
 She placed the packet and the slip of 
 paper on the table, near the inkstand. 
 Having signed the receipt, Mrs. Yimpany took 
 up the packet, and examined the address. 
 She instantly looked at Iris, and looked away 
 again. ' Will you excuse me for a moment ? ' 
 Saying this she left the room, without opening 
 the packet. 
 
 The moment the door closed on her, Iris 
 started up, and hurried to Mountjoy. 
 
 Oh, Hugh,' she said, ' I saw the address on 
 
THE REGISTERED PACKET 
 
 m 
 
 that packet when the servant put it on the 
 table ! ' 
 
 ' My dear, what is there to excite you in 
 the address ? ' 
 
 ' Don't speak so loud ! She may be listen- 
 ing outside the door.' 
 
 Not only the words, but the tone in which 
 they were spoken, amazed Mountjoy. 'Your 
 friend, Mrs. Yimpany ! ' he exclaimed. 
 
 'Mrs. Yimpany was afraid to open the 
 packet in our presence,' Iris went on : ' you 
 must have seen that. The handwriting is 
 familiar to me ; I am certain of the person 
 who wrote the address.' 
 
 ' Well .^ And who is the person ? ' 
 
 She whispered in his ear : 
 
 ' Lord Harry.' 
 
134 
 
 BUND LOVE 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE GAME : MOUNTJOY LOSES 
 
 \ 
 
 -=^r^URPEISE si- 
 lenced Hugh 
 for the mo- 
 ment. Iris un- 
 derstood the 
 look that he 
 fixed on her, 
 and answered 
 it. 'I am quite 
 sure,' she told 
 him, ' of what 
 I say.' 
 
 ^-_^ ? 5 "'^'^ Mountj oy's 
 
 well-balanced mind hesitated at rushing to a 
 conclusion. 
 
THE GAME: MOUNTJOY LOSES 135 
 
 ' I am sure you are convinced of what 
 you tell me,' he said. ' But mistakes do 
 sometimes lia]3pen in forming a judgment of 
 handwriting.' 
 
 In the state of excitement that now 
 possessed her, Iris was easily irritated ; she 
 was angry with Hugh for only supposing that 
 she might have made a mistake. He had 
 himself, as she reminded him, seen Lord 
 Harry's handwriting in past days. Was it 
 possible to be mistaken in those bold thickly- 
 written characters, with some of the letters so 
 quaintly formed ? 'Oh, Hugh, I am miserable 
 enough as it is,' she broke out ; ' don't dis- 
 tract me by disputing what I know ! Think 
 of a woman so kind, so disinterested, so 
 charming — the very opposite of a false crea- 
 ture — think of Mrs. Yimpany having deceived 
 me ! ' 
 
 There was not the slightest reason, thus 
 far, for placing that interpretation on what 
 
136 BLIND LOVE 
 
 had happened. Mountjoy gently, very gently, 
 remonstrated. 
 
 ' My dear, we really don't know yet that 
 Mrs. Vimpany has been acting under Lord 
 Harry's instructions. Wait a little before you 
 suspect your fellow-traveller of offering her 
 services for the purpose of deceiving you.' 
 
 Iris was angry with him again : ' Wliy 
 did Mrs. Vimpany never tell me she knew 
 Lord Harry ? Isn't that suspicious ? ' 
 
 Mountjoy smiled. ' Let me put a question 
 on my side,' he said. 'Did you tell Mrs. 
 Vimpany you knew Lord Harry ? ' Iris made 
 no reply ; her face spoke for her. ' Well, 
 then,' he urged, ' is your silence suspicious ? 
 I am far, mind, from saying that this may 
 not be a very unpleasant discovery. Only 
 let us be sure first that we are right.' 
 
 With most of a woman's merits. Miss 
 Henley had many of a woman's faults. Still 
 holding to her own conclusion, she asked how 
 
THE GAME: MOUNTJOY LOSES 137 
 
 they could expect to be sure of anything if 
 they addressed their inquiries to a person who 
 had already deceived them. 
 
 Mountjoy's inexhaustible indulgence still 
 made allowances for her. ' When Mrs. Yim- 
 pany comes back,' he said, ' I will find an 
 opportunity of mentioning Lord Harry's name. 
 If she tells us that she knows him, there will 
 be good reason in that one circumstance, 
 as it seems to me, for continuing to trust 
 her.' 
 
 'Suppose she shams ignorance,' Iris per- 
 sisted, ' and looks as if she had never heard 
 of his name before ? ' 
 
 ' In that case, I shall own that I was 
 wrong, and shall ask you to forgive me.' 
 
 The finer and better nature of Iris 
 recovered its influence at these words. ' It 
 is I who ought to beg pardon,' she said. ' Oh, 
 I" w^ish I could think before I speak ; how 
 insolent and ill-tempered I have been ! But 
 
138 BLIND LOVE 
 
 suppose I turn out to be right, Hugh, what 
 will you do then ? ' 
 
 ' Then, my dear, it will be my duty to 
 take you and your maid away from this 
 house, and to tell your father what serious 
 
 reasons there are ' He abruptly checked 
 
 himself. Mrs. Yimpany had returned ; she 
 was in perfect possession of her lofty cour- 
 tesy, sweetened by the modest dignity of 
 her smile. 
 
 ' I have left you, Miss Henley, in such good 
 company,' she said, with a gracious inclina- 
 tion of her head in the direction of Mountjoy, 
 ' that I need hardly repeat my apologies — 
 unless, indeed, I am interrupting a confidential 
 conversation.' 
 
 It was possible that Iris might have 
 betrayed herself, when the doctor's wife had 
 looked at her after examining the address on 
 the packet. In this case Mrs. Vimpany's 
 allusion to ' a confidential conversation' would 
 
THE GAME: MOUNTJOY LOSES 139 
 
 have operated as a warning to a person of 
 experience in the by-ways of deceit. Mount- 
 joy's utmost exertion of cunning was not 
 capable of protecting him on such conditions 
 as these. The opportunity of trying his 
 proposed experiment with Lord Harry's name 
 seemed to have presented itself already. He 
 rashly seized on it. 
 
 'You have interrupted nothing that was 
 confidential,' he hastened to assure Mrs. 
 Yimpany. ' We have been speaking of a 
 reckless young gentleman, who is an ac- 
 quaintance of ours. If what I hear is true, 
 he has already become public property ; his 
 adventures have found their way into some of 
 the newspapers.' 
 
 Here, if Mrs. Yimpany had answered 
 Hugh's expectations, she ought to have asked 
 who the young gentleman was. She merely 
 listened in polite silence. 
 
 With a woman's quickness of perception, 
 
I40 BUND LOVE 
 
 Iris saw that Mountjoy had not only pounced 
 on his opportunity preinaturely, but had 
 spoken with a downright directness of aUu- 
 sion which must at once have put such a 
 ready-witted person as Mrs. Yimpany on her 
 guard. In trying to prevent him from pur- 
 suing his unfortunate experiment in social 
 diplomacy, Iris innocently repeated Mount- 
 joy's own mistake. She, too, seized her 
 opportunity prematurely. That is to say, she 
 was rash enough to change the subject. 
 
 ' You were talking just now, Hugh, of our 
 friend's adventures,' she said ; ' I am afraid 
 you will find yourself involved in an adven- 
 ture of no very agreeable kind, if you engage 
 a bed at the inn. I never saw a more 
 wretched -looking place.' 
 
 It was one of Mrs. Yimpany 's many merits 
 that she seldom neglected an opportunity of 
 setting her friends at their ease. 
 
 ' No, no, dear Miss Henley,' she hastened 
 
THE GAME: MOUNTJOY LOSES 141 
 
 to say ; ' tlie inn is really a more clean and 
 comfortable place than you suppose. A hard 
 bed and a scarcity of furniture are tlie worst 
 evils which your friend has to fear. Do you 
 know,' she continued, addressing herself to 
 Mountjoy, ' that I was reminded of a friend of 
 mine," when you spoke just now of the young 
 gentleman whose adventures are in the news- 
 papers. Is it possible that you referred to 
 the brother of the present Earl of Norland ? 
 A handsome young Irishman — with whom 
 I first became acquainted many years since. 
 Am I right in supposing that you and Miss 
 Henley know Lord Harry ? ' she asked. 
 
 What more than this could an unpre- 
 judiced mind require ? Mrs. Yimpany had 
 set herself right with a simplicity that defied 
 suspicion. Iris looked at Mountjoy. He 
 appeared to know when he was beaten. 
 Having acknowledged that Lord Harry was 
 the young gentleman of whom he and Miss 
 
142 BLIND LOVE 
 
 Henley had been speaking, lie rose to take 
 leave. 
 
 After what had passed, Iris felt the neces- 
 sity of speaking privately to Hugh. The 
 necessary excuse presented itself in the 
 remote situation of the inn. ' You will never 
 find your way back,' she said, ' through the 
 labyrinth of crooked streets in this old town. 
 Wait for me a minute, and I will be your 
 guide.' 
 
 Mrs. Vimpany protested. ' My dear ! let 
 the servant show the way.' 
 
 Iris held gaily to her resolution, and ran 
 away to her room. Mrs. Vimpany yielded 
 with her best grace. Miss Henley's motive 
 could hardly have been plainer to her, if Miss 
 Henley had confessed it herself. ' What a 
 charming girl ! ' the doctor's amiable wife 
 said to Mountjoy, when they were alone. ' If 
 I were a man, Miss Iris is just the young lady 
 that I should fall in love with.' She looked 
 
THE GAME: MOUNTJOY LOSES 143 
 
 significantly at Mountjoy. Nothing came of 
 it. She went on : ' Miss Henley mnst have 
 had many opportunities of being married ; 
 but the right man has, I fear, not yet pre- 
 sented himself.' Once more her eloquent 
 eyes consulted Mountjoy, and once more 
 nothing came of it. Some women are easily 
 discouraged. Impenetrable Mrs. Vimpany 
 was one of the other women ; she had not 
 done with Mountjoy yet — she invited him to 
 dinner on the next day. 
 
 'Our early hour is three o'clock,' she 
 said modestly. ' Pray join us. I hope 
 to have the pleasure of introducing my 
 husband.' 
 
 Mountjoy had his reasons for wishing to 
 see the husband. As he accepted the invi- 
 tation. Miss Henley returned to accompany 
 him to the inn. 
 
 Iris put the inevitable question to Hugh 
 as soon as they were out of the doctor's house 
 
144 BUND LOVE 
 
 — ' What do you say of Mrs. Yimpany, 
 now ? ' 
 
 ' I say that she must Jiave been once an 
 actress,' Mount] oy answered ; ' and tliat she 
 carries her experience of the stage into private 
 hfe.' 
 
 ' What do you propose to do next ? ' 
 
 ' I propose to wait and see Mrs. Vimpany's 
 husband to-morrow.' 
 
 'Why?' 
 
 ' Mrs. Yimpany, my dear, is too clever for 
 me. If— observe, please, that I do her the 
 justice of putting it in that way — if she is 
 really Lord Harry's creature, employed to keep 
 watch on you, and to inform him of your next 
 place of residence in England, I own that she 
 has completely deceived me. In that case it 
 is just possible that the husband is not such a 
 fmished and perfect humbug as the wife. I 
 may be able to see through him. I can but 
 try.' 
 
THE GAME : MOUNTJOY LOSES 145 
 
 Iris sighed. ' I almost hope 3^011 may not 
 succeed,' she said. 
 
 Mountjoy was puzzled and made no 
 attempt to conceal it. 
 
 ' I thought you only wanted to get at the 
 truth,' he answered. 
 
 'My mind might be easier, perhaps, if I 
 was left in doubt,' she suggested. ' A perverse 
 way of thinking has set up my poor opinion 
 against yours. But I am getting back to my 
 better sense. I believe you were entirely right 
 when you tried to prevent me from rushing to 
 conclusions ; it is more than likely that I have 
 done Mrs. Yimpany an injustice. Oh, Hugh, 
 I ought to keep a friend — I who have so few 
 friends — when I have got one ! And there 
 is another feeling in me which I must not 
 conceal from you. When I remember Lord 
 Harry's noble conduct in trying to save poor 
 Arthur, I cannot believe him capable of such 
 hateful deceit as consenting to our separation, 
 
 VOL. I. L 
 
146 BLIND LOVE 
 
 and then having me secretly watched by a 
 spy. What monstrous inconsistency ! Can 
 anybody beheve it ? Can anybody account 
 for it?' 
 
 ' I think I can account for it, Iris, if you 
 will let me make the attempt. You are mis- 
 taken, to begin with.' 
 
 ' How am I mistaken ? ' 
 
 ' You shall see. There is no such creature 
 as a perfectly consistent human being on the 
 face of the earth — and, strange as it may seem 
 to you, the human beings themselves are not 
 aware of it. The reason for this curious state 
 of things is not far to seek. How can people 
 who are ignorant — as we see every day — of 
 their own characters be capable of correctly 
 estimating the characters of others? Even 
 the influence of their rehgion fails to open 
 their eyes to the truth. In tlie Prayer which 
 is the most precious possession of Christendom 
 their lips repeat the entreaty that they may 
 
THE GAME: MOUNTJOY LOSES 1^7 
 
 not be led into temptation — but their minds 
 fail to draw the inference. If that pathetic peti- 
 tion means anything, it means that virtuous men 
 and women are capable of becoming vicious 
 men and women, if a powerful temptation puts 
 them to the test. Every Sunday, devout 
 members of the congregation in church — 
 models of excellence in their own estimation, 
 and in the estimation of their neighbours — 
 declare that they have done those things which 
 they ought not to have done, and that there 
 is no health in them. Will you believe that 
 they are encouraged by their Prayer-books to 
 present this sad exposure of the frailty of their 
 own admirable characters ? How inconsistent 
 — and yet how entirely true ! Lord Harry, 
 as you rightly say, behaved nobly in trying to 
 save my dear lost brother. He ought, as you 
 think, and as other people think, to be consis- 
 tently noble, after that, in all his thoughts and 
 actions, to the end of his life. Suppose that 
 
148 BLIND LOVE 
 
 temptation does try him — such temptation, 
 Iris, as you innocently present — why doesn't 
 he offer a superhuman resistance ? You 
 might as well ask. Why is he a mortal man ? 
 How inconsistent, how improbable, that he 
 should have tendencies to evil in him, as well 
 as tendencies to good ! Ah, I see you don't 
 like this. It would be infinitely more agree- 
 able (wouldn't it ?) if Lord Harry was one of 
 the entirely consistent characters, which are 
 sometimes presented in works of fiction. Our 
 good English readers are charmed with the 
 man, the woman, or the child, who is intro- 
 duced to them by the kind novelist as a 
 being without faults. Do they stop to con- 
 sider whether this is a true picture of human- 
 ity ? It would be a terrible day for the book, 
 if they ever did that. But the book is in no 
 danger. The readers would even fail to dis- 
 cover the falseness of the picture, if they were 
 presented to themselves as perfect characters. 
 
THE GAME: MOUNTJOY LOSES 149 
 
 " We mustn't say so, but liow wonderfully like 
 us ! " There would be the only impression 
 produced. I am not trying to dishearten you ; 
 I want to encourage you to look at humanity 
 from a wider and truer point of view. • Do 
 not be too readily depressed, if you fmd your 
 faith shaken in a person whom you have 
 hitherto believed to be good. That person 
 has been led into temptation. Wait till time 
 shows you that the evil influence is not ever- 
 lasting, and that the good influence will in- 
 consistently renew your faith, out of the 
 very depths of your despair. Humanity, in 
 general, is neither perfectly good nor perfectly 
 wicked : take it as you find it. Is this a hard 
 lesson to learn ? Well ! it's easy to do what 
 other people do under similar circumstances. 
 Listen to the unwelcome truth to-day, my 
 dear ; and forget it to-morrow.' 
 
 They parted at the door of the inn. 
 
50 BLIND LOVE 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE game: MOUNTJOY PLAYS A NEW CARD 
 
 ^E. YIMPANY (of the College of Sur- 
 geons) was a burly man, heavily 
 built from head to foot. His bold 
 round eyes looked straight at his fellow-crea- 
 tures with an expression of impudent good 
 humour ; his whiskers were bushy, his hands 
 were big, his lips were thick, his legs were 
 solid. Add to this a broad sunburnt face, 
 and a grey coat with wide tails, a waistcoat 
 with a check pattern, and leather riding- 
 gaiters — and no stranger could have failed to 
 mistake Mr. Yimpany for a farmer of the old 
 school. He was proud of the false impression 
 that he created. 'Nature built me to be a 
 
mount; OY PLAYS A NEW CARD 151 
 
 farmer,' he used to say. ' But my poor foolish 
 old mother was a lady by birth, and she in- 
 sisted on her son being a professional man. I 
 hadn't brains for the Law, or money for the 
 Army, or morals for the Church. And here I 
 am a country doctor — the one representative 
 of slavery left in the nineteenth century. You 
 may not believe me, but T never see a 
 labourer at the plough that I don't envy 
 him.' 
 
 This was the husband of the elegant lady 
 with the elaborate manners. This was the 
 man who received Mountjoy with a ' Glad to 
 see you, sir,' and a shake of the hand that 
 hurt him. 
 
 ' Coarse fare,' said Mr. Vimpany, carving 
 a big joint of beef; 'but I can't afford any- 
 thing better. Only a pudding to follow, and 
 a glass of glorious old sherry. Miss Henley 
 is good enough to excuse it — and my wife's 
 used to it — and you will put up with it, 
 
152 BLIND LOVE 
 
 Mr. Mount] oy, if you are half as amiable as 
 you look. I'm an old-fashioned man. The 
 pleasure of a glass of wine with you, sir.' 
 
 Hugh's first experience of the ' glorious 
 old sherry ' led him to a discovery, which 
 proved to be more important than he was 
 disposed to consider it at the moment. He 
 merely observed, with some amusement, that 
 Mr. Yimpany smacked liis lips in hearty a]3- 
 proval of the worst sherry that his guest had 
 ever tasted. Here, plainly self-betrayed, Avas 
 a medical man who was an exception to a 
 general rule in the profession — here was a 
 doctor ignorant of the difference between good 
 wine and bad ! 
 
 Both the ladies were anxious to know how 
 Mountjoy had passed the night at the inn. 
 He had only time to say that there was 
 nothing to complain of, when Mr. Yimpany 
 burst into an explosion of laughter. 
 
 ' Oh, but you must have had something to 
 
MOUNTJOV PLAYS A NEW CARD 153 
 
 complain of ! ' said the big doctor. ' I would 
 bet a hundred, if I could afford it, that the 
 landlady tried to poison you with her sour 
 French wine.' 
 
 ' Do you speak of the claret at the inn, 
 after having tasted it?' Mountjoy asked. 
 
 ' What do you take me for ? ' cried Mr. 
 Vimpany. 'After all I have heard of that 
 claret, I am not fool enough to try it myself, 
 I can tell you.' Mountjoy received this 
 answer in silence. The doctor's ignorance 
 and tlie doctor's prejudice, in the matter of 
 wine, had started a new train of thought in 
 Hugh's mind, which threatened serious conse- 
 quences to Mr. Vimpany himself. There was 
 a pause at the table ; nobody spoke. The 
 doctor saw condemnation of his rudeness ex- 
 pressed in his wife's face. He made a rough 
 apology to Mountjoy, who was still pre- 
 occupied. 'No offence, I hope? It's in the 
 nature of me, sir, to speak my mind. If I 
 
154 BLIND LOVE 
 
 could fawn and flatter, I should have got on 
 better in my profession. I'm what they call 
 a rough diamond. No offence, I say ? ' 
 
 ' None whatever, Mr. Vimpany.' 
 
 ' That's right ! Try another glass of 
 sherry.' 
 
 Mountjoy took the sherry. 
 
 Iris looked at him, lost in surprise. It 
 was unlike Hugh to be interested in a 
 stranger's opinion of wine. It was unlike 
 him to drink wine which was evidently not 
 to his taste. And it was especially unlike his 
 customary courtesy to let himself fall into 
 thought at dinner-time, when there were other 
 persons at the table. Was he ill ? Impossible 
 to look at him, and not see that he was in 
 perfect health. What did it mean ? 
 
 Finding Mountjoy inattentive, Mr. Vim- 
 pany addressed himself to Iris. 
 
 ' I had to ride hard, Miss Henley, to get 
 home in time for dinner. There are patients, 
 
MOUNTJOY PLAYS A NEW CARD 155 
 
 I must tell you, who send for the doctor, and 
 then seem to thmk they know more about it 
 than the very man whom they have called in 
 to cure them. It isn't he who tells them 
 what their illness is ; it's they who tell him. 
 They dispute about the medical treatment 
 that's best for them, and the one thing they 
 are never tired of doing is talking about their 
 symptoms. It was an old man's gabble that 
 kept me late to-day. However, the Squire, 
 as they call him in these parts, is a patient 
 with a long purse ; I am obliged to submit.' 
 
 ' A gentleman of the old school, dear Miss 
 Henley,' Mrs. Vimpany explained. ' Im- 
 mensely rich. Is he better .^ ' she asked, 
 turning to her husband. 
 
 ' Better ? ' cried the outspoken doctor. 
 ' Pooh ! there's nothing the matter with him 
 but gluttony. He went to London, and con- 
 sulted a great man, a humbug with a handle 
 to his name. The famous physician got rid 
 
156 BUND LOVE 
 
 of him in no time — sent him abroad to boil 
 himself in foreign baths. He came home 
 again worse than ever, and consulted poor 
 Me. I found him at dinner — a perfect feast, 
 I give you my word of honour ! — and the old 
 fool gorging himself till he was black in the 
 face. His wine, I should have said, was not 
 up to the mark ; wanted body and flavour, 
 you know. Ah, Mr. Mountjoy, this seems to 
 interest you ; reminds you of the landlady's 
 wine — eh? Well, sir, how do you think I 
 treated the Squire .^ Emptied his infirm old • 
 inside with an emetic — and there he was on 
 his legs again! Whenever he overeats him- 
 self, he sends for me ; and pays liberally. I 
 ought to be grateful to him, and I am. Upon 
 my soul, I believe I should be in the bank- 
 'ruptcy court but for the Squire's stomach. 
 Look at my wife ! She's sliocked at me. We 
 ought to keep up appearances, my dear? 
 Not I ! When I am poor, I say I am poor. 
 
MOUNTJOY PLAYS A NEW CARD 157 
 
 When I cure a patient, I make no mystery of 
 it ; everybody's welcome to know how it's 
 (lone. Don't be down-hearted, Arabella ; 
 nature never meant 3^our husband for a doctor, 
 and there's the long and the short of it. 
 Another glass of sherry, Mr. Mountjoy ? ' 
 
 All social ceremonies — includino^ the 
 curious Enghsh custom which sends the 
 ladies upstairs, after dinner, and leaves the 
 gentlemen at the table — found a devoted 
 adherent in Mrs. Yimpany, She rose as if 
 she had been presiding at a banquet, and led 
 Miss Henley affectionately to the drawing- 
 room. Iris glanced at Hugh. No : his mind 
 was not at ease yet ; the preoccupied look 
 had not left his face. 
 
 Jovial Mr. Vimpany pushed the bottle 
 across the table to his guest, and held out a 
 handful of big black cigars. 
 
 ' Now for the juice of the grape,' he cried, 
 * and the best cic^ar in all Endand ! ' 
 
158 BLIND LOVE 
 
 He had just filled his glass, and struck a 
 light for his cigar, when the servant came in 
 with a note. Some men relieve their sense of 
 indignation in one way, and some in another. 
 The doctor's form of relief was an oath.* 
 ' Talk about slavery ! ' he shouted. ' Find me 
 such a slave in all Africa as a man in my 
 profession. There isn't an hour of the day 
 or night that he can call his own. Here's 
 a stupid old woman with an asthma, who has 
 got another spasmodic attack — and I must 
 leave my dinner-table and my friend, just as 
 we are enjoying ourselves. I have half a mind 
 not to go.' 
 
 The inattentive guest suddenly set himself 
 right in his host's estimation. Hugh remon- 
 strated with an appearance of interest in the 
 case, which the doctor interpreted as a com- 
 pliment to himself: 'Oh, Mr. Vimpany, 
 humanity ! humanity ! ' 
 
 ' Oh, Mr. Mount] oy, money ! money ! ' the 
 
MOUNTJOY PLAYS A NEW CARD 159 
 
 facetious doctor answered. ' The old lady is 
 our Mayor's mother, sir. You don't seem to 
 be quick at taking a joke. Make your mind 
 easy ; I shall pocket my fee.' 
 
 As soon as he had closed the door, Hugh 
 Mountjoy uttered a devout ejaculation. 
 ' Thank God ! ' he said — and walked up and 
 down the room, free to think without inter- 
 ruption at last. 
 
 The subject of his meditations was the 
 influence of intoxication, in disclosing the 
 hidden weaknesses and vices of a man's 
 character by exhibiting them just as they are, 
 released from the restraint which he exercises 
 over himself when he is sober. That there 
 was a weak side, and probably a vicious side, 
 in Mr. Yimpany's nature it was hardly possible 
 to doubt. His blustering good liumour, his 
 audacious self-conceit, the tones of his voice, 
 the expression in his eyes, all revealed him 
 (to use one expressive word) as a humbug. 
 
i6o BLIND LOVE 
 
 Let drink subtly deprive him of his capacity 
 for self-concealment, and the true nature of 
 his wife's association with Lord Harry might 
 sooner or later show itself — say, in after- 
 dinner talk, under skilful management. The 
 right method of entrapping him into a state of 
 intoxication (which might have presented 
 serious difficulties under other circumstances) 
 was suggested, partly by his ignorance of the 
 difference between good wine and bad, and 
 partly by Mountjoy's knowledge of the 
 excellent quality of the landlady's claret. He 
 had recognised, as soon as he tasted it, that 
 finest vintage of Bordeaux, which conceals its 
 true strength — to a gross and ignorant taste 
 — under the exquisite delicacy of its flavour. 
 Encourage Mr. Yimpany, by means of a dinner 
 at the inn, to give his opinion as a man whose 
 judgment in claret was to be seriously con- 
 sulted — and permit him also to discover that 
 Hugh was rich enouo^h to have been able to 
 
MOUNTJOY PLAYS A NEW CARD 16 1 
 
 buy the wine — and the attainment of the end 
 in view woidd be simply a question of time. 
 There was certainly the chance to be reckoned 
 with, that his thick head might prove to be 
 too strong for the success of the experiment. 
 Mountjoy determined to try it, and did try it 
 nevertheless. 
 
 Mr. Yimpany returned from his medical 
 errand, thoroughly well satisfied with himself. 
 
 * The Mayor's mother has reason to thank 
 you, sir,' he announced. 'If you hadn't 
 hurried me away, the wretched old creature 
 would have been choked. A regular stand-up 
 fight, by Jupiter, between death and the 
 doctor ! — and the doctor has won ! Give me 
 the reward of merit. Pass the bottle.' 
 
 He took up the decanter, and looked 
 at it. 
 
 ' Why, what liave you been about ? ' he 
 asked. ' I made up my mind that I should 
 want the key of the cellar when I came back, 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
i62 BLIND LOVE 
 
 and I don't believe you have drunk a drop in 
 my absence. What does it mean ? ' 
 
 ' It means that I am not worthy of your 
 sherry,' Mouritjoy answered. ' The Spanish 
 wines are too strong for my weak digestion.' 
 
 Mr. Yimpany burst into one of his explo- 
 sions of laughter. ' You miss the landlady's 
 vinegar — eh ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, I do ! Wait a minute, doctor ; I 
 have a word to say on my side — and, like you, 
 I mean what I say. The landlady's vinegar is 
 some of the finest Chateau Margaux I have 
 ever met with— thrown away on ignorant 
 people who are quite unworthy of it.' 
 
 The doctor's natural insolence showed 
 itself. ' You have bought this wonderful 
 wine, of course ? ' he said satirically. 
 
 'That,' Mountjoy answered, ' is just what 
 I have done.' 
 
 For once in his life, Mr. Yimpany's self- 
 sufficient readiness of speech failed him. He 
 
• MOUNTJOV PLAYS A NEW CARD 163 
 
 stared at liis guest in dumb amazement. 
 On this occasion, Mountjoy improved the 
 opportunity to good purpose. Mr. Vimpany 
 accepted witli the utmost readiness an invita- 
 tion to dine, on the next day, at the inn. But 
 he made a condition. ' In case I don't agree 
 with you about that Chateau — what-you-call- 
 it,' he said, ' you won't mind my sending 
 home for a bottle of sherry ? ' 
 
 The next event of the day was a visit to 
 the most interesting monument of antiquity 
 in the town. In the absence of the doctor, 
 caused by professional engagements, Miss 
 Henley took Mountjoy to see the old church 
 — and Mrs. Yimpany accompanied them, as a 
 mark of respect to Miss Henley's friend. 
 
 When there was a chance of being able to 
 speak confidentially, Iris was eager in praising 
 the doctor's wife. ' You can't imagine, Hugh, 
 how agreeable she has been, and how entirely 
 she has convinced me that I was wron^r, 
 
 M 2 
 
I64 BLIND LOVE 
 
 shamefully wrong, in thinking of her as I did. 
 She sees that you dislike her, and yet she 
 speaks so nicely of you. *' Your clever friend 
 enjoys your society," she said ; '• pray accom- 
 pany me when I take him to see the church." 
 How unselfish ! ' 
 
 Mountjoy kept his own counsel. The 
 generous impulses which sometimes led Iris 
 astray were, as he well knew, beyond the 
 reach of remonstrance. His own opinion 
 of Mrs. Vimpany still pronounced steadily 
 against her. Prepared for discoveries, on the 
 next day, which might prove too serious to 
 be trifled with, he now did his best to provide 
 for future emergencies. 
 
 After first satisfying himself that there 
 was nothing in the present state of the maid's 
 health which need detain her mistress at 
 Honeybuzzard, he next completed his pre- 
 parations by returning to the inn, and writing 
 to Mr. Henley. With strict regard to truth, 
 
MOUNTJOY PLAYS A NEW CARD 165 
 
 his letter presented the daughter's claim on 
 the father under a new point of view. What- 
 ever the end of it might be, Mr. Henley was 
 requested to communicate his intentions by 
 telegraph. ' Will you receive Iris ? ' was the 
 question submitted. The answer expected 
 was : ' Yes ' or ' No.' 
 
166 BLIND LOVE 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE GAME : MOUNTJOY WI^'S * 
 
 E. HENLEY'S telegram arrived at 
 the inn the next morning. 
 
 He was wilhng to receive his 
 daughter, but not unreservedly. The mes- 
 sage was characteristic of the man : ' Yes — 
 on trial.' Mountjoy was not shocked, was not 
 even surprised. He knew that the successful 
 speculations, by means of which Mr. Henley 
 had accumulated his wealth, had raised against 
 him enemies, who had spread scandalous re- 
 ports which had never been completely refuted. 
 The silent secession of friends, in whose 
 fidelity he trusted, had hardened the man's 
 heart and embittered his nature. Strangers 
 
THE GAME: MOUNTJOY WINS 167 
 
 in distress, who appealed to the rich retired 
 merchant for help, found in their excellent 
 references to character the worst form of 
 .persuasion that they could have adopted. 
 Paupers witliout a rag of reputation left to 
 cover them, were the objects of charity whom 
 Mr. Henley relieved. When he was asked to 
 justify his conduct, he said : ' I have a sym- 
 pathy with bad characters — I am one of them 
 myself.' 
 
 With the arrival of the dinner-hour the 
 doctor appeared, in no very amiable humour, 
 at the inn. 
 
 ' Another hard da3^'s work/ he said ; ' I 
 should sink under it, if I hadn't a prospect of 
 getting rid of my practice here. London — or 
 the neighbourhood of London — there's the 
 right place for a man like Me. • Well? 
 Where's the wonderful wine ? Mind ! I'm 
 Tom-Tell-Truth ; if I don't like your French 
 tipple, I shall say so.' 
 
1 68 BLIND LOVE 
 
 The inn possessed no claret glasses ; they 
 drank the grand wine in tumblers as if it had 
 been vin ordinaire. 
 
 Mr. Yimj)any showed that he was ac- 
 quainted with the formalities proper to the 
 ceremony of tasting. He filled his makeshift 
 glass, he held it up to the light, and looked 
 at the wine severely ; he moved the tumbler 
 to and fro under his nose, and smelt at it 
 again and again ; he paused and reflected ; 
 he tasted the claret as cautiously as if he 
 feared it might be poisoned ; he smacked his 
 lips, and emptied his glass at a draught ; 
 lastly, he showed some consideration for his 
 host's anxiety, and pronounced sentence on 
 the wine. 
 
 'Not so good as you think it, sir. But 
 nice light claret ; clean and wholesome. I 
 hope you haven't given too much for it ? ' 
 
 Thus far, Hugh had played a losing game 
 patiently. His reward had come at last. 
 
THE GAME: MOUNTJOY WINS 169 
 
 After what the doctor had just said to him, 
 he saw the winning card safe in his own 
 hand. 
 
 The bad dinner was soon over. No soup, 
 of course ; fish, in the state of preservation 
 usually presented by a decayed country 
 town ; steak that rivalled the toughness of 
 india-rubber; potatoes whose aspect said, 
 ' Stranger, don't eat us ' ; pudding that would 
 have produced a sense of discouragement, 
 even in the mind of a child ; and the famous 
 English cheese which comes to us, oddly 
 enough, from the United States, and stings us 
 vindictively when we put it into our mouths. 
 But the wine, the glorious wine, would have 
 made amends to anybody but Mr. Yimpany 
 for the woeful deficiencies of the food. 
 Tumbler-full after tumbler-full of that noble 
 vintage poured down his thirsty and ignorant 
 throat ; and still he persisted in declaring 
 that it was nice li^ht stuff, and still he un- 
 
I70 BLIND LOVE 
 
 forgivingly bore in mind the badness of the 
 dinner. 
 
 ' The feeding here,' said this candid man, 
 ' is worse if possible than the feeding at sea, 
 when I served as doctor on board a pas- 
 senger-steamer. Sliall I tell you how I lost 
 my place ? Oh, say so plainly, if you don't 
 think my little anecdote worth listening to ! ' 
 ' My dear sir, I am waiting to hear it.' 
 ' Very good. No offence, I hope ? That's 
 right ! Well, sir, the captain of the ship 
 complained of me to the owners ; I wouldn't 
 go round, every morning, and knock at the 
 ladies' cabin-doors, and ask how they felt 
 after a sea-sick night. Who doesn't know 
 what they feel without knocking at their 
 doors ? Let them send for the doctor when 
 they want him. That was how I understood 
 my duty, and there was the line of conduct 
 that lost me my place. Pass the wine. Talk- 
 ing of ladies, what do you think of my wife ? 
 
THE GAME: MOUNTJOY WINS 171 
 
 Did you ever see such distinguished manners 
 before ? My dear fellow, I have taken a 
 fancy to you. Shake hands. I'll tell you 
 another little anecdote. Where do you think 
 my wife picked up her fashionable airs and 
 graces ? Ho ! ho ! On the stage ! The 
 highest branch of the profession, sir — a tragic 
 actress. If you had seen her in Lady Mac- 
 beth, Mrs. Yimpany would have made your 
 flesh creep. Look at me, and feast your eyes 
 on a man who is above hypocritical objec- 
 tions to the theatre. Haven't I proved it by 
 marrying an actress ? But we don't mention 
 it here. The savages in this beastly place 
 wouldn't employ me, if they knew I had 
 married a stage-player. Hullo ! the bottle's 
 empty again. Ha ! here's another bottle, full. 
 I love a man who has always got a full bottle 
 to offer his friend. Shake hands. I say, 
 Mountjoy, tell me on your sacred word of 
 honour, can you keep a secret .^ My wife's 
 
172 BLIND LOVE 
 
 secret, sir ! Stop ! let me look at you again. 
 I thouglit I saw you smile. If a man smiles 
 at me, when I am opening my whole heart to 
 him, by the living jingo, I would knock that 
 man down at his own table ! What ? you 
 didn't smile ? I apologise. Your hand again ; 
 I drink your health in your own good wine. 
 Where was I ? What was I talking about ? ' 
 
 Mountjoy carefully humoured his interest- 
 ing guest. 
 
 ' You were about to honour me,' he said, 
 ' by taking me into your confidence.' Mr. Vim- 
 pany stared in tipsy bewilderment. Mountjoy 
 tried again, in plainer language : ' You were 
 going to tell me a secret.' 
 
 This time the doctor grasped the idea. 
 He looked round cunningly to the door. 
 ' Any eavesdroj^pers ? ' he asked. ' Hush ! 
 Whisper — this is serious — whisper ! What 
 was it I was going to tell you ? What was 
 the secret, old boy ? ' 
 
THE GAME: MOUNTJOY WINS 173 
 
 Mountjoy answered a little too readily : ' I 
 think it related to Mrs. Vimpany.' 
 
 Mrs. Yimpany's husband threw himself 
 back in his chair, snatched a dirty handker- 
 chief out of his pocket, and began to cr}^ 
 
 ' Here's a false friend ! ' the creature whim- 
 pered. ' Asks me to dinner, and takes ad- 
 vantage of my dependent situation to insult 
 my wife. The loveliest of women, the sweet- 
 est of women, the innocentest of women. Oh, 
 my wife ! my wife ! ' He suddenly threw his 
 handkerchief to the other end of the room, 
 and burst out laughing. ' Ho ! ho ! Mountjoy, 
 what an infernal fool you must be to take 
 me seriously. I can act, too. Do you think 
 I care about my wife ? She was a fine woman 
 once ; she's a bundle of old rags now. But 
 she has her merits. Hush ! I want to know 
 something. Have you got a lord among your 
 circle of acquaintance.' 
 
 Experience made Mountjoy more careful ; 
 
174 BLIND LOVE 
 
 perhaps a little too careful. He only said 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 The doctor's dignity asserted itself. ' That's 
 a short answer, sir, to a man in my position. 
 If you want me to believe you, mention your 
 friend's name.' 
 
 Here was a chance at last! 'His name,' 
 Mountjoy began, ' is Lord Harry ' 
 
 Mr. Yimpany lost his dignity in an instant. 
 He struck his heavy fist on the table, with a 
 blow that made tlie tumblers jump. 
 
 ' Coincidence ! ' he cried. ' How wonder- 
 ful — no ; that's not the word — providential is 
 the word — how providential are coincidences! 
 I mean, of course, to a rightly constituted 
 mind. Let nobody contradict me ! When I 
 say a rightly constituted mind, I speak 
 seriously ; and a young man like you will be 
 all the better for it. Mountjoy ! dear Mount- 
 joy ! jolly Mountjoy ! my wife's lord is your 
 lord — Lord Harry. No ; none of your non- 
 
THE GAME: MOUNTJOY WINS 175 
 
 sense — I won't have any more wine. Yes, I 
 will ! It miglit hurt your feelings if I didn't 
 drink with you. Pass the bottle. Ha ! 
 That's a nice ring you've got on your finger. 
 Perhaps you tliink it valuable ? It's nothing, 
 sir ;.it's dross, it's dirt, compared to my wife's 
 dig-mond pin ! There's a jewel, if you like ! 
 It will be worth a fortune to us when we sell 
 it. A gift, dear sir. I'm afraid I've been too 
 familiar with you. Speaking as a born gen- 
 tleman, I beg to present my respects, and I 
 call you " dear sir." Did I tell you the 
 diamond pin was a gift ? It's nothing of the 
 sort ; we are under no obligation ; my wife, 
 my admirable wife, has earned that diamond 
 pin. By registered post ; and wliat I call a 
 manly letter from Lord Harry. He is deeply 
 obliged (I give you the sense of it) by what 
 my wife has done for him ; ready-money is 
 scarce with my lord ; he sends a family jewel, 
 with his love. Oh, I'm not jealous. He's 
 
176 BLIND LOVE 
 
 welcome to love Mrs. Vimpany, in her old 
 age, if he likes. Did you say that, sir ? Did 
 you say that Lord Harry, or any man, was 
 welcome to love Mrs. Vimpany? I have a 
 great mind to throw this bottle at your head. 
 No, I won't ; it's wasting good wine. How kind 
 of you to give me good wine! Who are you? 
 I don't like dining with a stranger. Do you 
 know any friend of mine ? Do you know a 
 man named Mountjoy ? Do you know two 
 men named Mountjoy? No : you don't. One 
 of them is dead ; killed by those murdering 
 scoundrels — what do you call them? Eh, 
 what?' The doctor's voice began to falter, 
 his head dropped ; he slumbered suddenly 
 and woke suddenly, and began talking 
 again suddenly. 'Would you like to be 
 made acquainted with Lord Harry ? I'll give 
 you a sketch of his character before I intro- 
 duce him. Between ourselves, he's a desperate 
 wretch. Do you know why he employed my 
 
THE GAME: MOUNT/0 Y WINS lyj 
 
 wife, m^ admirable wife ? You will agree 
 with me ; he ought to have looked after his 
 young woman himself. We've got his young- 
 woman safe in our house. A nice girl. Not 
 my style ; my medical knowledge certifies 
 she's cold-blooded. Lord Harry has only to 
 come over here, and find her. Why the 
 devil doesn't he come ? What is it keeps him 
 in Ireland ? Do you know? I seem to have 
 forgotten. My own belief is I've got soften- 
 ing of the brain. What's good for softening 
 of the brahi ? There isn't a doctor living who 
 won't tell you the right remedy — wine. Pass 
 the wine. If this claret is worth a farthinsr, 
 it's worth a guinea a bottle. I ask you in 
 confidence ; did you ever hear of such a fool 
 as my wife's lord.^ His name escapes me. 
 No matter ; he stops in Ireland — hunting. 
 HuntinfT what ? The fox ? Nothino; so 
 noble ; hunting assassins. He's got some 
 grudge against one of them. Means to kill 
 
 VOL. I. N 
 
178 BLIND LOVE 
 
 one of them. A word in your ear ; they'll 
 kill liim. Do you ever bet ? Five to one, 
 he's a dead man before the end of the week. 
 When is the end of the week ? Tuesday, 
 Wednesday — no, Saturday — that's the begin- 
 ning of the week — no, it isn't — the beginning 
 of tlie week isn't the Sabbath — Sunday, of 
 course — we are not Christians, we are Jews — 
 I mean we are Jews, we are not Christians — 
 I mean ' 
 
 The claret got the better of his tongue at 
 last. He mumbled and muttered ; he sank 
 back in his chair ; he chuckled ; he hiccup- 
 ped ; he fell asleejD. 
 
 All and more than all that Mountjoy 
 feared, he had now discovered. In a state of 
 sobriety, the doctor was probably one of those 
 men who are always ready to lie. In a state 
 of intoxication, the utterances of his drunken 
 delirium might unconsciously betray the 
 truth. The reason which he had aiven for 
 
THE GAME: MOUNTJOY WINS 179 
 
 Lord Harry's continued absence in Ireland 
 could not be wisely rejected as unworthy of 
 belief. It was in the reckless nature of the 
 wild lord to put his own life in peril, in the 
 hope of revenging Arthur Mount] oy on the 
 wretch who had- killed him. Taking this bad 
 news for granted, was there any need to dis- 
 tress Iris by communicating the motive wliich 
 detained Lord Harry in his own country ? 
 Surely not ! 
 
 And, again, was there any immediate 
 advantage to be gained by revealing the true 
 character of Mrs. Yimpany, as a spy, and 
 worse still a spy who was paid? In her 
 present state of feehng Iris would, in all pro- 
 bability, refuse to believe it. 
 
 Arriving at these conclusions, Hugh looked 
 at the doctor snoring and choking in an easy- 
 chair. He had not wasted the time and 
 patience, devoted to the stratagem which had 
 now successfully reached its end. After what 
 
i8o BLIND LOVE 
 
 he had just heard — thanks to the claret — he 
 could not hesitate to accomplish the speedy 
 removal of Iris from Mr. Vimpany's house ; 
 using her father's telegram as the only means 
 of persuasion on which it was possible to rely. 
 Mountjoy left the inn without ceremony, and 
 hurried away to Iris in the hope of inducing 
 her to return to London with him that night. 
 
I8i 
 
 CHAPTER YII 
 
 DOCTORING THE DOCTOR 
 
 SKING for Miss 
 Henley at the 
 doctor's door, 
 Hucfli was in- 
 formed tliat she 
 had gone out, 
 with her invahd 
 maid, for a walk. 
 Shehadleftword 
 if Mr. Moimtjoy 
 called in her absence, to beg that he would 
 kindly wait for her return. 
 
 On his way up to the drawing-room, 
 Mountjoy heard Mrs. Yimpany's sonorous 
 
1 82 BLIND LOVE 
 
 voice occupied, as he supposed, in reading 
 aloud. The door being opened for him, he 
 surprised lier, striding up and down the room 
 with a book in her hand ; grandly declaiming 
 without anybody to applaud her. After what 
 Hugh had already heard, he could only 
 conclude that reminiscences of her theatrical 
 career had tempted the solitary actress to 
 make a private appearance, for her own 
 pleasure, in one of those tragic characters 
 to which her husband had alluded. She 
 recovered her self-possession on Mountjoy's 
 appearance, with the ease of a mistress of her 
 art. 'Pardon me,' she said, holding up her 
 book with one hand, and tapping it indica- 
 tively wdth the other ; ' Shakespeare carries 
 me out of mj^self. A spark of the j^oet's fire 
 burns in the poet's humble servant. May I 
 hope that I have made myself understood ? 
 You look as if you had a fellow-feeling for 
 me.' 
 
DOCTORING THE DOCTOR 183 
 
 Mountjoy did his best to fill tlie sympa- 
 thetic part assigned to him, and only suc- 
 ceeded in showing what a bad actor he would 
 have been, if he had gone on the stage; 
 Under the sedative influence thus adminis- 
 tered, Mrs. Vimpany put away her book, and 
 descended at once from the highest poetry to 
 the lowest prose. 
 
 'Let us return to domestic events,' she 
 said indulgently. ' Have the people at the 
 inn given you a good dinner .^ ' 
 
 ' The people did their best,' Mountjoy 
 answered cautiously. 
 
 ' Has my husband returned with you ? ' 
 Mrs. Vimpany went on. 
 
 Mountjoy began to regret that he had not 
 waited for Iris in the street. He was obliijed 
 to acknowledge that the doctor had not 
 returned Avith him. 
 
 ' Where is Mr. Yimjoany ? ' 
 
 ' At the inn.' 
 
1 84 BLIND LOVE 
 
 ' What is he doing there P ' 
 
 Mountjoy hesitated. Mrs. Yimpany rose 
 again into the regions of tragic poetry. She 
 stepped up to him, as if he had been Macbeth, 
 and she was ready to use the daggers. '1 
 understand but too well,' she declared, in 
 terrible tones. 'My wretched husband's vices 
 are known to me. Mr. Vimpany is intoxi- 
 cated.' 
 
 Hugh tried to make the best of it. ' Only 
 asleep,' he said. Mrs. Vimpany looked at 
 him once more. This time, it Avas Queen 
 Katharine looking at Cardinal Wolsey. She 
 bowed with lofty courtesy, and opened the 
 door. ' I have occasion,' she said, ' to go 
 out ' and made an exit. 
 
 Five minutes later, Mountjoy (standing at 
 the window, impatiently on the watch for the 
 return of Iris) saw Mrs. Vimpany in the street. 
 She entered a chemist's shop, on tlie opposite 
 side of the way, and came out again with a 
 
DOCTORING THE DOCTOR 185 
 
 bottle in her hand. It was enclosed in the 
 customary medical wrapping of white paper. 
 Majestically, she passed out of sight. If Hugh 
 had followed her, he would have traced the 
 doctor's wife to the door of the inn. 
 
 The unemployed waiter was on the house- 
 steps, looking about him — with nothing to 
 see. He made his bow to Mrs. Vimpany, and 
 informed her that the landlady had gone out. 
 
 ' You will do as well,' was the reply. ' Is 
 Mr. Yimpany here ? ' 
 
 The waiter smiled, and led the way through 
 the passage to tlie foot of the stairs. 'You 
 can hear him, ma'am.' It was quite true ; 
 Mr. Yimpany 's snoring answered for Mr. 
 Yimpany. His wife ascended the first two or 
 three stairs, and stopped to sj^eak again to the 
 waiter. She asked what the two gentlemen 
 had taken to drink with their dinner. They 
 had taken ' the French wine.' 
 
 ' And nothing else ? ' 
 
1 86 BLIND LOVE 
 
 The waiter ventured on a little joke. 
 'Nothing else,' he said — 'and more than 
 enough of it, too.' 
 
 ' Not more than enough, I suppose, for 
 the good of the house,' Mrs. Vimpany re- 
 marked. 
 
 ' I beg your pardon, ma'am ; the claret 
 the two gentlemen drank is not charged for in 
 the bill.' 
 
 ' What do you mean ? ' 
 
 The waiter explained that Mr. Mountjoy 
 had purchased the whole stock of the wine. 
 Suspicion, as well as surprise, appeared in 
 Mrs. Yimpany's face. She had hitherto 
 thought it likely that Miss Henley's gentleman- 
 like friend might be secretly in love with the 
 young lady. Her doubts of him, now, took a 
 wider range of distrust. She went on up the 
 stairs by herself, and banged the door of the 
 private room as the easiest means of waking 
 the sleeping man. To the utmost noise that 
 
DOCTORING THE DOCTOR 1S7 
 
 she could make in this way, he was perfectly 
 impenetrable. For a while -she waited, look- 
 ing at him across the table with unutterable 
 contempt. 
 
 There was the man to whom the religion 
 of the land and the law of the land, acting 
 together in perfect harmony, had fettered her 
 for life ! Some women, in her position, might 
 have wasted time in useless self-reproach. 
 Mrs. Yimpany reviewed her miserable married 
 life with the finest mockery of her own 
 misfortune. ' Virtue,' she said to herself, 
 ' is its own reward.' # 
 
 Glancing with careless curiosity at the 
 disorder of the dinner-table, she noticed some 
 wine still left in the bottom of her husband's 
 glass. Had artificial means been used to 
 reduce him to his. present condition ? She 
 tasted the claret. No : there was nothinjy in 
 the flavour of it which betrayed that he had 
 been dru(?£?ed. If the waiter was to be 
 
1 88 BLIND LOVE 
 
 believed, he had only drunk claret — and there 
 he was, in a state of helpless stupefaction, 
 nevertheless. 
 
 She looked again at the dinner-table, and 
 discovered one among the many empty 
 bottles, with some wine still left in it. After 
 a moment of reflection, she took a clean 
 tumbler from the sideboard. 
 
 Here was the wine which had been an 
 object of derision to Mr. Yimpany and his 
 friends. They were gross feeders and 
 drinkers ; and it might not be amiss to put 
 their opinions to the test. She was not 
 searching for the taste of a drug now ; her 
 present experiment proposed to try the wine 
 on its own merits. 
 
 At the time of her triumphs on the 
 country stage — before the date of her 
 unlucky marriage — rich admirers had enter- 
 tained the handsome actress at suppers, which 
 offered every luxury that the most perfect 
 
DOCTORING THE DOCTOR 189 
 
 table could supply. Experience had made 
 her acquainted with the flavour of the finest 
 claret — and that experience was renewed by 
 the claret which she was now tasting. It was 
 easy to understand why Mr. Mountjoy had 
 purchased the wine ; and, after a little think- 
 ing, his motive for inviting Mr. Vimpany to 
 dinner seemed to be equally plain. Foiled in 
 their first attempt at discovery by her own 
 prudence and tact, his suspicions had set their 
 trap. Her gross husband had been tempted 
 to drink, and to talk at random (for Mr. 
 Mountjoy's benefit) in a state of intoxication ! 
 
 What secrets might the helpless wretch not 
 have betrayed, before the wine had completely 
 stupefied him ? 
 
 Urged by rage and fear, she shook him 
 furiously. He woke ; he glared at her with 
 bloodshot eyes ; he threatened Jier with his 
 clenched fist. There was but one way of hft- 
 ing his purbhnd stupidity to the light. She 
 
I90 BLIND LOVE 
 
 appealed to his experience of himself, on many 
 a former occasion : ' You fool, you have been 
 drinking again — and there's a patient waiting 
 for you.' To that dilemma he was accus- 
 tomed ; the statement of it partially roused 
 him. Mrs. Yimpany tore off the paper wrap- 
 ping, and opened the medicine-bottle which 
 she had brought with her. 
 
 He stared at it ; he muttered to himself: 
 ' Is she going to poison me ? ' She seized his 
 head with one hand, and held the open bottle 
 to his nose. ' Your own prescription/ she 
 cried, ' for yourself and your hateful friends.' 
 
 His nose told him what words midit have 
 tried vainly to say ; he swallowed the mixture. 
 ' If I lose the patient,' he muttered oracularly, 
 ' I lose the money.' His resolute wife dragged 
 him out of his chair. The second door in the 
 dining-room led into an empty bed-chamber. 
 With her help, he got into the room, and 
 dropped on the bed. 
 
DOCTORING THE DOCTOR 191 
 
 Mrs. Vimpany consulted her watch. 
 
 On many a former occasion she had learnt 
 what interval of repose, was required, before 
 the sobering influence of the mixture could suc- 
 cessfully assert itself. For the present, she had 
 only to return to the other room. The waiter 
 presented himself, asking if there was anything 
 he could do for her. Familiar with the defec- 
 tive side of her husband's character, he under- 
 stood what it meant when she pointed to the 
 bedroom door. 'The old story, ma'am,' he 
 said, with an air of respectful sympathy. 
 ' Can 1 get you a cup of tea ? ' 
 
 Mrs. Vimpany accepted the tea, and 
 enjoyed it thoughtfully. 
 
 She had two objects in view — to be 
 revenged on Mountjoy, and to find a way of 
 forcing him to leave tlie town before he could 
 communicate his discoveries to Iris. How to 
 reach these separate ends, by one and the 
 same means, was still the problem which she 
 
192 BLIND LOVE 
 
 was trying to solve, when the doctor's coarse 
 voice was audible calling for somebody to 
 come to him. 
 
 If his head was only clear enough, by this 
 time, to understand the questions which she 
 meant to put, his answers might suggest 
 the idea of which she was in search. Eisino^ 
 with alacrity, Mrs. Vimpany returned to the 
 bed-chamber. 
 
 ' You miserable creature,' she began, ' are 
 you sober now ? ' 
 
 ' I'm as sober as you are.' 
 
 ' Do you know,' she went on, ' why Mr. 
 Mountjoy asked you to dine with him ? ' 
 
 ' Because he's my friend.' 
 
 ' He is your worst enemy. Hold your 
 tongue ! I'll explain what I mean directly. 
 Eouse your memory, if you have got a memory 
 left. I want to know what you and Mr. 
 Mountjoy talked about, after dinner.' 
 
 He stared at her helplessly. She tried to 
 
DOCTORING THE DOCTOR 193 
 
 liiid lior Avay to liis recollection by making 
 suggestive inquiries. It was useless ; he 
 only complained of being thirsty. His wife 
 lost her self-control. She was too furiously 
 angry with him to be able to remain in the 
 room, liecovering her composure when she 
 was alone, she sent for soda-water and brandy. 
 Her one chance of makini? him useful was to 
 humour his vile temper ; she waited on him 
 herself. 
 
 In some degjree the drink cleared his 
 muddled head. Mrs. Yimpany tried his 
 memory once more. Had he said this ? Had 
 he said that? Yes: he thouglit it likely. 
 Had he, or had Mr. Mountjoy, mentioned 
 Lord Harry's name ? A glimmer of intelli- 
 gence showed itself in his stupid eyes. Yes 
 — and they had quarrelled about it : he rather 
 thouglit he had thrown a bottle at Mr. 
 Mountjoy's head. Had they, either of them, 
 said anything about Miss Henley ? Oh, of 
 
 VOL 1. o 
 
194 BLIND LOVE 
 
 course! What was it? He was unable to 
 remember. Had liis wife done bothering 
 him, now ? 
 
 ' Not quite,' she rephed. ' Try to under- 
 stand what I am going to say to you. If 
 Lord Harry comes to us, while Miss Henley is 
 in our house ' 
 
 He interrupted her : ' That's your business.' 
 
 ' Wait a little. It's my business, if I liear 
 beforehand that his lordship is coming. But 
 he is quite reckless enough to take us by 
 surprise. In that case, I want you to make 
 yourself useful. If you happen to be at home, 
 keep him from seeing Miss Henley, until I 
 have seen lier first.' 
 
 * Why ? ' 
 
 'I want an opportunity, my dear, of telling 
 Miss Henley that I have been wicked enough 
 to deceive her, before slie fnids it out for 
 herself. I may hope she will forgive me, if I 
 confess every tiling.' 
 
DOCTORING THE DOCTOR 195 
 
 The doctor laughed : ' What the devil 
 does it matter whether she forgives 3^011 or 
 not ? ' 
 
 ' It matters a great deal.' 
 
 ' Why, you talk as if you were fond of 
 her ! ' 
 
 ' I am.' 
 
 The doctor's clouded intelHgence was 
 beginning to clear ; he made a smart reply : 
 ' Fond of her, and deceiving her — aha ! ' 
 
 ' Yes,' she said quietly, ' that's just what 
 it is. It has grown on me, httle by httle ; I 
 can't help liking Miss Henley.' 
 
 ' Well,' Mr. Vimpany remarked, ' you are 
 a fool ! ' He looked at her cunningly. 
 * Suppose I do make myself useful, what am I 
 to gain by it ? ' 
 
 ' Let us get back,' she suggested, ' to the 
 gentleman who invited you to dinner, and 
 made you tipsy for his own purposes.' 
 
 * I'll break every bone in his skin ! ' 
 
196 BLIND LOVE 
 
 ' Don't talk nonsense ! Leave Mr. Mount- 
 joy to me.' 
 
 ' Do you take his part ? I can tell you 
 this. If I drank too much of tliat poisonous 
 French stuff, Mountjoy set me the example. 
 He Avas tipsy — as you call it — shamefully 
 tipsy, I give you my word of honour. What's 
 the matter now ? ' 
 
 His wife (so impenetrably cool, thus far) 
 had suddenly become excited. There was not 
 the smallest fragment of truth in what lie had 
 just said of Hugh, and Mrs. Yimpany was not 
 for a moment deceived by it. But the lie 
 had, accidentally, one merit — it suggested to 
 her the idea which she liad vainly tried to 
 iind, over her cup of tea. ' Suppose I shoAV 
 you how you may be revenged on Mr. 
 Mountjoy,' slie said. 
 
 'Well?' 
 
 'Will you remember what I asked you to 
 
'Xozu,' she said, taking a chair iy the I'cdsidc, 'yon shall k7iow zvhat a clcz'er zvifc you have got .' 
 
DOCTORING THE DOCTOR 197 
 
 do for me, if Lord Harry takes us by sur- 
 prise ? ' 
 
 He produced his pocket-diary, and told 
 her to make a memorandum of it. She wrote 
 as briefly as if she liad been writing a 
 telegram : ' Keep Lord Harry from seeing 
 Miss Henley, till I have seen her first.' 
 
 ' Now,' she said, taking a chair by the 
 bedside, ' you shall know what a clever wife 
 you have got. Listen to me.' 
 
198 BLIND LOVE 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII 
 
 HER father's ME>SSAGE 
 
 'OOKING out of the drawing-room 
 window, for the tenth time at 
 least, Mountjoy at last saw^ Iris in 
 the street, returning to the house. 
 
 She brought the maid with her into tlie 
 drawing-room, in the gayest of good spirits, 
 and presented Ehoda to Mountjoy. 
 
 ' What a blessing a good long walk is, if 
 we only knew it ! ' she exclaimed. ' Look at 
 my little maid's colour ! Who would suppose 
 that she came here with heavy eyes and pale 
 cheeks.^ Except tliat she loses her way in 
 the town, whenever she goes out alone, we 
 liave every reason to congratulate ourselves 
 
HER FATHER'S MESSAGE 199 
 
 on our residence at Honey buzzard. The 
 doctor is Elioda's good genius, and the doctor's 
 wife is her fairy godmother.' 
 
 Mountjoy's courtesy having offered tlie 
 customary congratulations, the maid was per- 
 mitted to retire; and Iris was free to express 
 her astonishment at the friendly relations 
 established (by means of the dinner- table) 
 between the two most dissimilar men on tlie 
 face of creation. 
 
 ' Til ere is something overwhelming,' she 
 declared, ' in the bare idea of your having 
 asked him to dine with you — on such a short 
 acquaintance, and lacing such a man ! I should 
 like to have peeped in, and seen you enter- 
 taining your guest with the luxuries of tlie 
 hotel larder. Seriously, Hugh, your social 
 sympathies have taken a range for which I 
 was not prepared. After the example that 
 you have set me, I feel ashamed of Iiaving 
 doubted ^xhether Mr. Vimixnny was worthy 
 
2CO BLIND LOVE 
 
 of his charming wife. Don't suppose that I 
 am ungrateful to the doctor ! He has found 
 his way to my regard, after what he has done 
 for Ehoda. I only fail to understand how he 
 has possessed himself of your sympathies.' 
 
 So she ran on, enjoying tlie exercise oi 
 her own sense of humour in innocent igno- 
 rance of the serious interests wliicli she was 
 deriding. 
 
 Mountjoy tried to stop her, and tried in 
 vain. 
 
 'No, no,' she persisted as mischievously 
 as ever, ' the subject is too interesting to be 
 dismissed. I am dying to know how you and 
 your guest got through tlie dinner. Did he 
 take more wine than was good for him ? And 
 when he forgot his good inanners, did he set 
 it all riglit again by saying, " Xo offence," and 
 passing the bottle ? ' 
 
 Hugh could endure it no longer. ' Pray 
 control your higli spirits for a moment,' 
 
HER FATHER'S MESSAGE 201 
 
 lie said. ' I liavc news fur you from 
 home.' 
 
 Those words put an end to her outbreak 
 of gaiety in an instant. 
 
 ' News from my father ? ' she asked. 
 
 'Yes.' 
 
 ' Is he comini]: here ? ' 
 
 'No ; I have heard from him.' 
 
 ' A letter ? ' 
 
 'A telegram,' Mountjoy explained, 'in 
 answer to a letter from me. I did my best 
 to press your claims on liim, and I am glad 
 to say I have not failed.' 
 
 ' Hugh, dear Hugh ! have you succeeded 
 in reconciling us ? ' 
 
 Mountjoy produced the telegram. ' I 
 asked Mr. Henley,' he said, ' to let me know 
 at once whether he would receive you, and 
 to answer plainly Yes or Xo. The message 
 might have been more kindly expressed — 
 but, at any rate, it is a favourable reply.' 
 
202 BLIND LOVE 
 
 Iris read the telegram. ' Is there another 
 father in the world,' she said sadly, ' who 
 would tell his daughter, when she asks to come 
 liome, that he will receive her on trial ? ' 
 
 ' Surely, you are not offended with him. 
 Iris ? ' 
 
 She shook her head. ' I am like you,' 
 she said. ' I know him too well to be offended. 
 He shall find me dutiful, he shall find me 
 patient. I am afraid I must not expect you 
 to wait for me in Honeybuzzard. Will you 
 tell my father that I hope to return to him in 
 a week's time ? ' 
 
 ' Pardon me, Iris, I see no reason wliy you 
 should waste a week in this town. On the 
 contrary, the more eager you show j^ourself to 
 return to your father, the more Hkely you are 
 to recover your place in liis estimation. I 
 had planned to take you home by the next 
 train.' 
 
 Iris looked at him in astonishment. ' Is it 
 
HER FATHER'S MESSAGE 203 
 
 possible that you mean what you sayP' slie 
 asked. 
 
 ' My dear, I do most assuredly mean what 
 I say. Why should you hesitate? What 
 possible reason can there be for staying here 
 any longer ? ' 
 
 ' Oh, Hugh, liow you disappoint me ! 
 What has become of your kind feeling, your 
 sense of justice, your consideration for others? 
 Poor Mrs. Vimpany ! ' 
 
 ' What has Mrs. Vimpany to do with it ? ' 
 
 Iris was indignant. 
 
 ' What has Mrs. Vimpany to do with it ? ' 
 she repeated. ' After all that I owe to that 
 good creature's kindness ; after I have pro- 
 mised to accompany her— she has so few 
 happy days, poor soul ! — on excursions to 
 places of interest in the ncighbourliood, do 
 you expect me to leave her — no ! it's worse 
 than that — do you expect me to throw her 
 aside like an old dress tliat I have worn out ? 
 
204 BLIND LOVE 
 
 And tliis after I have so unjustly, so ungrate- 
 fully suspected her in my own thoughts? 
 Shameful ! shameful ! ' 
 
 Witli some difficulty, Mountjoy controlled 
 himself. After what she had just said, his 
 lips were sealed on the subject of Mrs. 
 Yimpany's true character. He could only 
 persist in appealing to her duty to her 
 father. 
 
 ' You are allowing your quick temper to 
 carry you to strange extremities,' he answered. 
 ' If I think it of more importance to hasten a 
 reconciliation with your father than to en- 
 courage you to make excursions with a lady 
 whom you have only known for a week or 
 two, what have I done to deserve such an out- 
 break of vca^QY ? Hush ! Not a word more 
 now ! Here is the lady herself.' 
 
 As he spoke, Mrs. Yimpany joined tliem ; 
 rcturnhig from her interview with her 
 liusband at tlie inn. She looked first at Iris, 
 
HER FATHER'S MESSAGE 203 
 
 and at once perceived signs of disturbance in 
 the young lady's face. 
 
 Concealing her anxiety under tliat wonder- 
 ful sta<xe smile, wliich aflbrds a refug-e to so 
 many secrets, Mrs. Vimpany said a few words 
 excusing her absence. Miss Henley answered, 
 without the slightest change in her friendly 
 manner to the doctor's wife. The signs of 
 disturbance were evidently attributable to 
 some entirely unimportant cause from Mrs. 
 Yimpany's point of view. Mr. Mountjoy's 
 discoveries had not been communicated yet. 
 
 In Hugh's state of mind, there was some 
 irritating influence in tlie presence of the 
 mistress of the house, which applied the spur 
 to liis wits. He miscliievously proposed sub- 
 mitting to her tlie question in dispute between 
 Iris and liimself. 
 
 ' It is a very simple matter,' he said to 
 Mrs. Vimpany. ' Miss Henley's father is 
 anxious that she should return to him, after 
 
2o6 BLIND LOVE 
 
 an estrangement between them which is hap- 
 pily at an end. Do you think she ought to 
 allow any accidental engagements to prevent 
 her from going home at once ? If she requests 
 your indulgence, under the circumstances, 
 has she any reason to anticipate a refusal ? ' 
 
 Mrs. Yimpany's expressive eyes looked up, 
 with saintly resignation, at the dirty ceiling 
 — and asked in dumb show Avhat she had 
 done to deserve the injury implied by a 
 doubt ! 
 
 ' Mr. Mountjoy,' she said sternly, ' you 
 insult me by asking the question. Dear Miss 
 Henley,' she continued, turning to Iris, ' you 
 will do me justice, I am sure. Am I capable of 
 allowing my own feelings to stand in the way, 
 when your filial duty is concerned ? Leave 
 me, my sweet friend. Go ! I entreat you, go 
 home ! ' 
 
 She retired up the stage — no, no ; she 
 withdrew to the otlier end of the room — and 
 
HER FATHER'S MESSAGE 207 
 
 burst into the most becoming of all human 
 tears, theatrical tears. Impulsive Iris hastened 
 to comfort the personification of self-sacrifice, 
 the model of all that was most unselfish in 
 female submission. ' For shame ! for shame ! ' 
 she whispered, as she passed Mountjoy. 
 
 Beaten again by Mrs. Vimpany — with no 
 ties of relationship to justify resistance to Miss 
 Henley ; with two women against him, en- 
 trenched behind the privileges of their sex 
 — the one last sacrifice of his own feelings, in 
 the interests of Iris, that Hugh could make 
 was to control the impulse wdiich naturally 
 urged him to leave the house. In the help- 
 less position in which he had now placed him- 
 self, he could only wait to see what course 
 Mrs. Yimpany might think it desirable to 
 take. Would she request him, in her most 
 politely malicious way, to bring his visit to an 
 end? No: she looked at him — hesitated — 
 directed a furtive glance towards the view of 
 
2o8 BLIND LOVE 
 
 the street from the Avindow — smiled mysteri- 
 ously — and completed ilie sacrifice of her 
 own feelim^s in tliese words : 
 
 'Dear Miss Ilenley, let me lielp yon to 
 pack np.' 
 
 Iris positively refused. 
 
 ' No,' slie said, ' I don't agree with Mr. 
 Mountjoy. My father leaves it to me to name 
 the day when w^e meet. Iliold you, my dear, 
 to our euG^ao^ement — I don't leave an affection- 
 ate friend as I mi<2;ht leave a stranger.' 
 
 Even if Mr. Mountjoy communicated his 
 discoveries to Miss Henley, on the way home, 
 there Avould be no danger now of her 
 believing him. Mrs. Yim2:)any put her 
 power fid arm round the generous Iris, and, 
 with inlinite grace, thanked lier by a kiss. 
 
 ' Your kindness will make iny lonely lot in 
 life harder than ever to bear,' she murmured, 
 ' when you are gone.' 
 
 ' But w^e may liope to meet in London,' 
 
HER FATHER'S MESSAGE 209 
 
 Iris reminded her, ' unless Mr. Vimpany alters 
 his mind about leaving this place.' 
 
 ' My husband will not do that, dear. He 
 is determined to try his luck, as he says, in 
 London. In tlie meantime you will give me 
 your address, won't you ? Perhaps you will 
 even promise to write to me ? ' 
 
 Iris instantly gave her promise, and ^vrote 
 down her address in London. 
 
 Mountjoy made no attempt to interfere : 
 it was needless. 
 
 If the maid had not fallen ill on the 
 journey, and if Mrs. Yimpany had followed 
 Miss Henley to London, there would have 
 been little to fear in the discovery of her 
 address — and there was little to fear now. 
 The danger to Iris was not in what might 
 happen while she was living under her father's 
 roof, but in what might happen if she was 
 detained (by plans for excursions) in Mr. 
 
 VOL. I. p 
 
2IO BLIND LOVE 
 
 Yimpany's house, until Lord Harry might join 
 her there. 
 
 Eather than permit tliis to happen, Hugh 
 (in sheer desperation) meclitatcd charging Mrs. 
 Vimpany, to her face, with being the Irish 
 lord's spy, and proving tlie accusation by 
 challenging her to produce the registered 
 letter and the diamond pin. 
 
 While he was still struggling with his owni 
 reluctance to inflict this degrading exposure 
 on a woman, the talk between the two ladies 
 came to an end. Mrs. Vimpany returned 
 again to the wdndow. On this occasion, she 
 looked out into the street — with her handker- 
 chief (was it used as a signal ?) exhibited in 
 her liand. Iris, on her side, advanced to 
 Mountjoy. Easily moved to anger, lier 
 nature was incapable of sullen perseverance 
 in a state of enmit3^ To see Hugh si ill 
 patiently waiting — still risking the chances of 
 insult — devoted to lier, and foroivinir her — was 
 
HER FATHER'S MESSAGE 211 
 
 at once a reproach that punished Iris, and a 
 mute appeal that no true woman's lieart could 
 resist. 
 
 With tears in her eyes, she said to him : 
 ' There must be no coolness between you and 
 me. I lost my temper, and spoke shamefully 
 to you. My dear, I am indeed sorry for it. 
 You are never hard on me — you won't be 
 hard on me now ? ' 
 
 She offered her hand to him. He had 
 just raised it to his lips — when tlie drawing- 
 room door was roughly opened. They both 
 looked round. 
 
 The man of all others whom Hugli least 
 desired to see was the man who now entered 
 the room. The victim of ' light claret ' — 
 privately directed to lurk in the street, until 
 he saw a handkerchief fluttering at the window 
 — had returned to the house ; primed with his 
 clever wife's instructions ; read}^ and eager to 
 be even with Mountjoy for tlie dinner at the inn. 
 
 r 1 
 
212 BLIND LOVE 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 ME. VIMPANY ON INTOXICATION 
 
 'HEEE was no unsteadiness in the 
 doctor's walk, and no flush on 
 ]iis face. He certainly did strut 
 Avhen he entered the room ; and he held up 
 his head with dignity, when he discovered 
 Mountjoy. But he seemed to preserve his 
 self-control. Was the man sober again al- 
 ready ? 
 
 His wife approached him with her set 
 smile ; the appearance of her lord and master 
 filled Mrs. Yimpany with perfectlj-assumed 
 emotions of agreeable surprise. 
 
 ' This is an unexpected pleasure,' she said. 
 ' You seldom favour us Avith your company, 
 
MR. VIM P ANY ON INTOXICATION 213 
 
 my clear, so early in tlie evening. Are there 
 fewer patients in want of your advice than 
 usual ? ' 
 
 ' You are mistaken, Arabella. I am here 
 in the performance of a painful clut3\' 
 
 The doctor's language, and the doctor's 
 manner, presented him to Iris in a character 
 that was new to her. What effect had he 
 produced on Mrs. Almpany? That excellent 
 friend to travellers in distress lowered her 
 eyes to tlie floor, and modestly preserved 
 silence. Mr. Yimpany proceeded to the per- 
 formance of his duty ; his painful responsi- 
 bility seemed to strike him at first from a 
 medical point of view. 
 
 ' If there is a poison whicli undermines the 
 sources of life,' he remarked, 'it is alcohol. 
 If there is a vice that deirrades humanitv, it is 
 intoxication. Mr. Mountjoy, are you aware 
 that I am looking at you P ' 
 
 ' Impossible not to be aware of that,' 
 
214 BLIND ILOVE 
 
 Hui^li answered. ' May I ask wliv you are 
 looking at me ? ' It was not eas}^ to listen 
 gravely to Mr. Yimpany's denunciation of in- 
 temperance, after what had taken place at 
 the dinner of that day. Hugh smiled. The 
 moral majesty of the doctor entered its 
 protest. 
 
 'This is really shameful,' he said. 'The 
 least you can do is to take it seriously.' 
 
 'What is it?' Mountjoy asked. 'And 
 why am I to take it seriously ? ' 
 
 Mr. Yimpany's reply was, to say the least 
 of it, indirect. If such an expression may be 
 permitted, it smelt of the stage. Yiewed in 
 connection with Mrs. Yimpany's persistent 
 assumption of silent humility, it suggested to 
 Mountjoy a secret understanding, of some 
 kind, between husband and wife. 
 
 'What has become of j^our conscience, 
 sir ? ' Mr. Yimpany demanded. ' Is that silent 
 monitor dead within you ? After giving me a 
 
MR. VI MP ANY ON INTOXICATIO.\ 215 
 
 bad dinner, do you demand an explanation ? 
 Ha ! you shall have it.' 
 
 Having delivered himself to this effect, 
 he added action to words. Walking grandly 
 to the door, he threw it open, and saluted 
 Mountjoy with an ironical bow. Iris ob- 
 served that act of insolence ; her colour 
 rose, her eyes glittered. 'Do you see what 
 he has just done ? ' she said to Mrs. Yim- 
 pany. 
 
 The doctor's wife answered softly: 'I don't 
 understand it.' After a glance at her husband, 
 she took Iris by the hand: 'Dear Miss Henley, 
 shall we retire to my room ? ' 
 
 Iris drew her hand away. ' Not iniless 
 Mr. Mountjoy wishes it,' she said. 
 
 ' Certainly not ! ' Hugh declared. ' Pray 
 remain here ; your presence will help me to 
 keep my temper.' He stepped up to Mr. 
 Yimpany. ' Have you any particular reason 
 for opening that door ? ' he asked. 
 
2i6 BLIND LOVE 
 
 The doctor was a rascal ; but, to do liiin 
 justice, lie was uo coward. 'Yes/ he said, 
 'I liave a reasou.' 
 
 ' What is it, if you please ? ' 
 
 * Christian forbearance,' Mr. Yimpany 
 answered. 
 
 'Forbearance towards me?' Mountjoy 
 continued. 
 
 The doctor's dignity suddenly deserted 
 him . 
 
 ' Aha, my boy, you have got it at last ! ' 
 he cried. 'It's pleasant to understand each 
 other, isn't it ? You see, I'm a plain-spoken 
 fellow ; I don't wish to give offence. If there's 
 one thing more than another I pride myself 
 on, it's my indulgence for human frailty. 
 But, in my position here, I'm obliged to 
 be careful. Upon my soul, I can't con- 
 tinue my acquaintance with a man who — 
 oh, come I come ! don't look as if you didn't 
 understand me. The circumstances are 
 
MR. VIMPANV ON INTOXICATION 217 
 
 against you, sir. You have treated me in- 
 famously.' 
 
 ' Under what circumstances have I treated 
 you infamously?' Hugh asked. 
 
 ' Under pretence of giving me a dinner,' 
 Mr. Vimpany shouted — ' the worst dinner I 
 ever sat down to ! ' 
 
 His wife signed to him to be silent. He 
 took no notice of her. She insisted on being 
 understood. ' Say no more ! ' she warned 
 him, in a tone of command. 
 
 The brute side of his nature, roused by 
 Mountjoy's contemptuous composure, was 
 forcing its way outwards ; he set his wife at 
 defiance. 
 
 ' Then don't let him look at me as if lie 
 thought I was in a state of intoxication ! ' cried 
 tlie furious doctor. ' Tliere's the man. Miss, 
 who tried to make me tipsy,' lie went on, 
 actually addressing himself to Iris. 'Thanks 
 to my habits of sobriety, he has been caught 
 
2i8 BLIND LOVE 
 
 ill his own trap. lies intoxicated. Ha, 
 friend Moiintjoy, liave you got tlie right 
 explanation at last ? There's tlie door, 
 sir ! ' 
 
 Mrs. Vimpany felt that this outrage was 
 beyond endurance. If something Avas not 
 done to atone for it, Miss Henley Avould be 
 capable — her face, at that moment, answered 
 for her — of leaving the house wdtli Mr. Mount- 
 joy. Mrs. Vimpany seized her husband in- 
 dignantly by the arm. 
 
 ' You brute, you have spoilt everything ! ' 
 she said to him. ' Apologise directly to Mr. 
 Mountjoy. You w^on't ? ' 
 
 ' I won't I ' 
 
 Experience had taught his wdfe Iioav to 
 break liini to her AvilL ' Do you remember 
 my diamond pin? ' she whispered. 
 
 He looked startled. Perhaps he thought 
 she had lost the pin. 
 
 ' Where is it ? ' lie asked eagerly. 
 
MR. VI MP ANY ON INTOXICATION 219 
 
 ' Gone to London to be valued. Beg Mr. 
 Mountjoy's pardon, or I will put the money in 
 the bank — and not one shilling of it do you 
 get.' 
 
 In the meanwhile, Iris had justified Mrs. 
 Vimpany's apprehensions. Her indignation 
 noticed nothing but the insult offered to 
 Hugh. She was too seriously agitated to 
 be able to speak to him. Still admir- 
 ably calm, his one anxiety was to compose 
 her. 
 
 'Don't be afraid,' he said; 'it is impossible 
 that I can degrade myself by quarrelling with 
 Mr. Yimpany. I only wait liere to know 
 what you propose to do. You have Mrs. 
 Yimpany to think of.' 
 
 ' I have nobody to think of but You,' Iris 
 replied. ' But for me, j^ou would never have 
 been in this house. After tlie insult that has 
 been offered to you — oh, Hugh, I feel it too! 
 — let us return to London together. I have 
 
220 BLIND LOVE 
 
 only to tell Ehoda we are going away, and to 
 make my preparations for travelling. Send 
 for me from the inn, and 1 will be ready in 
 time for tlie next train.' 
 
 Mrs. Vimpany approached Moimtjoy, 
 leading her husband. 
 
 ' Sorry I have offended you,' the doctor 
 said. ' Beg your pardon. It's only a joke. 
 No offence, I hope ? ' 
 
 His servility was less endurable than his 
 insolence. Telhng him that he need say no 
 more, Monntjoy bowed to Mrs. Yimpany, and 
 left the room. She returned his bow me- 
 chanically, in silence. Mr. Vimpany followed 
 Hugh out — thinking of the diamond pin, and 
 eager to open the house door, as another 
 act of submission Avhich might satisfy his 
 wife. 
 
 Even a clever woman Avill occasionally 
 make mistakes ; especially when her temper 
 happens to have been roused. Mrs. Yimpany 
 
MR. VIMPAAY Oy IXTOXICATION 211 
 
 found herself in a false position, due entirely 
 to her own imprudence. 
 
 She had been guilty of three serious 
 errors. In the first place, she Iiad taken it 
 I'or granted that Mr. Yimpany's restorative 
 mixture would completely revive the sober 
 state of his brains. In the second place, she 
 had trusted him Avitli her vengeance on the 
 man who had found his way to her secrets 
 through her husband's intemperance. In the 
 third place, she had rashly assumed that the 
 doctor, in carrying out her instructions for 
 insulting Mountjoy, would keep within the 
 limits whicli she had prescribed to him, when 
 she hit on the audacious idea of attributing 
 his disgraceful conduct to the temptation 
 offered by his host's example. As a conse- 
 quence of these acts of imprudence, she had 
 exposed herself to a misfortune that she 
 iionestly dreaded — the loss of the place which 
 she had carefully maintained in Miss Henley's 
 
222 BLIND LOVE 
 
 estimation. In the contradictory confusion of 
 feelings, so often found in women, this deceit- 
 ful and dangerous creature had been con- 
 quered — little by little, as she had herself 
 described it — by that charm of sweetness and 
 simplicity in Iris, of which her own de- 
 praved nature presented no trace. She now 
 spoke with hesitation, almost with timidity, 
 in addressing the woman whom she had so 
 cleverly deceived, at the time when they first 
 met. 
 
 ' Must I give up all. Miss Henley, that I 
 most value ? ' she asked. 
 
 'I hardly understand you, Mrs. Yimpany.' 
 
 ' I will try to make it plainer. Do you 
 really mean to leave me, this evening ? ' 
 
 ' I do.' 
 
 ' May I own that I am grieved to hear it? 
 Your departure will deprive me of some 
 happy hours, in your company.' 
 
MR. VIM P ANY ON INTOXICATION 223 
 
 ' Your husband's conduct leaves me no 
 alternative,' Iris replied. 
 
 ' Pray do not humiliate me by speaking of 
 my liusband ! I only want to know if there 
 is a harder trial of my fortitude still to come. 
 Must I lose the privilege of being your friend?' 
 
 ' I hope I am not capable of such injustice 
 as that,' Iris declared. ' It Avould be liard 
 indeed to lay the blame of Mr. Vimpany's 
 shameful behaviour on you. I don't forget 
 that you made him offer an apology. Some 
 women, married to such a man as tJiat, might 
 have been afraid of him. No, no ; you have 
 been a good fi'iend to me — and I mean to 
 remember it.' 
 
 Mrs. Yimpany's gratitude was too sincerely 
 felt to be expressed with lier customary 
 readiness. She only said wJiat the stupidest 
 woman in existence coidd have said : 'Thank 
 you.' 
 
224 BLIND LOVE 
 
 111 tlie silence tliat followed, the rapid 
 movement of carriage-wheels became audible 
 in the street. The sound stopped at the door 
 of the doctor's house. 
 
225 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE MOCKERY OF DECEIT 
 
 ^AD Momitjoy arrived to take Iris 
 away, before her preparations for 
 travelling were complete? Both 
 the ladies hurried to the window, but they 
 were too late. The rapid visitor, already 
 liidden from them under the portico, was 
 knocking smartly at the door. In another 
 minute, a man's voice in the hall asked for 
 'Mss Henley.' The tones — clear, mellow, and 
 pleasantly varied here and there by the Irish 
 accent — were not to be mistaken by anyone 
 who had already heard tliem. The man in 
 the hall was Lord Harry. 
 
 VOL. I. Q 
 
226 BLIND LOVE 
 
 In that serious emergency, Mrs. Yimpany 
 recovered her presence of mind. 
 
 ^She made for the door, with the object 
 of speaking to Lord Harry before he could 
 present himself in the drawing-room. But 
 Iris had heard him ask for her in the hall ; 
 and that one circumstance instantly stripped 
 of its concealments the character of the 
 woman in whose integrity she had believed. 
 Her first impression of Mrs. Yimpany — so 
 sincerely repented, so eagerly atoned for — 
 had been the right impression after all ! 
 Younger, ligliter, and quicker tlinn the doc- 
 tor's wife, Iris reached tlie door first, and laid 
 her hand on the lock. 
 
 ' Wait a minute,' she said. 
 
 Mrs. Yimpany hesitated. For the first 
 time in lier life at a loss wliat to say, slie 
 could only sign to Iris to stand back. Iris 
 refused to move, t^lie put lier tei'rible ques- 
 tion in the plainest words : 
 
THE MOCKERY OF DECEIT 227 
 
 ' How does Lord Harry know that I am 
 in this house ? ' 
 
 The wretched woman (Hstening intently 
 for the sound of a step on the stairs) refused 
 to submit to a shameful exposure, even now. 
 To her perverted moral sense, any falsehood 
 was acceptable, as a means of hiding herself 
 from discovery by Iris. In the very face of 
 detection, the skilled deceiver kept up the 
 mockery of deceit. 
 
 ' My dear,' she said, ' what has come to 
 you ? Why won't you let me go to my 
 room ? ' 
 
 Iris eyed her with a look of scornful sur- 
 prise. ' What next ? ' she said. ' Are you 
 impudent enough to pretend that I have not 
 found you out, yet ? ' 
 
 Sheer desperation still sustained Mrs. 
 Yimpany's courage. She played her assumed 
 character against the contemptuous incre- 
 dulity of Iris, as she luxd sometimes played 
 
 Q 2 
 
228 BLIND LOVE 
 
 her theatrical characters agamst the hissing 
 and hooting of a brutal audience. 
 
 ' Miss Henley,' she said, ' you forget your- 
 self!' 
 
 ' Do you think I didn't see in your face,' 
 Iris rejoined, 'that you heard him, too? 
 Answer my question.' 
 
 'What question ? ' 
 
 ' You have just heard it.' 
 
 ' No ! ' 
 
 ' You false woman ! ' 
 
 ' Don't forget. Miss Henley, that you are 
 speaking to a lady.' 
 
 ' I am speaking to Lord Harry's spy ! ' 
 
 Their voices rose loud : the excitement on 
 either side had readied its climax ; neither 
 the one nor the other was composed enough 
 to notice the sound of the carriage-wheels, 
 leaving the house again. In tlie meanwhile, 
 nobody came to the drawing-room door. 
 
THE MOCKERY OF DECEIT 229 
 
 Mrs. Yimpany wa^ too well acquainted with 
 the hot-headed Irish lord not to conclude that 
 he would have made himself heard, and 
 would have found his w^ay to Iris, but for 
 some obstacle, below stairs, for which he was 
 not prepared. The doctor's wife did justice 
 to the doctor at last. Another person had, 
 in all probabihty, heard Lord Harry's voice 
 — and that person might have been her 
 husband. 
 
 Was it possible that he remembered the 
 service wdiich she had asked of him ; and, 
 even if he had succeeded in calling it to 
 mind, was his discretion to be trusted ? As 
 those questions occurred to her, the desire to 
 obtain some positive information was more 
 than she was able to resist. Mrs. Yimpany 
 attempted to leave the drawing-room for the 
 second time. 
 
 But the same motive had already urged 
 
230 BLIND LOVE . 
 
 Miss Ilcnlcy to action. Again, tlie youiigoi- 
 woman outstripped the elder. Iris descended 
 the stairs, resolved to discover the cause of 
 the sudden suspension of events in the lower 
 part of the house. 
 
^^l 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 MRS. YIMPAXYS FAREWELTi 
 
 THE doctor's wife . 
 followed Miss 
 Henley out of the 
 room, as far as 
 the landini^ — and 
 waited there. 
 
 She had her- 
 ? reasons for placing 
 ^' this restraint on 
 jfef*-^ herself. The posi- 
 -*^'^'^ tion of the landing 
 concealed her from the 
 view of a person in the 
 lall. If she only lis- 
 tened for the sound of 
 
232 BLIND LOVE 
 
 voices she might safely discover whether 
 Lord Harry was, or was not, still in the 
 house. In the first event, it would be easy 
 to interrupt his interview with Iris, before 
 the talk could lead to disclosures which Mrs. 
 Vimpany had every reason to dread. In the 
 second event, there would be no need to 
 show herself. 
 
 Meanwhile, Iris opened the dining-room 
 door and looked in. 
 
 Nobody was there. The one other room 
 on the ground floor, situated at the back of 
 the building, was the doctor's consulting- 
 room. She knocked at the door. Mr. 
 Vimpany 's voice answered : ' Come in.' There 
 he was alone, drinking brandy and water, 
 and smoking his big black cigar. 
 
 ' Where is Lord Harry ? ' she said. 
 
 ' In Ireland, I suppose,' Mr. Vimpany 
 answered quietly. 
 
 Iris wasted no time in making useless 
 
MRS. VIMPANV'S FAREWELL 233 
 
 inquiries. She closed the door again, and 
 left him. He, too, was undoubtedly in the 
 conspiracy to keep lier deceived. How had 
 it been done? Where Avas the wild lord, at 
 that moment ? 
 
 Whilst she was pursuing these reflections 
 in the hall, Ehoda came up from the servants' 
 tea-table in tlie kitchen. Her mistress gave 
 her the necessary instructions for packing, 
 and promised to help her before long. Mrs. 
 Vimpany's audacious resolution to dispute the 
 evidence of her own senses, still dwelt on Miss 
 Henley's mind. Too angry to think of the 
 embarrassment which an interview with Lord 
 Harry would produce, after they had said 
 tlieir farewell words in Ireland, she was 
 determined to prevent the doctor's wife from 
 speaking to him first, and claiming him as an 
 accomplice in her impudent denial of the 
 truth. If he liad been, by any chance, 
 deluded into leavini*; tlie house, he would 
 
234 BLIND LOVE 
 
 sooner or later discover the trick tliat liad 
 been played on liim, and would certainly 
 return. Iris took a chair m tlie hall. 
 
 It is due to the doctor to relate that he 
 had indeed justified his wife's confidence in 
 hira. 
 
 The diamond pin, undergoing valuation 
 in London, still represented a present terror 
 in his mind. The money, the money — he was 
 the most attentive husband in England wdien 
 he thought of the money ! At the time when 
 Lord Harry's carriage stopped at his house- 
 door, lie was in the dining-room, taking a 
 bottle of l)i'andy from the cellaret in the- side- 
 board. Looking instantly out of the window, 
 he discovered who the visitor was, and de- 
 cided on consulting his instructions in the 
 pocket-diary. The attempt was rendered 
 useless, as soon as he had opened the book, 
 by the unlucky activity of the servant in 
 
MA'S. VIMPANV'S FAREWl-lLL 235 
 
 answering tlie door. llcr master stopped 
 lier in the liall. Tie was ])leasantly conscious 
 of the recovery of liis cunning. But his 
 memory (far from active under tlie most 
 favourable circumstances) was slower than 
 ever at helping him now. On the spur of the 
 moment, he could only call to mind that he 
 had been ordered to prevent a meeting 
 between Lord Ilarry and Iris. ' Show the 
 gentleman into my consulting-room,' he said. 
 
 Lord Harry found the doctor enthroned 
 on liis professional chair, surprised and de- 
 lighted to see his distinguished friend. The 
 impetuous Lishman at once asked for Miss 
 Henley. 
 
 ' Gone,' Mr. Yimpany answered. 
 
 ' Gone — where P ' the wild lord wanted to 
 know next. 
 
 ' To London.' 
 
 'By herself?' ' 
 
 ' Xo ; with Mr. Ilugli Mountjoy.' 
 
236 BLIND LOVE 
 
 Lord Harry seized tlie doctor by the 
 shoulders, and shook hmi : ' You don't mean 
 to tell nie Mountjoy is going to marry 
 her ? ' . 
 
 Mr. Yimpany feared nothing but the loss 
 of money. The weaker and the older man of 
 the two, he nevertheless followed the young 
 lord's example, and shook him with right 
 good- wall. ' Let's see how you like it, in 
 your turn,' he said. ' As for Mountjoy, I 
 don't know whether he is married or single — ' 
 and don't care.' 
 
 ' The devil take your obstinacy ! When 
 did they start ? ' 
 
 ' The devil take your questions ! They 
 started not long since.' 
 
 ' Might I catch them at the station ? ' 
 
 ' Yes ; if vou c^o at once.' 
 
 So the desperate doctor carried out his 
 wife's instructions — -without rememberinor the 
 
 o 
 
 conditions wdiich liad accompanied them. 
 
MRS. VIMPANY'S FAREWELL 237 
 
 The way to tlie station took Lord Harry- 
 past tlie inn. He saw Hugh Mountjoy, 
 through the open house door, paying his bill 
 •at the bar. In an instant tlie carriage was 
 stopped, and the two men (never on friendly 
 terms) were formally bowing to each other. 
 
 ' I was told I should find you,' Lord Harry 
 said, ' with Miss Henley, at the station.' 
 
 ' Who gave you your information ? ' 
 
 ' Yimpany — the doctor.' 
 
 ' He ought to know that the train isn't 
 due at the station for an hour yet.' 
 
 ' Has the blackguard deceived me ? One 
 word more, Mr. Mountjoy. Is Miss Henley 
 at the inn ? ' 
 
 'No.' 
 
 ' Are you going with her to London ? ' 
 
 ' I must leave Miss Henley to answer 
 that.' 
 
 ' Where is she, sir P ' 
 
 ' There is an end to everything, my lord, 
 
238 BLIND LOVE 
 
 in the world we live in. You liave reached 
 the end of my readiness to answer questions.' 
 The Englishman and tlie Irishman looked 
 at each other : the Anglo-Saxon was impene- 
 trably cool ; the Celt was fiuslied and angry. 
 They might have been on the brink of a 
 quarrel, but for Lord Harry's native quick- 
 ness of perception, and his exercise of it at 
 that moment. When he had called at Mr. 
 Vimpany's house, and had asked for Iris, the 
 doctor had got rid of him by means of a lie. 
 After this discovery, at what conclusion could 
 he arrive ? The doctor was certainly keeping 
 Iris out of his way. Eeasoning in this rapid 
 manner, Lord Harry let one offence pass, in 
 his headlon<^ eagerness to resent another. He 
 instantly left Mountjoy. Again, the carriage 
 rattled back aloncf the street ; but it was 
 stopped before it readied Mr. Vimpany's 
 door. 
 
 Lord Harry knew the people whom he 
 
MK:^. VIMP AMY'S FAREWELL 230 
 
 had to (leal with, and took measures to 
 approach the house silently, on foot. The 
 coachman received orders to look out for a 
 signal, which should tell him when he was 
 wanted again. 
 
 Mr. Yimpany's ears, vigilantly on the 
 watcli for suspicious events, detected no 
 sound of carriage-wheels and no noisy use of 
 the knocker. Still on his guard, however, a 
 ring at the house-bell disturbed him in liis 
 consulting-room. Peeping into the hall, he 
 saw Iris opening the door, and stole back to 
 liis room. ' Tlie devil take her!' he said, 
 alhuling to Miss Henley, and thinking of the 
 enviable proprietor of tlie diamond pin. 
 
 At tlie unexpected apj)carance of Iris, 
 Lord Harry forgot every consideration which 
 ouglit to liave been present to his mind, at 
 that critical moment. 
 
 He advanced to lier witli both liands lield 
 out in cordial irreetino-. She sijined to him 
 
240 BLIND LOVE 
 
 contemptuously to stand back — and spoke in 
 tones cautiously lowered, after a glance at tlie 
 door of the consulting-room. 
 
 ' My only reason for consenting to see 
 you,' she said, ' is to protect myself from 
 further deception. Your disgraceful conduct 
 is known to me. Go now,' she continued, 
 pointing to the stairs, ' and consult with your 
 spy, as soon as you like.' The Irish lord 
 listened^guiltily conscious of having deserved 
 what she had said to him — without attempt- 
 ing to utter a word in excuse. 
 
 Still posted at the head of the stairs, the 
 doctor's wife heard Iris speaking ; but the 
 tone was not loud enough to make the words 
 intelhgible at that distance ; neither was any 
 other voice audible in reply. Vaguely sus- 
 picious of some act of domestic treachery, 
 Mrs. Yimpany began to descend the stairs. 
 At the turning: which o^ave her a view of tlie 
 hall, she stopped ; thunderstruck by the dis- 
 
MRS. VIMPANY'S FAREWELL 241 
 
 CO very of Lord HaiTy and Miss Henley, 
 together. 
 
 The presence of a third person seemed, in 
 some degree, to reheve Lord Harry. He ran 
 upstairs to salute Mrs. Yimpany, and was met 
 again by a cold reception and a hostile look. 
 
 Strongly and strangely contrasted, the two 
 confronted each other on the stairs. The 
 faded woman, wan and ghastly under cruel 
 stress of mental suffering, stood face to face 
 with a line, tall, lithe man, in the prime of his 
 health and strength. Here were the bright 
 blue eyes, the winning smile, and the natural 
 grace of movement, which find their own way 
 to favour in the estimation of the gentler 
 sex. This irreclaimable wanderer among the 
 perilous by-ways of the earth — christened 
 ' Irish blackguard,' among respectable mem- 
 bers of society, when they spoke of him 
 behind his back — attracted attention, even 
 among the men. Looking at his daring, finely- 
 
 VOL. I. R 
 
242 BLIND LOVE 
 
 formed face, they noticed (as an exception 
 to a general rule, in these days) the total 
 suppression, by the razor, of whiskers, 
 moustache, and beard. Strangers wondered 
 whether Lord Harry was an actor or a Eoman 
 Catholic priest. Among chance acquaintances, 
 those few favourites of Nature who are 
 possessed of active brains, guessed that his 
 life of adventure might Avell have rendered 
 disguise necessary to his safety, in more than 
 one part of the world. Sometimes they 
 boldly put the question to him. The hot 
 temper of an Irishman, in moments of excite- 
 ment, is not infrequently a sweet temper in 
 moments of' calm. What they called Lord 
 Harry's good-nature owned readily that he 
 had been indebted, on certain occasions, to 
 tlie protection of a false beard, and perhaps a 
 colouring of his face and hair to match. The 
 same easy disposition now asserted itself, 
 under the merciless enmity of Mrs. Yimpany's 
 
MRS. VIMPANV'S FAREWELL 243 
 
 eyes. ' If I have done anything to offend 
 you,' he said, with an air of puzzled Juimihty, 
 ' I'm sure I am sorry for it. Don't be angry, 
 Arabella, with an old friend. Wliy won't 
 you shake hands? ' 
 
 ' I have kept your secret, and done your 
 dirty work,' Mrs. Yimpany replied. 'And' 
 what is my reward ? Miss Henley can tell 
 you how your Irish blundering has ruined me 
 in a lady's estimation. Shake hands, indeed ? 
 You will never shake hands with Me again as 
 long as you live ! ' 
 
 She said those words without looking? at 
 him ; her eyes were resting on Iris now. 
 From the moment when she had seen the two 
 together, she knew that it was all over ; 
 further denial in the face of plain proofs 
 would be useless indeed ! Submission was 
 the one alternative left. 
 
 ' Miss Henley,' she said, ' if you can feel 
 pity for another woman's sorrow and shame, 
 
 R id 
 
244 BLIND LOVE 
 
 let me have a last word with you — out of this 
 man's hearinir.' 
 
 There was nothing artificial in her tones 
 or her looks ; no acting could have imitated 
 the sad sincerity with which she spoke. 
 Touched by that cliange, Iris accompanied 
 her as she ascended the stairs. After a little 
 hesitation, Lord Harry followed them. Mrs* 
 Yimpany turned on him Avhen they reached 
 the drawinfT-room landini^. ' Must I shut the 
 door in your face ? ' she asked. 
 
 He was as pleasantly patient as ever : 
 ' You needn't take the trouble to do that, 
 my dear ; I'll only ask your leave to sit down 
 and wait on the stairs. When you have done 
 with Miss Henley, just call me in. And, by 
 the way, don't be alarmed in case of a little 
 noise — say a heavy man tumbling downstairs. 
 If the blackguard it's your misfortune to be 
 married to happens to show himself, I shall be 
 under the necessity of kicking, him. That's all.' 
 
JIIA'S. VIMPANY'S FAREWELL 245 
 
 Mrs. Vimpany closed the door. She 
 spoke to Iris respectfully, as she might have 
 addressed a stranger occupying a higher rank 
 in life than herself. 
 
 'There is an end, madam, to our short 
 acquaintance ; and, as we botli know, an end 
 to it for ever. When we first met — let me 
 tell the truth at last ! — I felt a malicious 
 pleasure in deceiving you. After that time, 
 I was surprised to find that you grew on my 
 liking. Can you understand the wickedness 
 that tried to resist you ? It was useless ; 
 your good influence has been too strong for 
 me. Strange, isn't it ? I have lived a life of 
 deceit, among bad people. What could you 
 expect of me, after that ? I heaped lies on 
 lies — I would have denied that the sun was 
 in the heavens — rather than find myself de- 
 graded in your opinion. Well ! that is all 
 over — useless, quite useless now. Pray don't 
 mistake me. I am not attempting to excuse 
 
246 BLIND LOVE 
 
 myself ; a confession was due to you ; the 
 confession is made. It is too late to hope 
 that you will forgive me. If you will permit 
 it, I have only one favour to ask. Forget 
 me.' 
 
 She turned away with a last hopeless look, 
 which said as plainly as if in words : ' I am 
 not worth a reply.' 
 
 Generous Iris insisted on speaking to her. 
 
 ' I believe you are truly sorry for what 
 you have done,' she said : ' I can never forget 
 that — I can never forget You.' She held out 
 lier pitying hand. Mrs. Yimpany was too 
 bitterly conscious of the past to touch it. 
 Even a spy is not beneath the universal reach 
 of the heartache. There were tears in the 
 miserable woman's eyes when she had looked 
 her last at Iris Henley. 
 
247 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 LORD Harry's defexce 
 
 FTER a sliort inter- 
 val, the drawing- 
 room door was 
 opened again. 
 ilh Waiting on 
 the thresliold 
 the Iridi Icid 
 
 7^ ji, asked if 
 
 r-f// V\\\Tl, , 
 
 he might 
 
 come in. 
 
 Iris rc- 
 
 phed. coldly. 
 
 ' This is not 
 
 my house, 
 
248 BLIND LOVE 
 
 she said ; ' I must leave you to decide for 
 yourself.' 
 
 Lord Harry crossed tlie room to speak to 
 her — and stopped. There was no sign of 
 relenting towards him in that dearly-loved 
 face. ' I wonder whether it would be a relief 
 to you,' he suggested with piteous liumility, 
 ' if I went away ? ' 
 
 If she ]iad been true to herself, she would 
 have said, Yes. Where is the woman to be 
 found, in her place, with a heart hard enough 
 to have set her that example P Slie pointed 
 to a chair. lie felt her indulgence gratefully. 
 Following the impulse of the moment, lie 
 attempted to excuse his conduct. 
 
 ' Tliere is only one thing I can say for 
 myself,' he confessed, ' I didn't begin by de- 
 ceiving you. While you liad your eye on 
 me. Iris, I was an honourable man.' 
 
 This extraordinary defence reduced her to 
 silence. Was there another man in the world 
 
LORD HARRY'S DEFENCE 249 
 
 who would have pleaded for pardon in that 
 way ? ' I'm afraid I have not made myself 
 understood,' he said. ' May I try again ? ' 
 
 ' If you please.' 
 
 Tlie vagabond nobleman made a resolute 
 effort to explain himself intelligibly, this 
 time : 
 
 ' See now^ ! We said good-b3^e, over there, 
 in tlie poor old island. Well, indeed I meant 
 it, when I owned that I was unwortliy of you. 
 I didn't contradict you, when you said 3'ou 
 could never be my wife, after such a life as I 
 have led. And, do remember, I submitted to 
 your returning to England, witliout presuming 
 to make a complaint. Ah, my sweet girl, 
 it was easy to submit, while I could look at 
 you, and hear the sound of your voice, and 
 beo' for that last kiss — and o-et it. Eeverend 
 gentlemen talk about the fall of Adam. "What 
 was that to the fall of Harry, wlien he was 
 back in his own little cottage, without the 
 
250 BLIND LOVE 
 
 hope of ever seeing you again ? To the best 
 of ni}^ recollection, the serpent that tempted 
 Eve was up a tree. ' I found the serpent that 
 tempted Me, sitting waiting in my own arm- 
 cliair, and bent on nothing worse than borrow- 
 ing a trifle of money. Need I say who she 
 was? I don't doubt that you think her a 
 wicked woman.' 
 
 Never ready in sj)eaking of acts of kind- 
 ness, on her own part, Iris answered with 
 some little reserve : ' I have learnt to think 
 better of Mrs. Yimpany than you suppose.' 
 
 Lord Harry began to look like a happy 
 man, for the first time since he iiad entered 
 the room. 
 
 ' I ought to have known it ! ' he burst out. 
 'Yours is the well-balanced mind, dear, tliat 
 tempers justice with mercy. j\ [other Yimpany 
 lias liad a hard life of it. Just change places 
 with her for a minute or so — a'nd you'll 
 understand wliat slie has had to ao throujzh. 
 
LORD HARRY'S DEFENCE 251 
 
 Find yourself, for instance, in Ireland, with- 
 out the means to take you back to England. 
 Add to that, a liusband who sends you away 
 to make money for him at the theatre, and a 
 manager (not an Irishman, thank Gocl !) who 
 refuses to engage you — afcer your acting has 
 filled his dirty pockets in past days — because 
 your beauty has faded with time. Doesn't 
 your bright imagination see it all now? My 
 old friend Arabella, ready and anxious to 
 serve me — and a sinking at this poor fellow's 
 heart when he knew, if he once lost the trace 
 of you, he might lose it for ever — there's the 
 situation, as they call it on the stage. I wish 
 I could say for myself what I may say for 
 Mrs. Yimpany. It's such a pleasure to a 
 clever woman to engage in a little deceit— we 
 can't blame her, can we ? ' 
 
 Iris protested gently against a code of 
 morality which included the right of deceit 
 among the privileges of the sex. Lord Harry 
 
252 BLIND LOVE 
 
 slipped through her fingers with the admirable 
 Irish readiness ; he agreed with Miss Henley 
 that he was entirely wrong. 
 
 ' And don't spare me while you're about 
 it,' he suggested. ' Lay all the blame of that 
 shameful stratagem on my shoulders. It was 
 a despicable thing to do. When I had you 
 watched, I acted in a manner — I won't say 
 unworthy of a gentleman ; have I been a 
 gentleman since I first ran away from home ? 
 Why, it's even been said my Avay of speaking 
 is no longer the way of a gentleman ; and 
 small wonder, too, after the company I've 
 kept. Ah, w^ell ! I'm off again, darling, on a 
 sea voyage. Will you forgive me now ? or 
 will you wait till I come back, if I do come 
 back ? God knows ! ' He dropped on his 
 knees, and kissed lier hand. ' Anyway,' he 
 said, ' whether I live or whether I die, it will 
 be some consolation to remember that I asked 
 your pardon — and perhaps got it.' 
 
LORD HARRY'S DEFENCE 253 
 
 ' Take it, Harry ; I can't help forgiving 
 
 you ! ' 
 
 She had done her best to resist him, and 
 she had answered in tliose merciful words. 
 
 The effect was visible, perilously visible, as 
 he rose from his knees. Her one chance of 
 keeping the distance between them, on which 
 she had been too weak to insist, was not to 
 encourage him by silence. Abruptly, des- 
 perately, she made a commonplace inquiry 
 about his proposed voyage. ' Tell me,' she 
 resumed, ' where are you going when you 
 leave England ? ' 
 
 ' Oh, to find money, dear, if I can — to 
 pick up diamonds, or to hit on a mine of gold, 
 and so forth.' 
 
 The fine observation of Iris detected some- 
 thing not quite easy in his manner, as he 
 made that reply. He tried to change the 
 subject: she deliberately returned to it. 
 'Your account of your travelling-plans is 
 
254 BLIND LOVE 
 
 rather vague,' she told him. ' Do 3^011 know 
 when you are hkely to return P ' 
 
 He took her hand. One of the rings on 
 her fingers happened to be turned the wrong 
 way. He set it in the right position, and dis- 
 covered an opaL ' Ah ! the unlucky stone ! ' 
 he cried, and turned it back again out of 
 sight. She drew away her hand. ' I asked 
 you,' she persisted, 'when you expect to 
 return ? ' 
 
 He laughed — not so gaily as usual. 
 
 ' How do I know I shall ever get back .^ ' 
 he answered. ' Sometimes the seas turn 
 traitor, and sometimes the savages. I have 
 had so many narrow escapes of my life, I can't 
 expect my luck to last for ever.' He made 
 a second attempt to change the subject. ' I 
 wonder whether you're likely to pay another 
 visit to Ireland ? My cottage is entirely at 
 your disposal, Iris dear. Oh, when I'm out 
 of the way, of course ! The place seemed to 
 
LORD HARRY'S DEFENCE 255 
 
 please your fancy, when you saw it. You 
 will find it well taken care of, I answer for 
 that.' 
 
 Iris asked vvlio was taking care of liis 
 cottage ? 
 
 The wild lord's face saddened. He hesi- 
 tated ; rose from his chair ]-estlessly, and 
 walked away to the window ; returned, and 
 made up his mind to reply. 
 
 ' My dear, you know her. She was the 
 old housekeeper at ' 
 
 His voice failed him. He was unable, or 
 unwilling, to pronounce the name of Arthur's 
 farm. 
 
 Knowing, it is needless to say, that he 
 had alluded to Mrs. Lewson, Iris warmly 
 commended him fo-r takins^ care of her old 
 nurse. At the same time, she remembered 
 the unfriendly terms in which the house- 
 keeper had alluded to Lord Harry, when they 
 had talked of him. 
 
256 BLIND LOVE 
 
 ' Did you iincl no difficulty,' she asked, ' in 
 persuading Mrs. Lewson to enter your ser- 
 vice ? ' 
 
 ' Oh, yes, plenty of difficulty ; I found my 
 bad character in my way, as usual; It was 
 a relief to him, at that moment, to talk of 
 Mrs. Lewson ; the Irish humour and the Irisli 
 accent both asserted themselves in his reply. 
 ' The curious old creature told me to my face 
 I was a scamp. I took leave to remind her 
 that it was the duty of a respectable person 
 like herself, to reform scamps ; I also men- 
 tioned that I was going away, and she would 
 be master and mistress too on my small 
 property. That softened her heart towards 
 me. You will mostly find old women amenable, 
 if you get at them by way of their dignity. 
 Besides, there was another lucky circumstance 
 that helped me. The neighbourhood of my 
 cottage has some attraction for Mrs. Lewson. 
 
LORD HARRY'S DEFENCE 257 
 
 She didn't say particularly what it was — and 
 I never asked her to tell me.' 
 
 ' Surely you might have guessed it, with- 
 out being told,' Iris reminded him. ' Mrs. 
 Lewson's faithful heart loves poor Arthur's 
 memory — and Arthur's grave is not far from 
 your cottage.' 
 
 ' Don't speak of him ! ' 
 
 It was said loudly, peremptorily, passion- 
 ately. He looked at her with angry astonish- 
 ment in his face. ' You loved him too ! ' he 
 said. 'Can you speak of him quietly? The 
 noblest, truest, sweetest man that ever the 
 Heavens looked on, foully assassinated. And 
 the wretch who murdered him still livinQ- 
 free — oh, what is God's providence about ? — - 
 is there no retribution that will follow him ? no 
 just hand that will revenge Arthur's death? ' 
 
 As those fierce words escaped him, he was 
 no longer the easv, gentle, joyous creature 
 
 VOL. L S 
 
2 58 BLIND LOVE 
 
 wliom Iris had known and loved. The furious 
 passions of the Celtic race glittered savagely 
 in his eyes, and changed to a grey horrid pallor 
 the healthy colour that was natural to his 
 face. ' Oh, my temper, my temper ! ' he 
 cried, as Iris shrank from him. ' She hates 
 me now, and no wonder.' He staggered away 
 from her, and burst into a convulsive fit of 
 crying, dreadful to hear. Compassion, divine 
 compassion, mastered the earthlier emotion of 
 terror in the great heart of the woman who 
 loved him. She followed him, and laid her 
 hand caressingly oli his shoulder. ' I don't 
 hate you, my dear,' she said. 'I am sorry 
 for Arthur — and, oh, so sorry for You ! ' He 
 caught her in his arms. His gratitude, his 
 repentance, his silent farewell were all ex- 
 pressed in a last kiss. It was a moment, 
 never to be forgotten to the end of their lives. 
 Before she could speak, before she could 
 think, he had left her. 
 
LORD HARRY'S DEFENCE 259 
 
 She called liiiii back, through the open 
 door. He never returned ; he never even 
 replied. She ran to the window, and threw it 
 up — and was just in time to see him signal to 
 the carriage and leap into it. Her horror of 
 the fatal purpose that was but too plainly 
 rooted in him — her conviction that he was on 
 the track of the assassin, self-devoted to exact 
 the terrible penalty of blood for blood — em- 
 boldened her to insist on being heard. ' Come 
 back,' she cried. ' I must, I will, speak with 
 you.' • 
 
 He waved his hand to her with a gesture 
 of despair. ' Start your horses,' he shouted 
 to the coachman. Alarmed by his voice and 
 his look, the man asked where he should 
 drive to. Lord Harry pointed furiously to 
 the onward road. ' Drive,' he answered, ' to 
 the Devil ! ' 
 
 THE END OF THE FlKbT PEKIOD 
 
26o BLIND LOVE 
 
 SECOND PEBIOD 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 IRIS AT HOME 
 
 LITTLE more than four months had 
 passed, since the return of Iris to 
 her father's house. 
 Among other events which occurred, 
 during the earher part of that interval, the 
 course adopted by Hugh Mountjoy when Miss 
 Henley's suspicions of the Irisli lord were first 
 communicated to him, claims a foremost 
 place. 
 
 It was impossible that the devoted friend 
 of Iris could look at her, when they met again 
 on their way to the station, without perceiving 
 
IJ^/S AT HOME 26 r 
 
 the signs of serious agitation. Only waiting 
 until they were alone in the railway carriage 
 she opened her heart unreservedly to the man 
 in whose clear intellect and true sympathy slie 
 could repose implicit trust. He listened to 
 what she could repeat of Lord Harry's lan- 
 guage with but little appearance of surprise. 
 Iris had only reminded him of one, among the 
 disclosures which had escaped Mr. Yimpany 
 at the inn. Under the irresistible influence 
 of good wine, the doctor had revealed the 
 Irish lord's motive for remaining; in his own 
 country, after the assassination of Arthur 
 Mountjoy. Hugh met the only difficulty in 
 his way, without shrinking from it. He 
 resolved to clear his mind of its natural pre- 
 judice against the rival who had been pre- 
 ferred to him, before he assumed the responsi- 
 bility of guiding Ii'is by his advice. 
 
 When he had in some deo'ree recovered 
 confidence in his own unbiassed judgment, he 
 
262 BLIND LOVE 
 
 entered on tlie question of Lord Harry's 
 purpose in leaving England. 
 
 Without attempting to dispute tlie con- 
 clusion at wliicli Iris had arrived, he did his 
 best to alleviate her distress. In his opinion, 
 he was careful to tell her, a discovery of 
 the destination to which Lord Harry pro- 
 posed to betake himself might be achieved. 
 The Irish lord's allusion to a new adventure 
 which would occupy him in searching for dia- 
 monds or gold, might indicate a contemplated 
 pursuit of the assassin, as well as a plausible 
 excuse to satisfy Iris. It was at least possible 
 that the murderer might have been warned of 
 his danger if he remained in England, and 
 that lie might have contemplated directing his 
 flight to a distant country, which would not only 
 offer a safe refuge, but also hold out (in its 
 mineral treasures) a hope of gain. Assuming 
 that tliese circumstances had really happened, 
 it was in Lord Harry's character to make sure 
 
IRIS AT HOME 263 
 
 of liis revenge, by embarking in llie steam-sliip 
 by wliicli the assassin of Arthur Mountjoy 
 was a passenger. 
 
 Wild as this <]fiiess at tlie truth unclonbtedly 
 was, it had one merit : it might easily be put 
 to the test. 
 
 Hugh had bought the day's newspaper, 
 at the station. He proposed to consult the 
 shipping advertisements relating, in tlie first 
 place, to communication with the diamond- 
 mines and tlie gold-fields of South Africa. 
 
 This course of proceeding at once in- 
 formed him that the first steamer, bound for 
 that destination, would sail from London in 
 two days' time. The obvious precaution to 
 take was to have the Docks watched ; and 
 Mountjoy 's steady old servant, who knew 
 Lord Harry by sight, was the man to employ. 
 
 Iris naturally inquired what good end 
 could be attained, if the anticipated discovery 
 actually took place. 
 
264 BLIND LOVE 
 
 To this Mount] oy answered, tliat the one 
 hope — a faint hope, he must needs confess — 
 of inducing Lord Harry to reconsider his 
 desperate purpose, lay in the influence of Iris 
 herself. She must address a letter to him, 
 announcing that his secret had been betrayed 
 by his own language and conduct, and declar- 
 ing that she would never again see him, or 
 hold any communication with him, if he per- 
 sisted in his savag^e resolution of reven<?e. 
 Such was the desperate experiment which 
 Mountjoy's generous and unselfish devotion 
 to Iris now proposed to try. 
 
 The servant (duly entrusted with Miss 
 Henley's letter) was placed on the watcli 
 — and the event which had been rec^arded 
 as little better than a forlorn hope proved 
 to be the event that really took place. 
 Lord Harry was a passenger by the steam- 
 ship. 
 
 Mountjoy's man presented the letter en- 
 

 
 The wild lord read ii—lcokedito use the messenger's own words) like a man cut to the heart, 
 and seemed at a loss what to say or do. 
 
/R/S AT HOME 265 
 
 trusted to him, and asked respectfully if there 
 was any answer. The wild lord read it — 
 looked (to use the messenger's own words) 
 like a man cut to tlie heart — seemed at a loss 
 what to say or do — and only gave a verbal 
 answer; 'I sincerely thank Miss Henley, and 
 I promise to write when the sliip touches at 
 Madeira.' The servant continued to watch 
 him when he went on board the steamer ; saw 
 him cast a look backwards, as if suspecting 
 that he might have been followed ; and then 
 lost sight of him in the cabin. The vessel 
 sailed after a long interval of delay, but he 
 never reappeared on the deck. 
 
 The ambiguous messaf^e sent to her 
 aroused the resentment of Iris ; she thought it 
 cruel. For some weeks perhaps to come, 
 she was condemned to remain in doubt, and 
 was left to endure the trial of her patience, 
 without having Mountjoy at hand to en- 
 courage and console her. He had been called 
 
266 BLIND LOVE 
 
 away to the South of France 1)y tlie ilhiess of 
 his father. 
 
 But the fortunes of Miss Henley, at tliis 
 period of lier hfe, had their brighter side. 
 She found reason to conoTatuhate herself on 
 the reconcihation which had brought her 
 back to her father. Mr. Henley had received 
 her, not perhaps with affection, but certainly 
 with kindness. ' If vre don't get in each 
 other's way, Ave shall do very well; I am 
 c^lad to see you aoain.' That was all he had 
 said to her, but it meant much from a soured 
 and selfish man. 
 
 Her only domestic anxiety was caused by 
 another failure in the health of her maid. 
 
 The Doctor declared that medical help 
 woidd be of no avail, while Ehoda Bennet 
 remained in London. In the country she had 
 been born and bred, and to the country she 
 must return. Mr. Henley's large landed 
 property, on the north of London, happened 
 
IRIS AT HOME 267 
 
 to include a farm in tlie neiglibourliood of 
 Muswell Hill. Wisely waiting for a favour- 
 able opportunity, Iris alluded to the good 
 qualities which had made Rhoda almost as 
 much her friend as her servant, and asked 
 leave to remove the invalid to the healthy air 
 of the farm. 
 
 Her anxiety about tlie recovery of a ser- 
 vant so astonished Mr. Henley, that he was 
 liurried (as he afterwards declared) into 
 granting his daughter's request. After this 
 concession, the necessary arrangements were 
 easily made. The influence of Iris won the 
 good-will of the farmer and his wife ; Ehoda, 
 as an expert and willing needlewoman, being 
 sure of a welcome, for Jier own sake, in a 
 family which included a number of young 
 children. Miss Henley had only to order lier 
 carriage, and to be within reach of the farm. 
 A week seldom passed witliout a meeting 
 between the mistress and the maid. 
 
268 BLIND LOVE 
 
 In the meantime, Mountjoy (absent in 
 France) did not forget to write to Iris. 
 
 His letters offered little hope of a speedy 
 return. The doctors had not concealed from 
 him that his father's illness would end fatally ; 
 l)ut there w^ere reserves of vital power still 
 left, wdiicli might prolong the struggle. Under 
 these melancholy circumstances, he begged 
 that Iris would w^rite to him. The oftener 
 she could tell him of the little events of her 
 life at home, the more kindly she would 
 brighten the days of a dreary life. 
 
 Easrer to show, even in a triflino; matter, 
 how gratefully she appreciated Mountjoy's 
 past kindness, Iris related the simple story of 
 her life at home, in weekly letters addressed 
 to her o'ood friend. After tellincc Huo-h 
 (among other things) of Ehoda's establish- 
 ment at the farm, she had some unexpected 
 results to relate, which had followed the 
 attempt to provide herself with a new maid. 
 
IRJS AT HOME 269 
 
 Two young women liaci been successively 
 engaged — each recommended, by the lady 
 wliom she had last served, with that utter 
 disregard of moral obligation which appears 
 to be shamelessly on the mcrease hi the 
 England of our day. The first of the two 
 maids, described as ' rather excitable,' re- 
 vealed infirmities of temper which suggested 
 a lunatic asylum as the only fit place for her. 
 The second young woman, detected in steal- 
 ing eau-de- cologne, and using it (mixed with 
 water) as an intoxicating drink, claimed mer- 
 ciful construction of her misconduct, on the 
 ground that she liad been misled by the ex- 
 ample of her last mistress. 
 
 At the third attempt to ])rovide herself 
 with a servant, Iris was able to report the 
 discovery of a responsible person who told 
 the truth — an unmarried lady of middle age. 
 
 In this case, the young woman was de- 
 scribed as a servant thoroughly trained in the 
 
270 BLIXD LOVE 
 
 performance of her duties, honest, sober, 
 industrious, of an even temj)er, and unpro- 
 vided with ' a follower ' in the shape of a 
 sweetheart. Even her name sounded favour- 
 ably in the ear of a stranger — it was Fanny 
 Mere. Iris asked liov/ a servant, apparently 
 possessed of a faultless character, came to be 
 in want of a situation. At this question tlie 
 lady sighed, and acknowledged that she had 
 ' made a dreadful discovery,' relating to the 
 past life of her maid. It proved to be the old, 
 the miserably old, story of a broken promise 
 of marriage, and of the penalty paid as usual 
 by the unhappy woman. 'I will say nothing 
 of my own feelings,' the maiden lady ex- 
 plained. ' In justice to the other female 
 servants, it was impossible for me to keep 
 such a person in ni}^ house ; and, in justice to 
 you, I must most unwillingly stand in tlie 
 way of Fanny Mere's prospects by mention- 
 ing my reason for parting with her.' 
 
IRIS AT HO mi: 271 
 
 ' If I could see the young woman and speak 
 to her,' Iris said, ' I sliould Hke to decide the 
 question of engaging her, for rn3\self.' 
 
 The lady knew the address of her dis- 
 charged servant, and — with some appearance 
 of wonder — communicated it. Miss Henley 
 wrote at once, telling Fanny Mere to come to 
 lier on the following da5^ 
 
 When she woke on the next morning, later 
 than usual, an event occurred which Iris had 
 been impatiently expecting for some time 
 past. She found a letter waiting on her bed- 
 side table, side by side with her cup of tea. 
 Lord Harry had written to her at last. 
 
 . yyiietlier he used ]iis pen or his tongue, 
 the Irish lord's conduct was always more or 
 less in need of an apology. Here were tlie 
 guilty one's new excuses, expressed in his cus- 
 tomary medley of frank confession and llowery 
 lan£:juao;e : 
 
 'I am fearing, my angel, that I have 
 
272 BLIND LOVE 
 
 offended you. You liave too surely said to 
 yourself, This miserable Harry might have 
 made me happy by writing two lines — and 
 what does he do? He sends a message in 
 words which tell me nothing. 
 
 ' My sweet girl, the reason why is that I 
 was in two minds, when your man stopped 
 me on my way to the ship. 
 
 ' Whether it was best for you — I was not 
 thinking of myself — to confess the plain truth, 
 or to take refuge in affectionate equivocation, 
 was more tlian I could decide at the time. 
 When minutes are enough for your intelli- 
 gence, my stupidity wants days. Well ! I 
 saw it at last. A man owes the truth to a 
 true woman ; and you are a true woman. 
 There you find a process of reasoning — I have 
 been five days getting hold of it. 
 
 ' But tell me one tiling first. Brutus 
 killed a man ; Chai'Iotte Corday killed a man. 
 One of the two victims was a fine tvrant, and 
 
IRIS AT HOME 273 
 
 the other a mean tyrant. Nobody blames 
 those two historical assassins. Why then 
 blame me for wishing to make a third ? Is a 
 mere modern murderer beneath my vengeance, 
 by comparison with two classical tyrants who 
 did their murders by deputy? The man who 
 killed Arthur Mountjoy is (next to Cain alone) 
 the most atrocious homicide that ever trod the 
 miry ways of this earth. Tliere is my reply ! 
 I call it a crusher. 
 
 * So now my mind is easy. Darling, let 
 me make your mind easy next. 
 
 ' When I left you at the window of 
 Timpany's house, I was off to the other rail- 
 road to find the murderer in his hiding-place 
 by the seaside. He had left it ; but I got a 
 trace, and went back to London — to the 
 Docks. Some villain in Ireland, who knows 
 my purpose, must have turned traitor. Any- 
 how, the wretch has escaped me. 
 
 ^ Yes ; I searched the ship in every corner 
 
 VOL. I. T 
 
274 BLIND LOVE 
 
 He was not on board. lias lie ^^one on before 
 me, by an earlier vessel ? Or has he directed 
 his flight to some other part of the world ? I 
 shall find ont in time. His day of reckoning 
 will come, and he, too, shall know a violent 
 death ! Amen. So be it. Amen. 
 
 ' Have I done noAv ? Bear with me, gentle 
 Iris — there is a word more to come. 
 
 ' You will wonder wh}^ I went on by the 
 steam-ship — all the way to Sonth Africa — 
 when I failed to find the man I wanted, on 
 board. What w^as my motive ? You, you 
 alone, are always my motive. Lucky men 
 have found gold, lucky men have found 
 diamonds. Why should I not be one of 
 them? My SAveet, let us suppose two possible 
 things ; my own elastic convictions would call 
 them two likely things, but never mind that. 
 Say, I come back a reformed character ; there 
 is your only objection to me, at once removed! 
 And take it for c^ranted tliat I return with a 
 
IRJS AT HOME 275 
 
 fortune of 1113^ oAvn finding. In tliat case, 
 wliat becomes of Mr. Henley's objection to 
 me ? It melts (as Shakespeare says some- 
 where) into thin air. Now do take my ad- 
 vice, for once. Sliow this part of my letter 
 to 3'Oiir excellent father, with my love. I 
 answer beforehand for the consequences. Be 
 happy, my Lady Harry — as happy as I am — 
 and look for my return on an earlier day 
 than you may anticipate.— Yours till death, 
 
 and after, 
 
 ' Harry.' 
 
 Like the Irish lord. Miss Henley was * in 
 two minds,' while she rose and dressed her- 
 self. There w^ere parts of the letter for which 
 she loved the writer, and parts of it for which 
 she hated him. 
 
 What a prospect was before that reckless 
 man — what misery, what horror, might not 
 be lying in wait in the dreadful future! If 
 
276 BUND LOVE 
 
 he failed in the act of vengeance, that violent 
 death of which lie had written so heedlessly 
 might overtake him from anotlier hand. If 
 he succeeded, the law might discover his 
 crime, and the infamy of expiation on the scaf- 
 fold might be his dreadful end. She turned, 
 shuddering, from the contemplation of those 
 hideous possibihties, and took refuge in the 
 hope of his safe, his guiltless return. Even if 
 his visions of success, even if his purposes of 
 reform (how hopeless at his age !) were actu- 
 ally realised, could she consent to marry tlie 
 man who had led his life, had written his 
 letter, had contemplated (and still cherished) 
 his merciless resolution of revenge ? No 
 woman in her senses could let the bare idea 
 of being liis wife enter her mind. Iris opened 
 her writing-desk, to hide the letter from all 
 eyes but her own. As s]ie secured it with 
 the key, her heart sank under the return of a 
 terror remembered but too well. Once more 
 
JRIS AT HOME 277 
 
 tlie superstitious belief in a destiny that was 
 urging Lord Harry and herself nearer and 
 nearer to each other, even when they seemed 
 to be most widely and most surely separated, 
 thrilled her under the chilling mystery of its 
 presence. She dropped helplessly into a 
 chair. Oh, for a friend who could feel for 
 her, who could strengthen her, whose wise 
 words could restore her to her better and 
 calmer self ! Hugh was far away ; and Iris 
 was left to suffer and to struggle alone. 
 
 Heartfelt aspirations for help and sym- 
 pathy ! Oh, irony of circumstances, how 
 were they answered ? The housemaid en- 
 tered the room, to announce the arrival of a 
 discharged servant, with a lost character. 
 
 ' Let the young woman come in,' Iris said. 
 Was Fanny Mere the friend whom she had 
 been longing for ? She looked at her trou- 
 bled face in the glass — and laughed bitterl5^ 
 
278 
 
 BLIND LOVE 
 
 CHAPTER Xiy 
 
 THE lady's maid 
 
 T was not easy to 
 form a positive 
 opinion of the 
 young Avonian 
 who now pre- 
 sented herself 
 in Miss Hen- 
 ley's room. 
 
 If the 
 Turkisli taste 
 is truly re- 
 ported as va- 
 luing beauty 
 in the female fiiiurc more than beaatv in 
 
THE LADY'S MAID 279 
 
 the female face, Fanny Mere's personal ap- 
 pearance might liave found, in Constanti- 
 nople, the approval which she failed to 
 receive in London. Slim and well-balanced, 
 firmly and neatly made, she interested men 
 who met Avith her by accident (and sometimes 
 even women), if they happened to be walking 
 Ijeliind her. When they quickened their steps 
 and, passing on, looked back at her face, they 
 lost all interest in Fanny from that moment. 
 Painters would liave described the defect in 
 lier face as ' Avant of colour.' She was one of 
 the wliitest of fair female human beings. 
 Light flaxen hair, faint blue eyes with no ex- 
 pression in them, and a complexion Avhich 
 looked as if it had never been stirred by a cir- 
 culation of blood, produced an effect on her 
 fellow-creatures in general which made them 
 insensible to the beauty of her figure, and the 
 grace of her movements. There was no be- 
 trayal of bad health in her strange pallor : on 
 
2So BLIND LOVE 
 
 the contrary, she suggested the idea of rare 
 physical strength. Her quietly respect fid 
 manner was, so to say, emphasised by an 
 underlying self-possession, which looked 
 capable of acting promptly and fearlessly in 
 the critical emergencies of life. Otherwise, 
 the expression of character in her face was 
 essentially passive. Here was a steady, reso- 
 lute young woman, possessed of qualities 
 which failed to show themselves on the surface 
 — whether good qualities or bad qualities ex- 
 perience alone could determine. 
 
 Finding it impossible, judging by a first 
 impression, to arrive at any immediate decision 
 favourable or adverse to the stranger, Iris 
 opened the interview with her customary 
 frankness ; leaving the consequences to follow 
 as they might. 
 
 ' Take a seat, Fanny,' she said, ' and let us 
 try if we can understand each other. I tliink 
 you will agree with me that there must be no 
 
THE LADY'S MAID 281 
 
 concealments between us. You ouglit to know 
 that your mistress has told me why she parted 
 with you. It was her duty to tell me tlie 
 truth, and it is my duty not to be unjustly 
 prejudiced against you after what I have 
 heard. Pray believe me when I say that I 
 don't knoAv, and don't wish to know, what 
 your temptation may have been ' 
 
 ' I beg your pardon, Miss, for interrupting 
 you. My temptation was vanity.' 
 
 Whether she did or did not suffer in mak- 
 ing that confession, it was impossible to dis- 
 cover. Her tones were quiet ; her manner 
 was unobtrusively respectful ; the pallor of 
 her face was not disturbed by the slio-htest 
 cliano'e of colour. Was the new maid an 
 insensible person ? Iris began to fear already 
 that she might have made a mistake. 
 
 ' I don't expect you to enter into par- 
 ticulars,' she said ; ' I don't ask you here to 
 humiliate yourself.' 
 
282 BLIXD LOVE 
 
 ' When I got your letter, Miss, I tried to 
 consider how I might show myself Avorthy of 
 your kindness,' Fanny answered. ' The one 
 way I could see was not to let you think better 
 of me than I deserve. When a person, like 
 me, is told, for the first time, that her figure 
 makes amends for her face, she is flattered by 
 the only compliment that has been paid to her 
 in all lier life. My excuse. Miss (if I have an 
 excuse) is a mean one — I couldn't resist a 
 compliment. That is all I have to say.' 
 
 Iris began to alter her opinion. This was 
 not a young woman of the ordinary type. It 
 began to look possible, and more than possible, 
 that she was worthy of a helping hand. The 
 truth seemed to be in her. 
 
 'I understand you, and feel for you.' 
 Having replied in those Avords, Iris wisely and 
 delicately changed the subject. ' Let me hear 
 liow you are situated at the present time,' she 
 continued. ' Are your parents hving ? ' 
 
THE LADY'S MAID 283 
 
 ' My father and mother are dead, Miss.' 
 
 ' Have you any other relatives P ' 
 
 ' They are too poor to be able to do any- 
 thing for me. I have lost my character — and 
 I am left to help myself.' 
 
 ' Suppose you fail to find another situa- 
 tion ? ' Iris suggested. 
 
 ' Yes, Miss ? ' 
 
 ' How can you help yourself ? ' 
 
 'I can do what other girls have done.' 
 
 ' What do you mean ? ' 
 
 ' Some of us starve on needlework. Some 
 take to the streets. Some end it in the river. 
 If there is no other chance for me, I think I 
 shall try that way,' said the poor creature, as 
 quietly as if she was speaking of some custom- 
 ary prospect that was open to her. ' There will 
 
 be nobody to be sorry for me and, as I have 
 
 read, drowning is not a very painful death.' 
 
 ' You shock me, Fanny ! I, for one, should 
 be sorry for you.' 
 
284 BLIND LOVE 
 
 ' Thank you, Miss.' 
 
 ' And try to remember,' Iris continued, 
 ' that there may be chances in the future 
 which you don't see yet. You speak of what 
 you have read, and I have already noticed how 
 clearly and correctly you express yourself. 
 You must have been educated. Was it at 
 liome ? or at school ? ' 
 
 ' I was once sent to school,' Fanny replied, 
 not quite willingly. 
 
 ' Was it a private school ? ' 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 That short answer warned Iris to be 
 careful. 
 
 ' Eecollections of school,' she said good- 
 humouredly, ' are not the pleasantest recol- 
 lections in some of our lives. Perhaps I have 
 touched on a subject which is disagreeable to 
 you ? ' 
 
 ' You have touched on one of my disap- 
 pointments, Miss. Wliile my mother lived. 
 
THE LADY'S MAID 285 
 
 she was my teacher. After her death, my 
 father sent me to scliooL When he failed in 
 business, I was obhged to leave, just as I liad 
 begun to learn and like it. Besides, the girls 
 found out that I was going away, because 
 there was no money at liome to pay the fees 
 — and that mortilied me. There is more that 
 I might tell you. I have a reason for hating 
 my recollections of the school — but I mustn't 
 mention tliat time in my life which your 
 goodness to me tries to forget.' 
 
 All that appealed to her, so simply and so 
 modestly, in that reply, was not lost on Iris. 
 After an interval of silence, she said : 
 
 ' Can you guess what I am thinking of, 
 Fanny ? ' 
 
 ' No, Miss.' 
 
 'I am asking myself a question. If I try 
 you in my service shall I never regret it ? ' 
 
 For the first time, strong emotion shook 
 Fanny Mere, Iler voice failed lier, in tlie 
 
286 BLIND LOVE 
 
 effort to speak. Iris considerately went 
 on. 
 
 ' You will take the place,' she said, ' of a 
 maid who has been with me for years — a good 
 dear creature who has only left me through 
 ill-health. I must not expect too much of 
 you. I cannot hope that you will be to me 
 what Ehoda Bennet has been.' 
 
 Fanny succeeded in controlling herself. 
 'Is there any hope, she asked,' ' of my seeing 
 Ehoda Bennet?' 
 
 ' Why do you wish to see her? ' 
 
 'You are fond of her. Miss — that is one 
 reason.' 
 
 ' And the other ? ' 
 
 ' Ehoda Bennet might help me to serve 
 3^ou as I want to serve you ; she might 
 perhaps encourage me to try if I could follow 
 her example.' Fanny paused, and clasped 
 her hands fervently. The thought that was 
 in her forced its way to expression. ' It's so 
 
THE LADV'S MAID 287 
 
 easy to feel grateful,' slie said — ' and, oli, so 
 hard to show it ! ' 
 
 ' Come to me,' her new mistress answered, 
 ' and show it to-morrow.' 
 
 Moved by tliat compassionate impulse, 
 Iris said the words which restored to an 
 unfortunate creature a lost character and a 
 forfeited place in tlie world. 
 
288 BLIiyD LOVE 
 
 CHAPTEE XV 
 
 MR. IIEXLEY's temper 
 
 |EOVIDED by Nature with ironclad 
 constitutional defences against ill- 
 ness, Mr. Henley was now and then 
 troubled with groundless doubts of his own 
 state of health. Actino^ under a delusion of 
 this kind, he imagined symptoms Avhich 
 rendered a cliange of residence necessary 
 from his town house to his country house, a 
 few days only after his daughter had decided 
 on the engagement of her new maid. 
 
 Iris gladly, even eagerly, adapted her own 
 wishes to the furtherance of her father's plans. 
 Sorely tried by anxiety and suspense, she 
 needed all that I'ost and tranquillity could do 
 
MR. HENLEY'S TEMPER 2S9 
 
 for her. The first week in the country pro- 
 duced an improvement in her health. En- 
 joying the serene beauty of woodland and 
 field, breathing the delicious purity of the air. 
 — sometimes cultivating her own corner in the 
 garden, and sometimes helping the women in 
 the lighter labours of the dairy — her nerves 
 recovered their tone, and her spirits rose again 
 to their higher level. 
 
 In the performance of her duties the new 
 maid justified Miss Henley's confidence in her, 
 during the residence of the liousehold in the 
 country. 
 
 She showed, in her own undemonstrative 
 way, a grateful sense of her mistress's kind- 
 ness. Her various occupations were intelli- 
 gently and attentively pursued ; her even 
 temper never seemed to vary ; she gave tlie 
 servants no opportunities of compLnini no- of ]\qy. 
 But one peculiarity in her beliaviour excited 
 hostile remark, below-stairs On tlie occasions 
 
 VOL. I. u 
 
290 BLIND LOVE 
 
 when she was free to go out for the day, she 
 always found some excuse for not joimng any 
 of the other female servants, who might 
 happen to be similarly favoured. The one 
 use she made of her hohday was to travel 
 by railway to some place unknown ; always 
 returning at the right time in the evening. 
 Iris knew enouc^h of the sad circumstances to 
 be able to respect her motives, and to appre- 
 ciate the necessity for keeping the object of 
 those solitary journeys a secret from her 
 fellow-servants. 
 
 The pleasant life in the country house 
 had lasted for nearly a month, when the an- 
 nouncement of Hugh's approaching return to 
 England reached Iris. The fatal end of his 
 father's long and lingering illness had arrived, 
 and the funeral liad taken place. Business, 
 connected with his succession to the property, 
 would detain liim in London for a few days. 
 Submitting to this necessity, he earnestly 
 
MR. HENLEV'S TEMPER 291 
 
 GX[)re.ssGd the hope of seeing Iris again, the 
 moment he was at Hberty. 
 
 Hearing the good news, ]\Ir. Hunley 
 obstinately returned to his plans — already 
 twice thwarted — for promoting the marriage 
 of Mountjoy and Iris. 
 
 He wrote to invite Hugh to his house in 
 a tone of cordiality which astonished his 
 daughter ; and when the guest arrived, the 
 genial welcome of the host had but one 
 defect — ^Mr. Henley overacted his part. He 
 gave the two young people perpetual oppor- 
 tunities of speaking to each other privately ; 
 and, on the principle that none are so blind 
 as those who won't see, he failed to discover 
 that the relations between them continued to 
 be relations of friendship, do what he might. 
 Hugh's long attendance on his dying father 
 had left him depressed in spirits ; Iris under- 
 stood him, and felt for him. He was not 
 
 u 2 
 
292 BLIND LOVE 
 
 ready with liis opinion of the new maid, after 
 he had seen Fanny Mere. 'My indination/ 
 he said, ' is to trust the girL And yet I hesitate 
 to follow my inclination — and I don't know 
 why/ 
 
 When Hugh's visit came to an end, he 
 continued his journey in a northerly direction. 
 The property left to him by his father included 
 a cottage, standing in its own grounds, on the 
 Scotch shore of the Solway Firth. The place 
 had been neglected during the long residence 
 of the elder Mr. Mountjoy on the Continent. 
 Hugh's present object was to judge, by his 
 own investigation, of the. necessity for repairs. 
 
 On the departure of his guest, Mr. Henley 
 (still obstinately hopeful of the marriage on 
 which he had set his mind) assumed a jocular 
 manner towards Iris, and asked if tlie Scotch 
 cottage was to be put in order for the honey- 
 moon. Her reply, gently as it was expressed, 
 threw him into a state of fury. His vindictive 
 
MR, HENLEY'S TEMPER 293 
 
 temper revelled, not only in harsh words, but 
 m spiteful actions. He sold one of his dogs 
 which had specially attached itself to Iris ; 
 and, seeing that she still enjoyed the country, 
 he decided on returning^ to London. 
 
 She submitted in silence. But the events 
 of that past time, when her father's merci- 
 less conduct had driven her out of his house, 
 returned ominously to her memory. She said 
 to herself: 'Is a day comhig when I shall 
 leave him again ? ' It was coming— and slie 
 little knew how. 
 
294 BLIND LOVE 
 
 CHAPTEE XVI 
 
 THE DOCTOR IN FULL DRESS 
 
 E. HENLEY'S lioiisehold had been 
 again establislied in London, when 
 a servant appeared one morning 
 with a visiting card, and announced that a 
 gentleman had called wlio wislied to see Miss 
 Henley. She looked at the card. The gentle- 
 man was Mr. Yimpany. 
 
 On the ]x^int of directing the man to say 
 tliat she was engaged, L^is checked herself. 
 
 Mrs. Yimpany 's farewell words had pro- 
 duced a strong impression on her. There had 
 been moments of doubt and gloom in her later 
 life when the remembrance of that unhappy 
 woman was associated with a feeling (perhaps 
 
THE DOCTOR IN FULL DRESS 295 
 
 a morbid feeling) of self-reproacli.. It seemed 
 to be hard on the poor penitent wretch not to 
 have written to her. Was she still leadino' 
 the same dreary life in the mouldering old 
 town ? Or had she made another attempt to 
 return to the ungrateful stage? The gross 
 husband, impudently presenting himself with 
 liis card and his message, could answer tliose 
 questions if he could do nothing else. For 
 that reason only, Iris decided that she would 
 receive j\Ir. Vimpany. 
 
 On entering the room, she found two 
 discoveries awaiting her, for wdiicli she was 
 entirely unprepared. 
 
 The doctor's personal appearance exhibited 
 a strikino^ chans^e ; he was dressed, in accord- 
 ance with the strictest notions of professional 
 propriety, entirely in black. More remarkable 
 still, there happened to be a French novel 
 among the books on the table — and that 
 novel, Mr. Yinipan}^, barbarous Mr. Yimpany, 
 
2g6 BLIND LOVE 
 
 was actually reading with an appearance of 
 
 understanding it ! 
 
 'I seem to surprise you,' said the doctor. 
 
 ' Is it this ? ' He held up the French novel as 
 
 he put the question. 
 
 ' I must own that I was not aware of 
 
 the range of your accomplishments,' Iris 
 
 answered. 
 
 ' Oh, don't talk of accomplishments I I 
 
 learnt my profession in Paris. For nigh on 
 
 three years I lived among the French medical 
 students. Noticing this book on the table, I 
 thought I would try whether I had forgotten 
 the language — in the time that has passed 
 (you know) since those days. Well, my 
 memory isn't a good one in most things, but, 
 strange to say (force of habit, I suppose), some 
 of my French sticks by me still. I hope I see 
 you well. Miss Henley. Might I ask if you 
 noticed the new address, when I sent up my 
 card ? ' 
 
THE DOCTOR IN FULL DRESS 297 
 
 ' I only noticed your name.' 
 The doctor produced his pocket-book, and 
 took out a second card. With pride he 
 pointed to the address : ' 5 Eedburn Eoad, 
 Hampstead Heath.' With pride he looked at 
 his black clothes. ' Strictly professional, isn't 
 it ? ' he said. ' I have bought a new practice ; 
 and I have become a new man. It isn't easy 
 at first. No, by Jingo — I beg your pardon— 
 I was about to say, my own respectability 
 rather bothers me ; I shall get used to it in 
 time. If you will allow me I'll take a liberty. 
 No offence, I hope ? ' 
 
 He produced a handful of his cards, and 
 laid them out in a neat little semicircle on the 
 table. 
 
 ' A word of recommendation, when you 
 have the chance, would be a friendly act on 
 your part,' he explained. 'Capital air in 
 Eedburn Eoad, and a fine view of the Heath out 
 of the garret windows — but it's rather an out- 
 
293 BLIND LOVE 
 
 of-the-way situation. Xot that I complain ; 
 beggars mustn't be choosers. I should have 
 preferred a practice in a fashionable part 
 of London ; but our little windfall of 
 
 money 
 
 He came to a full stop in the middle of a 
 sentence. The sale of the superb diamond 
 pin, by means of which Lord Harry had 
 repaid Mrs. Yimpany's services, was, of all 
 domestic events, the last which it might be 
 wise to mention in the presence of Miss 
 Henley. He was awkwardly silent. Taking 
 advantage of that circumstance, Iris introduced 
 the subject in whicli she felt interested. 
 
 ' How is Mrs. Yimpany ? ' she asked. ' 
 
 ' Oh, she's all right ! ' 
 
 ' Does she like your new house P ' 
 
 The doctor made a strange reply. 'I 
 really can't tell you,' he said. 
 
 ' Do you mean that Mrs. Yimpany declines 
 to express an opinion ? ' 
 
THE DOCTOR IN FULL DRESS 299 
 
 He laughed. 'In all my experience,' lie 
 said, ' I never met with a woman who did 
 that ! No, no ; the fact is, my wife and I 
 liave parted company. There's no need to 
 look so serions about it ! Incompatibility of 
 temper, as the saying is, has led us to a 
 friendly separation. Equally a relief on both 
 sides. She goes her way, and I go mine.' 
 
 His tone -disgusted Iris — and she let him 
 see it. 'Is it of any use to ask you for Mrs. 
 Yimpany's address ? ' she inquired. 
 
 His atrocious good-humour kept its 
 balance as steadily as ever : ' Sorry to disap- 
 point you. Mrs. Yimpany hasn't given me 
 lier address. Curious, isn't it? The fact is, 
 slie moped a good deal, after you left us ; 
 talked of her duty, and the care of her soul, 
 and that sort of thing. When I hear where 
 she is, I'll let you know with pleasure. To 
 the best of my belief, she's doing nurse's work 
 somewhere.' 
 
300 BLIND LOVE 
 
 'Nurse's worki What do you mean ? ' 
 
 ' Oh, the right thmg — all in the fashion. 
 She belongs to what they call a Sisterhood ; 
 goes about, you know, in a shabby black 
 gown, with a poke bonnet. At least, so Lord 
 Harry told me the other day.' 
 
 In spite of herself, Iris betrayed the agita- 
 tion which those words instantly roused in her. 
 'Lord Harry!' she exclaimed. 'Where is 
 he ? In London ? ' 
 
 ' Yes-^at Parker's Hotel.' 
 
 ' When did he return ? ' 
 
 ' Oh, a few days ago ; and — what do j^ou 
 think? — he's come back from the gold-fields a 
 lucky man. Damn it, I've let the cat out of 
 the bag ! I was to keep the thing a secret 
 from everybody, and from you most particu- 
 larly. He's got some surprise in store for you. 
 Don't tell him what I've done ! We had 
 a little misunderstanding, in past days, at 
 Honeybuzzard — and, now we are friends 
 
THE DOCTOR IN FULL DRESS 301 
 
 again, I don't want to lose his lordship's 
 interest.' 
 
 Iris promised to be silent. But to know 
 that the wild lord was in England again, and 
 to remain in ignorance whether he had, or 
 liad not, returned with the stain of bloodshed 
 on him, was more than she could endure. 
 
 ' There is one question I must ask you,' she 
 said. ' I have reason to fear that Lord Harry 
 
 left this country, with a purpose of revenge -' 
 
 Mr. Yimpany wanted no further explana- 
 tion. 'Yes, yes ; I know. You may be easy 
 about that. There's been no mischief done, 
 either one way or the otlier. The man he 
 Avas after, when lie landed in South Africa (he 
 told me so himself), has escaped him.' 
 
 With that reply, the doctor got up in a 
 hurry to bring his visit to an end. He pro- 
 posed to take to flight, he remarked face- 
 tiously, before Miss Henley wheedled him into 
 saying anything more. 
 
302 BLIND LOVE 
 
 Alter opening the duor, liowevcr, lie 
 suddenly returned to Iris, and added a last 
 word m the strictest confidence. 
 
 ' If you won't forget to recommend me to 
 your friends,' he said, 'I'll trust you with 
 another secret. You will see his lordship in 
 a day or two, when he returns from the races. 
 Good-bye.' 
 
 The races ! What was Lord Harry doing 
 at the races ? 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME 
 
 PRINTED BY 
 
 SrOTTISWOODE AXD CO., XE-W-i^TF^EET SQUARE 
 
 LONDON 
 
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