NEWS OF IRIS
AFTER his interview with the Irish lord, Mountjoy waited for two days,
in the expectation of hearing from Iris. No reply arrived. Had Mr.
Vimpany failed to forward the letter that had been entrusted to him?
On the third day, Hugh wrote to make inquiries.
The doctor returned the letter that had been confided to his care, and
complained in his reply of the ungrateful manner in which he had been
treated. Miss Henley had not trusted him with her new address in
London; and Lord Harry had suddenly left Redburn Road; bidding his host
goodbye in a few lines of commonplace apology, and nothing more. Mr.
Vimpany did not deny that he had been paid for his medical services;
but, he would ask, was nothing due to friendship? Was one man justified
in enjoying another man's hospitality, and then treating him like a
stranger? "I have done with them both--and I recommend you, my dear
sir, to follow my example." In those terms the angry (and sober) doctor
expressed his sentiments, and offered his advice.
Mountjoy laid down the letter in despair.
His last poor chance of preventing the marriage depended on his being
still able to communicate with Iris--and she was as completely lost to
him as if she had taken flight to the other end of the world. It might
have been possible to discover her by following the movements of Lord
Harry, but he too had disappeared without leaving a trace behind him.
The precious hours and days were passing--and Hugh was absolutely
helpless.
Tortured by anxiety and suspense, he still lingered at the hotel in
London. More than once, he decided on giving up the struggle, and
returning to his pretty cottage in Scotland. More than once, he
deferred taking the journey. At one time, he dreaded to hear that Iris
was married, if she wrote to him. At another time, he felt mortified
and disappointed by the neglect which her silence implied. Was she near
him, or far from him? In England, or out of England? Who could say!
After more weary days of waiting and suffering a letter arrived,
addressed to Mountjoy in a strange handwriting, and bearing the
post-mark of Paris. The signature revealed that his correspondent was
Lord Harry.
His first impulse was to throw the letter into the fire, unread. There
could be little doubt, after the time that had passed, of the
information that it would contain. Could he endure to be told of the
marriage of Iris, by the man who was her husband? Never! There was
something humiliating in the very idea of it. He arrived at that
conclusion--and what did he do in spite of it? He read the letter.
Lord Harry wrote with scrupulous politeness of expression. He regretted
that circumstances had prevented him from calling on Mr. Mountjoy,
before he left England. After the conversation that had taken place at
Mr. Vimpany's house, he felt it his duty to inform Mr. Mountjoy that he
had insured his life--and, he would add, for a sum of money amply, and
more than amply, sufficient to provide for his wife in the event of her
surviving him. Lady Harry desired her kind regards, and would write
immediately to her old and valued friend. In the meantime, he would
conclude by repeating the expression of his sense of obligation to Mr.
Mountjoy.
Hugh looked back at the first page of the letter, in search of the
writer's address. It was simply, "Paris." The intention to prevent any
further correspondence, or any personal communication, could hardly
have been more plainly implied. In another moment, the letter was in
the fire.
In two days more, Hugh heard from Iris.
She, too, wrote regretfully of the sudden departure from England;
adding, however, that it was her own doing. A slip of the tongue, on
Lord Harry's part, in the course of conversation, had led her to fear
that he was still in danger from political conspirators with whom he
had imprudently connected himself. She had accordingly persuaded him to
tell her the whole truth, and had thereupon insisted on an immediate
departure for the Continent. She and her husband were now living in
Paris; Lord Harry having friends in that city whose influence might
prove to be of great importance to his pecuniary prospects. Some
sentences followed, expressing the writer's grateful remembrance of all
that she had owed to Hugh in past days, and her earnest desire that
they might still hear of each other, from time to time, by
correspondence. She could not venture to anticipate the pleasure of
receiving a visit from him, under present circumstances. But, she hoped
that he would not object to write to her, addressing his letters, for
the present, to post-restante.
In a postscript a few words were added, alluding to Mr. Vimpany. Hugh
was requested not to answer any inquiries which that bad man might
venture to make, relating to her husband or to herself. In the bygone
days, she had been thankful to the doctor for the care which he had
taken, medically speaking, of Rhoda Bonnet. But, since that time, his
behaviour to his wife, and the opinions which he had expressed in
familiar conversation with Lord Harry, had convinced her that he was an
unprincipled person. All further communication with him (if her
influence could prevent it) must come to an end.
Still as far as ever from feeling reconciled to the marriage, Mountjoy
read this letter with a feeling of resentment which disinclined him to
answer it.
He believed (quite erroneously) that Iris had written to him under the
superintendence of her husband. There were certain phrases which had
been, as he chose to suspect, dictated by Lord Harry's distrust--jealous
distrust, perhaps--of his wife's friend. Mountjoy would wait to
reply, until, as he bitterly expressed it, Iris was able to write to
him without the assistance of her master.
Again he thought of returning to Scotland--and, again, he hesitated.
On this occasion, he discovered objections to the cottage which had not
occurred to him while Iris was a single woman. The situation was
solitary; his nearest neighbours were fishermen. Here and there, at
some little distance, there were only a few scattered houses inhabited
by retired tradesmen. Further away yet, there was the country-seat of
an absent person of distinction, whose health suffered in the climate
of Scotland. The lonely life in prospect, on the shores of the Solway,
now daunted Mountjoy for the first time.
He decided on trying what society in London would do to divert his mind
from the burdens and anxieties that weighed on it. Acquaintances whom
he had neglected were pleasantly surprised by visits from their rich
and agreeable young friend. He attended dinner parties; he roused hope
in mothers and daughters by accepting invitations to balls; he
reappeared at his club. Was there any relief to his mind in this? was
there even amusement? No; he was acting a part, and he found it a hard
task to keep up appearances. After a brief and brilliant interval,
society knew him no more.
Left by himself again, he enjoyed one happy evening in London. It was
the evening on which he relented, in spite of himself, and wrote to
Iris.