IRIS AND VERNON.
He drew nearer to her, on that invitation, and took her hand in his.
Iris trembled slightly, but she did not withdraw it.
‘The worst thing I have to accuse myself of, with regard to you,
Vernie, is that I deceived you on our first meeting, by letting you
believe I was a widow. But I was frightened into the deception. I did
not know what else to say. You asked me why I was masquerading on board
the _Pandora_ under the name of Douglas, and it was impossible for me
to tell you _then_. Now, things have gone so far, that I feel I must
confide in some one, and I know you will respect my confidence.’
‘I will respect as much as I shall value it, Iris. But tell me all that
has happened to you since we parted. You can’t think how ignorant I am.
After that never-to-be-forgotten day, when I rushed half mad from your
presence--but there, we won’t say another word about _my_ troubles--but
since that time I have never heard anything of you except the bare fact
of your marriage. I do not even know your husband’s name, unless it is
Douglas. I don’t know where you have been living, or if you have been
happy or miserable. Tell me your whole story--that is, if it will not
give you pain.’
‘I mean to tell it you, Vernie. I wish you to hear it. Until you do,
you cannot give me the counsel of which I stand so much in need.
You know that when we met, I was already engaged to be married. My
poor old father, who was very weak and easily taken in, had made
the acquaintance of a good-looking young Englishman, fresh home
from America, who seemed to have plenty of money, and to have been
everywhere, and seen everything,--a man with a pleasant, free manner
and a glib tongue, and no objection to tell an untruth, though, of
course, I didn’t know that at the time. Well, he brought him to our
house, and he fell in love with me, and--and--’
‘And you fell in love with him, Iris.’
‘I suppose I did.’
‘Why do you say “_suppose_”?’
‘Because I have my doubts now as to whether I ever _did_ love him.
However, I was only eighteen, and I thought I did. He seemed everything
that was delightful to me, and _you_ looked such a boy by his side.’
‘Ah! poor me. Leave _me_ out of the story altogether.’
‘No; I don’t want to do so. I am proud to remember that you cared for
me, and feel honoured by your preference, and still more, Vernie, that
it should have lasted all this time.’
He squeezed her hand, but made no answer.
‘Well, we were married not two months after I had sent you away, and he
took me to Liverpool.’
‘What _was_ his name, Iris?’
‘Wait a minute, and I will tell you. I was too young at first to
understand what the mode of my husband’s life could mean. I thought it
very strange that it altered so constantly; that sometimes we lived
in big hotels, and sometimes in squalid lodgings; that at one time he
would appear to have his pockets full of money, and at others we had
nothing but bread and cheese to eat, and creditors were clamouring all
day to have their bills paid. My husband, too, spent all his evenings
and most of his nights away, and I was very friendless and solitary in
consequence. One thing I did very soon understand, and that was, that
he was addicted to intemperance. He was seldom quite sober, and his
violence when intoxicated kept me in constant dread of him.’
‘My poor darling,’ cried Jack impetuously, and then correcting himself,
‘I beg your pardon, Iris,’ he continued; ‘but why didn’t you go back to
your father?’
‘Oh, Vernie, how could I? Don’t you remember how poor my father,
Captain Hetherley, was? He had nothing but his half-pay to live on, and
he was getting old, and needed a few comforts. How could I have thrown
myself on him for support? Besides, he died in the first year of my
marriage. His home could not have provided me with shelter for long.’
‘Well, dear, go on. What next?’
‘There were other things for me to bear beside the shame of debt, and
the fear of my husband’s cruelty. I discovered, only too soon, that his
love for me had been but a passing fancy, and that his fancy altered
like the wind. Had I cared for him, I might have broken my heart from
jealousy of others.’
‘Oh, Iris. What man could have the baseness to treat you in such a
manner. _You_, who had been so delicately nurtured and trained, and
so much indulged. Why _I_ could have given you a happier and more
respectable lot than this.’
‘I have often thought so too,’ she whispered.
‘Have you really?’ exclaimed Vernon joyfully. ‘Is it possible that in
the midst of so much misery you had time to think of _me_?’
‘Oh, often, often. When I have been most unhappy and most disappointed,
the remembrance of you has come back to me most clearly, and I have
longed to be able to tell you that I was sorry I had caused you so much
pain.’
‘Never mind, my dearest. You are making it up to me now a thousand
fold. Let me hear the rest of your story.’
‘It was not long before my husband took me away from Liverpool, and
then we lived in all sorts of places, but it was always the same life
of solitude and discomfort for me, until Maggie came to live with us,
and be my friend. He never dared to treat me so unkindly after she
came. She seemed to hold some sort of power over him--in fact, I often
thought he was half afraid of her. Well, this went on until about a
year ago, when we came to live in London. And there I found out that my
husband made his money entirely by gambling. He hadn’t a penny of his
own, and he was constantly getting into scrapes, and having to run away
and keep in hiding for weeks together, and Maggie and I used nearly
to starve whilst he was gone. But he made some rich friends in London
nevertheless, during some of his lucky moments, and spent half his time
with them. And one day he told me he should be obliged to run over to
France for a few weeks, as his creditors were pressing him very hard,
and I believed him, until I picked up a letter he left behind him by
accident, and found that he had accepted an appointment in New Zealand
instead, and was going out in this very ship.’
‘In the _Pandora_!’ exclaimed Jack. ‘You don’t mean to tell me your
husband is on board this vessel?’
‘I do mean to tell you so. I am the wife of Godfrey Harland.’
‘_Of Mr Harland._ Good heavens!’ said Jack; ‘but, Iris--’
‘Don’t interrupt me, Vernie. I have nearly reached the end of my
story. You can understand now why Maggie and I are here, hiding in the
second cabin. Mr Harland intended to leave us in England to beg--to
steal--or to starve. He knew we had no other means of subsistence. But
I determined to circumvent him. If he was to draw a good salary as
Mr Vansittart’s agent, I did not see why he should not support me as
I have a right to be supported. So Maggie and I sold all our little
belongings, and came after him, with the intention of not revealing our
identity until we landed in New Zealand. But now I hardly know what to
do.’
‘You are _Godfrey Harland’s wife_?’ mused Vernon Blythe. ‘It seems
incredible to me. And yet how intuitively that man and I have disliked
each other from the moment we met. But, Iris, do you know that he is
passing himself off as an unmarried man, and that all the ship says he
is engaged to Miss Vansittart?’
‘I know more, Vernie. I sat just behind them this evening at the
theatricals, and heard their conversation. They spoke in French, and
thought, therefore, they could do so unreservedly. She considers
herself undoubtedly engaged to him. They discussed their marriage
prospects together, and agreed that if, on landing. Mr and Mrs
Vansittart refused their consent, they were to be married at once
without waiting for it. And now I have told you all this, that you may
be able to advise me. What ought I to do? What is my duty to do in this
matter?’
‘To stop it at once, Iris. What has this poor girl Miss Vansittart
been guilty of that you should let her suffer one jot more than is
necessary? Were I you, I should go this evening to Mr Vansittart, and
tell him the whole story.’
‘Oh, no,’ replied Iris, shrinking from the idea; ‘not till I have
spoken to Godfrey, Vernie, and given him the opportunity to return to
his duty. Would it not seem like malice, or jealousy, to go to the
Vansittarts first? They don’t like him, you know, and they look coldly
on his attentions to their daughter--Miss Vansittart acknowledged as
much to-night--and so they would not blame him for withdrawing from
them. And with her, of course, he must make his own peace.’
‘And what is to follow the disclosure of your proximity?’ demanded
Jack, somewhat sarcastically. ‘Tears, kisses, repentance, forgiveness,
blue-fire, and general rejoicings.’
Iris was silent.
‘Tell me, Iris, are you going to tumble into your husband’s arms as
soon as you meet him, and take him back again if he promises to be a
good boy and never do it again?’
‘You don’t _know_ me,’ was all she answered.
‘I know what women are, as a rule, stupid, soft-hearted creatures, that
believe every word that is said to them, and are always ready to think
themselves in the wrong.’
‘Up to a certain point, Vernie, perhaps we do. But there comes a day
for most of us, when we feel that we can forgive no longer. And I have
reached that day and passed it. Were I of a revengeful nature, I
should think there was no motive but revenge in what I am going to do
now.’
‘It would be a solemn duty left undone were you to ignore it, Iris.
Whatever might happen to that poor girl hereafter, would lie at your
door. Were I to follow my own wishes, I should say,--let the brute
commit bigamy, and free yourself from him. Why should you be linked
all your life to a man who is less than a husband to you? It is not
_he_ who deserves our pity. But for the woman who is innocently walking
into the trap he has laid for her, we cannot feel too much. I think you
should inform the Vansittarts, and deprive Harland of the appointment
they have promised him, at once. Why should such a scoundrel be placed
in a position of trust and emolument?’
Iris’s hazel eyes dilated with horror.
‘But, Vernon, you don’t know him. What should _I_ do under such
circumstances--left at his mercy in a strange land? Why, he would
_kill_ me, in revenge for his loss. Oh, no; _I dare not_! I shall not
even threaten him with the disclosure that I am his wife. I don’t want
to live with him again. I detest the thought of it. All I meant to tell
him was that I am here, and as long as he sends me enough money to live
on, I promise to remain quiet.’
‘But, Iris, that looks like collusion to me. Under such circumstances,
you will leave him free to work what villainy he chooses, so long as
you get your remittances. Is that just?’
The girl bent her head upon her knees and rocked herself backwards and
forwards, moaning.
‘Oh, dearest, don’t do that!’ cried Vernon; ‘you distress me beyond
measure. Is it possible this brute inspires you with so much fear?’
‘_Fear!_’ she repeated, with a shudder, ‘I am so much afraid of him
that I feel, when the moment comes, I shall be too cowardly to speak
at all! Oh, Vernie! let him go on. What does it signify to me? Miss
Vansittart is as well able to take care of herself as I was; and if she
suffers--well, we _all_ suffer! I think we are born for nothing else.
But I _cannot_ go back to him. I would rather throw myself overboard at
once!’
‘Iris,’ said Vernon, and his voice shook audibly as he spoke, ‘don’t
be angry with me for what I am going to say. I should not have dared
to speak my mind, had not your distress emboldened me. But--if I am
not utterly distasteful to you, darling--let me save you from all this
misery. Let me take you away from it! You shall never say then that you
need love or protection. My heart has been yours since we first met,
and my arm shall be at your service till death parts us! Will you come,
Iris? will you be _my_ wife--in deed if not in name--and let me try
and make up to you for the wretched failure of your married life?’
She looked up into his brave, kind young face with surprise, but
without any horror.
‘Oh, how _good_ you are!’ she exclaimed gratefully; ‘and how you must
love me to make such a proposal. To offer to cloud all your life
and prospects with the burden of a disappointed and broken-hearted
woman,--a woman who would bring shame on your name and your mother’s,
and be but a sorry pleasure to you after all, so that you may patch
up her ruined life, and make her feel at ease once more. Do you think
I would accept your offer, Vernie?--that I would be so selfish as to
do it? Some women might forget to be grateful, in prating to you of
the wrong of such an action. But I can’t. I can only see the love that
prompted it, and thank you from the bottom of my heart. But I don’t
mean to avail myself of it all the same.’
‘You could never be a burden to me, Iris,’ he answered simply; ‘for I
have loved you so long. And as for my mother--you don’t know what a
good, generous, warm-hearted creature she is. She would brave anything
for the sake of the woman who loved _me_.’
‘But I have never said I loved you,’ returned Iris, with a faint smile.
‘Will you say it now? It would make me so very happy! Will you say
that--if you were free--you would be my wife?’
‘Oh, yes! yes! A thousand times over!’ she answered, weeping. ‘_I do
love you_, Vernie; I love you as much as you love me. But don’t talk of
it; it will never, _never_ be! Such things don’t happen in this world.
I have forged my own chains, and I must wear them, however hardly they
may press upon me; but I shall never forget what you have said to me
to-night, and the remembrance will make me happier to the last day of
my life.’
‘Then I won’t wish my words unsaid, Iris. But with respect to Harland,
what do you intend to do?’
‘I will think it over to-night. I have resolved to speak to him. The
only thing is, how shall I do it? Perhaps I will write a letter, and
you shall give it to him. I would not like to trust _anybody_; or, as
he has a deck cabin to himself, I may go and speak to him after he
has retired for the night. It little matters _how_ it is done, but it
_will_ be done before this time to-morrow.’
‘That is a brave girl,’ said Blythe, ‘and, remember, there is no cause
for fear. _I_ am here to protect you, dearest, and not a hair of your
head shall be harmed on land or at sea, so long as I stand by to
prevent it!’
‘You make me feel so safe,’ replied Iris, with a grateful sigh. ‘I will
go below now, Vernie, and dream that I have one friend left to defend
me against my enemy.’
[Illustration]