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 her.
IV
BEING 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 company."
"Only your maid, Iris? Surely you have acquaintances among young ladies
like yourself?"
"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
lips closed firmly; revealing that strongest of all resolutions which
is founded on a keen sense of wrong.
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