Vimpany, to her face, with being the Irish
lord's spy, and proving the accusation by challenging her to produce
the registered letter and the diamond pin.
While he was still struggling with his own 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 window. On this occasion,
she looked out into the street--with her handkerchief (was it used as a
signal?) exhibited in her hand. Iris, on her side, advanced to
Mountjoy. Easily moved to anger, her nature was incapable of sullen
perseverance in a state of enmity. To see Hugh still patiently
waiting--still risking the chances of insult--devoted to her, and
forgiving her--was at once a reproach that punished Iris, and a mute
appeal that no true woman's heart 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
the drawing-room door was roughly opened. They both looked round.
The man of all others whom Hugh least desired to see was the man who
now entered the room.
Pages:
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145