Do _you,_ too wish me
to leave Paris?"
Sitting very near to him--nearer than her husband might have liked to
see--Iris drew away a little. "Did you mean to be cruel in saying
that?" she asked. "I don't deserve it."
"It was kindly meant," Hugh assured her. "If I can make your position
more endurable by going away, I will leave Paris to-morrow."
Iris moved back again to the place which she had already occupied. She
was eager to thank him (for a reason not yet mentioned) as she had
never thanked him yet. Silently and softly she offered her gratitude to
Hugh, by offering her cheek. The irritating influence of Lord Harry's
jealousy was felt by both of them at that moment. He kissed her
cheek--and lingered over it. She was the first to recover herself.
"When you spoke just now of my position with my husband," she said,
"you reminded me of anxieties, Hugh, in which you once shared, and of
services which I can never forget."
Preparing him in those words for the disclosure which she had now to
make, Iris alluded to the vagabond life of adventure which Lord Harry
had led. The restlessness in his nature which that life implied, had
latterly shown itself again; and his wife had traced the cause to a
letter from Ireland, communicating a report that the assassin of Arthur
Mountjoy had been seen in London, and was supposed to be passing under
the name of Carrigeen.
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