Poor humanity--there's all that's to be said about it. But when
you tell me that Vimpany is a bad man, and the worst friend I could
possibly have, and so forth--what better can I do than set it down to
your imagination? I've a pretty fancy, myself; and I think I see my
angel inventing poetical characters, up among congenial clouds. What's
the matter? Surely, you haven't done breakfast yet?"
"Yes."
"Are you going to leave me?"
"I am going to my room."
"You're in a mighty hurry to get away. I never meant to vex you, Iris.
Ah, well, if you must leave the table, I'll have the honour of opening
the door for you, at any rate. I wonder what you're going to do?"
"To cultivate my imagination," she answered, with the first outbreak of
bitterness that had escaped her yet.
His face hardened. "There seems to be something like bearing malice in
this," he said. "Are you treating me, for the first time, to an
exhibition of enmity? What am I to call it, if it's not that?"
"Call it disappointment," she suggested quietly, and left him.
Lord Harry went back to his breakfast. His jealousy was up in arms
again. "She's comparing me with her absent friend," he said to himself,
"and wishing she had married the amiable Mountjoy instead of me.
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