The result, as she
could hardly doubt, had been the restoration of her domestic influence
to its helpful freedom of control--whether for the time only it was not
in her nature, at that moment of happiness, to inquire. "After what you
have just told me," she ventured to say, "I may own that I am glad to
see you come home, alone."
In that indirect manner, she confessed the hope that friendly
intercourse between the two men had come to an end. His reply
disappointed her.
"Vimpany only remains in Paris," he said, "to present a letter of
introduction. He will follow me home."
"Soon?" she asked, piteously.
"In time for dinner, I suppose." She was still sitting on his knee. His
arm pressed her gently when he said his next words, "I hope you will
dine with us to-day, Iris?"
"Yes--if you wish it."
"I wish it very much. Something in me recoils from being alone with
Vimpany. Besides, a dinner at home without you is no dinner at all."
She thanked him for that little compliment by a look. At the same time,
her grateful sense of her husband's kindness was embittered by the
prospect of the doctor's return. "Is he likely to dine with us often,
now?" she was bold enough to say.
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