Part 21 (1/2)
”Does she like your new house?”
The doctor made a strange reply. ”I really can't tell you,” he said.
”Do you mean that Mrs. Vimpany declines to express an opinion?”
He laughed. ”In all my experience,” he said, ”I never met with a woman who did that! No, no; the fact is, my wife and I have parted company.
There's no need to look so serious about it! Incompatibility of temper, as the saying is, has led us to a friendly separation. Equally a relief on both sides. She goes her way, I go mine.”
His tone disgusted Iris--and she let him see it. ”Is it of any use to ask you for Mrs. Vimpany's address?” she inquired.
His atrocious good-humour kept its balance as steadily as ever: ”Sorry to disappoint you. Mrs. Vimpany hasn't given me her address. Curious, isn't it? The fact is, she moped a good deal, after you left us; talked of her duty, and the care of her soul, and that sort of thing. When I hear where she is, I'll let you know with pleasure. To the best of my belief, she's doing nurse's work somewhere.”
”Nurse's work? What do you mean?”
”Oh, the right thing--all in the fas.h.i.+on. She belongs to what they call a Sisterhood; goes about, you know, in a shabby black gown, with a poke bonnet. At least, so Lord Harry told me the other day.”
In spite of herself, Iris betrayed the agitation which those words instantly roused in her. ”Lord Harry!” she exclaimed. ”Where is he? In London?”
”Yes--at Parker's Hotel.”
”When did he return?”
”Oh, a few days ago; and--what do you think?--he's come back from the goldfields a lucky man. d.a.m.n it, I've let the cat out of the bag! I was to keep the thing a secret from everybody, and from you most particularly. He's got some surprise in store for you. Don't tell him what I've done! We had a little misunderstanding, in past days, at Honeybuzzard--and, now we are friends again, I don't want to lose his lords.h.i.+p's interest.”
Iris promised to be silent. But to know that the wild lord was in England again, and to remain in ignorance whether he had, or had not, returned with the stain of bloodshed on him, was more than she could endure.
”There is one question I must ask you,” she said. ”I have reason to fear that Lord Harry left this country, with a purpose of revenge--”
Mr. Vimpany wanted no further explanation. ”Yes, yes; I know. You may be easy about that. There's been no mischief done, either one way or the other. The man he was after, when he landed in South Africa (he told me so himself) has escaped him.”
With that reply, the doctor got up in a hurry to bring his visit to an end. He proposed to take to flight, he remarked facetiously, before Miss Henley wheedled him into saying anything more.
After opening the door, however, he suddenly returned to Iris, and added a last word in the strictest confidence.
”If you won't forget to recommend me to your friends,” he said, ”I'll trust you with another secret. You will see his lords.h.i.+p in a day or two, when he returns from the races. Good-bye.”
The races! What was Lord Harry doing at the races?
CHAPTER XVII
ON HAMPSTEAD HEATH
IRIS had only to remember the manner in which she and Mountjoy had disappointed her father, to perceive the serious necessity of preventing Mountjoy's rival from paying a visit at Mr. Henley's house.
She wrote at once to Lord Harry, at the hotel which Mr. Vimpany had mentioned, entreating him not to think of calling on her. Being well aware that he would insist on a meeting, she engaged to write again and propose an appointment. In making this concession, Iris might have found it easier to persuade herself that she was yielding to sheer necessity, if she had not been guiltily conscious of a feeling of pleasure at the prospect of seeing Lord Harry again, returning to her an innocent man. There was some influence, in this train of thought, which led her mind back to Hugh. She regretted his absence--wondered whether he would have proposed throwing her letter to the Irish lord into the fire--sighed, closed the envelope, and sent the letter to the post.
On the next day, she had arranged to drive to Muswell Hill, and to pay the customary visit to Rhoda. Heavy rain obliged her to wait for a fitter opportunity. It was only on the third day that the sky cleared, and the weather was favourable again. On a suns.h.i.+ny autumn morning, with a fine keen air blowing, she ordered the open carriage. Noticing, while f.a.n.n.y Mere was helping her to dress, that the girl looked even paler than usual, she said, with her customary kindness to persons dependent on her, ”You look as if a drive in the fresh air would do you good--you shall go with me to the farm, and see Rhoda Bennet.”
When they stopped at the house, the farmer's wife appeared, attending a gentleman to the door. Iris at once recognised the local medical man.
”You're not in attendance, I hope, on Rhoda Bennet?” she said.
The doctor acknowledged that there had been some return of the nervous derangement from which the girl suffered. He depended mainly (he said) on the weather allowing her to be out as much as possible in the fresh air, and on keeping her free from all agitation. Rhoda was so far on the way to recovery, that she was now walking in the garden by his advice. He had no fear of her, provided she was not too readily encouraged, in her present state, to receive visitors. Her mistress would be, of course, an exception to this rule. But even Miss Henley would perhaps do well not to excite the girl by prolonging her visit.