While these trifling events were in course of progress, Mr. Vimpany had
gone into the garden to read the second of the two letters, delivered
that morning, addressed to himself. On her return from the post-office,
Fanny had opportunities of observing him while she was in the
greenhouse, trying to revive the perishing flowers--neglected in the
past days of domestic trouble.
Noticing her, after he had read his letter over for the second time,
Mr. Vimpany sent the maid into the cottage to say that he wished to
speak with her master. Lord Harry joined him in the garden--looked at
the letter--and, handing it back, turned away. The doctor followed him,
and said something which seemed to be received with objection. Mr.
Vimpany persisted nevertheless, and apparently carried his point. The
two gentlemen consulted the railway time-table, and hurried away
together, to catch the train to Paris.
Fanny Mere returned to the conservatory, and absently resumed her
employment among the flowers. On what evil errand had the doctor left
the cottage? And, why, on this occasion, had he taken the master with
him?
The time had been when Fanny might have tried to set these questions at
rest by boldly following the two gentlemen to Paris; trusting to her
veil, to her luck, and to the choice of a separate carriage in the
train, to escape notice. But, although her ill-judged interference with
the domestic affairs of Lady Harry had been forgiven, she had not been
received again into favour unreservedly. Conditions were imposed, which
forbade her to express any opinion on her master's conduct, and which
imperatively ordered her to leave the protection of her mistress--if
protection was really needed--in his lordship's competent hands. "I
gratefully appreciate your kind intentions," Iris had said, with her
customary tenderness of regard for the feelings of others; "but I never
wish to hear again of Mr. Vimpany, or of the strange suspicions which
he seems to excite in your mind." Still as gratefully devoted to Iris
as ever, Fanny viewed the change in my lady's way of thinking as one of
the deplorable results of her return to her husband, and waited
resignedly for the coming time when her wise distrust of two
unscrupulous men would be justified.
Condemned to inaction for the present, Lady Harry's maid walked
irritably up and down the conservatory, forgetting the flowers. Through
the open back door of the cottage the cheap clock in the hall poured
its harsh little volume of sound, striking the hour. "I wonder," she
said to herself, "if those two wicked ones have found their way to a
hospital yet?" That guess happened to have hit the mark. The two wicked
ones were really approaching a hospital, well known to the doctor by
more previous visits than one. At the door they were met by a French
physician, attached to the institution--the writer of the letter which
had reached Mr. Vimpany in the morning.