"In that case, I shall own that I was wrong, and shall ask you to
forgive me."
The finer and better nature of Iris recovered its influence at these
words. "It is I who ought to beg pardon," she said. "Oh, I wish I could
think before I speak: how insolent and ill-tempered I have been! But
suppose I turn out to be right, Hugh, what will you do then?"
"Then, my dear, it will be my duty to take you and your maid away from
this house, and to tell your father what serious reasons there are"----
He abruptly checked himself. Mrs. Vimpany had returned; she was in
perfect possession of her lofty courtesy, sweetened by the modest
dignity of her smile.
"I have left you, Miss Henley, in such good company," she said, with a
gracious inclination of her head in the direction of Mountjoy, "that I
need hardly repeat my apologies--unless, indeed, I am interrupting a
confidential conversation."
It was possible that Iris might have betrayed herself, when the
doctor's wife had looked at her after examining the address on the
packet. In this case Mrs. Vimpany's allusion to "a confidential
conversation" would have operated as a warning to a person of
experience in the by-ways of deceit. Mountjoy's utmost exertion of
cunning was not capable of protecting him on such conditions as these.
The opportunity of trying his proposed experiment with Lord Harry's
name seemed to have presented itself already. He rashly seized on it.
"You have interrupted nothing that was confidential," he hastened to
assure Mrs. Vimpany. "We have been speaking of a reckless young
gentleman, who is an acquaintance of ours. If what I hear is true, he
has already become public property; his adventures have found their way
into some of the newspapers."
Here, if Mrs. Vimpany had answered Hugh's expectations, she ought to
have asked who the young gentleman was. She merely listened in polite
silence.
With a woman's quickness of perception, Iris saw that Mountjoy had not
only pounced on his opportunity prematurely, but had spoken with a
downright directness of allusion which must at once have put such a
ready-witted person as Mrs. Vimpany on her guard. In trying to prevent
him from pursuing his unfortunate experiment in social diplomacy, Iris
innocently repeated Mountjoy's own mistake. She, too, seized her
opportunity prematurely. That is to say, she was rash enough to change
the subject.
"You were talking just now, Hugh, of our friend's adventures," she
said; "I am afraid you will find yourself involved in an adventure of
no very agreeable kind, if you engage a bed at the inn. I never saw a
more wretched-looking place."