Blind Love - Page 63/304

"Yes."

"Is he coming here?"

"No; I have heard from him."

"A letter?"

"A telegram," Mountjoy explained, "in answer to a letter from me. I did

my best to press your claims on him, and I am glad to say I have not

failed."

"Hugh, dear Hugh! have you succeeded in reconciling us?"

Mountjoy produced the telegram. "I asked Mr. Henley," he said, "to let

me know at once whether he would receive you, and to answer plainly Yes

or No. The message might have been more kindly expressed--but, at any

rate, it is a favourable reply."

Iris read the telegram. "Is there another father in the world," she

said sadly, "who would tell his daughter, when she asks to come home,

that he will receive her on trial?"

"Surely, you are not offended with him, Iris?"

She shook her head. "I am like you," she said. "I know him too well to

be offended. He shall find me dutiful, he shall find me patient. I am

afraid I must not expect you to wait for me in Honeybuzzard. Will you

tell my father that I hope to return to him in a week's time?"

"Pardon me, Iris, I see no reason why you should waste a week in this

town. On the contrary, the more eager you show yourself to return to

your father, the more likely you are to recover your place in his

estimation. I had planned to take you home by the next train."

Iris looked at him in astonishment. "Is it possible that you mean what

you say?" she asked.

"My dear, I do most assuredly mean what I say. Why should you hesitate?

What possible reason can there be for staying here any longer?"

"Oh, Hugh, how you disappoint me! What has become of your kind feeling,

your sense of justice, your consideration for others? Poor Mrs.

Vimpany!"

"What has Mrs. Vimpany to do with it?"

Iris was indignant.

"What has Mrs. Vimpany to do with it?" she repeated. "After all that I

owe to that good creature's kindness; after I have promised to

accompany her--she has so few happy days, poor soul!--on excursions to

places of interest in the neighbourhood, do you expect me to leave

her--no! it's worse than that--do you expect me to throw her aside like

an old dress that I have worn out? And this after I have so unjustly,

so ungratefully suspected her in my own thoughts? Shameful! shameful!"