The doctor's wife followed Miss Henley out of the room, as far as the
landing--and waited there.
She had her reasons for placing this restraint on herself. The position
of the landing concealed her from the view of a person in the hall. If
she only listened for the sound of voices she might safely discover
whether Lord Harry was, or was not, still in the house. In the first
event, it would be easy to interrupt his interview with Iris, before
the talk could lead to disclosures which Mrs. Vimpany had every reason
to dread. In the second event, there would be no need to show herself.
Meanwhile, Iris opened the dining-room door and looked in.
Nobody was there. The one other room on the ground floor, situated at
the back of the building, was the doctor's consulting-room. She knocked
at the door. Mr. Vimpany's voice answered: "Come in." There he was
alone, drinking brandy and water, and smoking his big black cigar.
"Where is Lord Harry?" she said.
"In Ireland, I suppose," Mr. Vimpany answered quietly.
Iris wasted no time in making useless inquiries. She closed the door
again, and left him. He, too, was undoubtedly in the conspiracy to keep
her deceived. How had it been done? Where was the wild lord, at that
moment?
Whilst she was pursuing these reflections in the hall, Rhoda came up
from the servants' tea-table in the kitchen. Her mistress gave her the
necessary instructions for packing, and promised to help her before
long. Mrs. Vimpany's audacious resolution to dispute the evidence of
her own senses, still dwelt on Miss Henley's mind. Too angry to think
of the embarrassment which an interview with Lord Harry would produce,
after they had said their farewell words in Ireland, she was determined
to prevent the doctor's wife from speaking to him first, and claiming
him as an accomplice in her impudent denial of the truth. If he had
been, by any chance, deluded into leaving the house, he would sooner or
later discover the trick that had been played on him, and would
certainly return. Iris took a chair in the hall.
* * * * * * * It is due to the doctor to relate that he had indeed justified his
wife's confidence in him.
The diamond pin, undergoing valuation in London, still represented a
present terror in his mind. The money, the money--he was the most
attentive husband in England when he thought of the money! At the time
when Lord Harry's carriage stopped at his house-door, he was in the
dining-room, taking a bottle of brandy from the cellaret in the
sideboard. Looking instantly out of the window, he discovered who the
visitor was, and decided on consulting his instructions in the
pocket-diary. The attempt was rendered useless, as soon as he had
opened the book, by the unlucky activity of the servant in answering
the door. Her master stopped her in the hall. He was pleasantly
conscious of the recovery of his cunning. But his memory (far from
active under the most favourable circumstances) was slower than ever at
helping him now. On the spur of the moment he could only call to mind
that he had been ordered to prevent a meeting between Lord Harry and
Iris. "Show the gentleman into my consulting-room," he said.