Blind Love - Page 76/304

"I have kept your secret, and done your dirty work," Mrs. Vimpany

replied. "And what is my reward? Miss Henley can tell you how your

Irish blundering has ruined me in a lady's estimation. Shake hands,

indeed! You will never shake hands with Me again as long as you live!"

She said those words without looking at him; her eyes were resting on

Iris now. From the moment when she had seen the two together, she knew

that it was all over; further denial in the face of plain proofs would

be useless indeed! Submission was the one alternative left.

"Miss Henley," she said, "if you can feel pity for another woman's

sorrow and shame, let me have a last word with you--out of this man's

hearing."

There was nothing artificial in her tones or her looks; no acting could

have imitated the sad sincerity with which she spoke. Touched by that

change, Iris accompanied her as she ascended the stairs. After a little

hesitation, Lord Harry followed them. Mrs. Vimpany turned on him when

they reached the drawing-room landing. "Must I shut the door in your

face?" she asked.

He was as pleasantly patient as ever: "You needn't take the trouble to do that, my dear; I'll only ask your

leave to sit down and wait on the stairs. When you have done with Miss

Henley, just call me in. And, by the way, don't be alarmed in case of a

little noise--say a heavy man tumbling downstairs. If the blackguard

it's your misfortune to be married to happens to show himself, I shall

be under the necessity of kicking him. That's all."

Mrs. Vimpany closed the door. She spoke to Iris respectfully, as she

might have addressed a stranger occupying a higher rank in life than

herself.

"There is an end, madam, to one short acquaintance; and, as we both

know, an end to it for ever. When we first met--let me tell the truth

at last!--I felt a malicious pleasure in deceiving you. After that

time, I was surprised to find that you grew on my liking, Can you

understand the wickedness that tried to resist you? It was useless;

your good influence has been too strong for me. Strange, isn't it? I

have lived a life of deceit, among bad people. What could you expect of

me, after that? I heaped lies on lies--I would have denied that the sun

was in the heavens--rather than find myself degraded in your opinion.

Well! that is all over--useless, quite useless now. Pray don't mistake

me. I am not attempting to excuse myself; a confession was due to you;

the confession is made. It is too late to hope that you will forgive

me. If you will permit it, I have only one favour to ask. Forget me."