Blind Love

Only a trifle! Among ether deficient sensibilities in the strange

nature of Iris, Sir Giles had observed an imperfect appreciation of the

dignity of his social position. Here was a new proof of it! The

temptation to inspire sentiments of alarm--not unmingled with

admiration--in the mind of his insensible goddaughter, by exhibiting

himself as a public character threatened by a conspiracy, was more than

the banker's vanity could resist. Before he left the room, he

instructed Dennis to tell Miss Henley what had happened, and to let her

judge for herself whether he had been needlessly alarmed by, what she

was pleased to call, "a mere trifle."

Dennis Howmore must have been more than mortal, if he could have

related his narrative of events without being influenced by his own

point of view. On the first occasion when he mentioned Arthur

Mountjoy's name, Iris showed a sudden interest in his strange story

which took him by surprise.

"You know Mr. Arthur?" he said.

"Knew him!" Iris repeated. "He was my playfellow when we were both

children. He is as dear to me as if he was my brother. Tell me at

once--is he really in danger?"

Dennis honestly repeated what he had already said, on that subject, to

his master. Miss Henley, entirely agreeing with him, was eager to warn

Arthur of his position. There was no telegraphic communication with the

village which was near his farm. She could only write to him, and she

did write to him, by that day's post--having reasons of her own for

anxiety, which forbade her to show her letter to Dennis. Well aware of

the devoted friendship which united Lord Harry and Arthur Mountjoy--and

bearing in mind the newspaper report of the Irish lord's rash

association with the Invincibles--her fears now identified the noble

vagabond as the writer of the anonymous letters, which had so seriously

excited her godfather's doubts of his own safety.

When Sir Giles returned, and took her with him to his house, he spoke

of his consultation with the Sergeant in terms which increased her

dread of what might happen in the future. She was a dull and silent

guest, during the interval that elapsed before it would be possible to

receive Arthur's reply. The day arrived--and the post brought no relief

to her anxieties. The next day passed without a letter. On the morning

of the fourth day, Sir Giles rose later than usual. His correspondence

was sent to him from the office, at breakfast-time. After opening one

of the letters, he dispatched a messenger in hot haste to the police.