Blind Love

"Tell me," he said, "have you ever heard of such a thing as buying an

annuity?"

She knew nothing about it. He carefully explained the method by which a

moderate sum of money might be made to purchase a sufficient income for

life. She offered no objection, when he proposed to write to his lawyer

in London for the necessary particulars. But when he asked her to tell

him what the sum was of which she might be still able to dispose, Iris

hesitated, and made no reply.

This time, Hugh arrived at the right conclusion.

It was only too plain to him that what remained of her money

represented an amount so trifling that she was ashamed to mention it.

Of the need for helping her, there could be no doubt now; and, as for

the means, no difficulties presented themselves to Mountjoy--always

excepting the one obstacle likely to be offered by the woman herself.

Experience warned him to approach her delicately, by the indirect way.

"You know me well enough," he said, "to feel sure that I am incapable

of saying anything which can embarrass you, or cause a moment's

misunderstanding between two old friends. Won't you look at me, Iris,

when I am speaking to you?"

She still looked away from him. "I am afraid of what you are going to

say to me," she answered coldly.

"Then let me say it at once. In one of your letters, written long

since--I don't suppose you remember it--you told me that I was an

obstinate man when I once took a thing into my head. You were quite

right. My dear, I have taken it into my head that you will be as ready

as ever to accept my advice, and will leave me (as your man of

business) to buy the annuity"-She stopped him.

"No," she cried, "I won't hear a word more! Do you think I am

insensible to years of kindness that I have never deserved? Do you

think I forget how nobly you have forgiven me for those cruel refusals

which have saddened your life? Is it possible that you expect me to

borrow money of You?" She started wildly to her feet. "I declare, as

God hears me, I would rather die than take that base, that shameful

advantage of all your goodness to me. The woman never lived who owed so

much to a man, as I owe to you--but not money! Oh, my dear, not money!

not money!"

He was too deeply touched to be able to speak to her--and she saw it.

"What a wretch I am," she said to herself; "I have made his heart

ache!"