Blind Love

Sir Giles had anticipated the appearance of fear, and the reality of

humble apologies. She had answered him indignantly, with a heightened

colour, and with tears in her eyes. His sense of his own social

importance was wounded to the quick. "Who is the man you are speaking

of?" he asked loftily. "And what is your excuse for having gone to the

milestone to save him--hidden under my cloak, disguised in my hat?"

"Don't waste precious time in asking questions!" was the desperate

reply. "Undo the harm that you have done already. Your help--oh, I mean

what I say!--may yet preserve Arthur's life. Go to the farm, and save

him."

Sir Giles's anger assumed a new form, it indulged in an elaborate

mockery of respect. He took his watch from his pocket, and consulted it

satirically. "Must I make an excuse?" he asked with a clumsy assumption

of humility.

"No! you must go."

"Permit me to inform you, Miss Henley, that the last train started more

than two hours since."

"What does that matter? You are rich enough to hire a train."

Sir Giles, the actor, could endure it no longer; he dropped the mask,

and revealed Sir Giles, the man. His clerk was summoned by a peremptory

ring of the bell. "Attend Miss Henley to the house," he said. "You may

come to your senses after a night's rest," he continued, turning

sternly to Iris. "I will receive your excuses in the morning."

In the morning, the breakfast was ready as usual at nine o'clock. Sir

Giles found himself alone at the table.

He sent an order to one of the women-servants to knock at Miss Henley's

door. There was a long delay. The housekeeper presented herself in a

state of alarm; she had gone upstairs to make the necessary

investigation in her own person. Miss Henley was not in her room; the

maid was not in her room; the beds had not been slept in; the heavy

luggage was labelled--"To be called for from the hotel." And there was

an end of the evidence which the absent Iris had left behind her.

Inquiries were made at the hotel. The young lady had called there, with

her maid, early on that morning. They had their travelling-bags with

them; and Miss Henley had left directions that the luggage was to be

placed under care of the landlord until her return. To what destination

she had betaken herself nobody knew.

Sir Giles was too angry to remember what she had said to him on the

previous night, or he might have guessed at the motive which had led to

her departure. "Her father has done with her already," he said; "and I

have done with her now." The servants received orders not to admit Miss

Henley, if her audacity contemplated a return to her godfather's house.