Blind Love

He sat down by her and took her hand. The loving look in his eyes,

which she knew so well, was not in them now; they expressed doubt, and

something with it which suggested an effort at conciliation.

"I am fearing I shall surprise you," he said.

"Don't keep me in suspense!" she returned. "What is it?"

He smiled uneasily: "It's something about Vimpany."

Having got as far as that, he stopped. She drew her hand away from him.

"I understand now," she said; "I must endeavour to control myself--you

have something to tell me which will try my temper."

He held up his hands in humorous protest: "Ah, my darling, here's your

vivid imagination again, making mountains out of molehills, as they

say! It's nothing half so serious as you seem to think; I have only to

tell you of a little change."

"A little change?" she repeated. "What change?"

"Well, my dear, you see--" He hesitated and recovered himself. "I mean,

you must know that Vimpany's plans are altered. He won't any longer

occupy his bedroom in the cottage here."

Iris looked inexpressibly relieved. "Going away, at last!" she

exclaimed. "Oh, Harry, if you have been mystifying me, I hope you will

never do it again. It isn't like you; it's cruel to alarm me about

nothing. Mr. Vimpany's empty bedroom will be the most interesting room

in the house, when I look into it to-night."

Lord Harry got up, and walked to the window. As a sign of trouble in

his mind, and of an instinctive effort to relieve it, the object of

this movement was well-known to Iris. She followed him and stood by his

side. It was now plain to her that there was something more to be

told--and that he was hesitating how to confide it to his wife.

"Go on," she said resignedly.

He had expected her to take his arm, or perhaps to caress him, or at

least to encourage him by her gentlest words and her prettiest smiles.

The steady self-restraint which she now manifested was a sign, as he

interpreted it, of suppressed resentment. Shrinking, honestly

shrinking, from the bare possibility of another quarrel, he confronted

the hard necessities of further confession.

"Well, now," he said, "it's only this--you mustn't look into the empty

bedroom to-night."

"Why not?"

"Ah, for the best of all good reasons! Because you might find somebody

in there."