Blind Love

At this stage in the narrative, Mountjoy felt compelled to ask

questions more searching than he had put to Iris yet. It was possible

that she might be trusting her own impressions of Lord Harry, with the

ill-placed confidence of a woman innocently self-deceived.

"Did he submit willingly to your leaving him?" Mountjoy said.

"Not at first," she replied.

"Has he released you from that rash engagement, of some years since,

which pledged you to marry him?"

"No."

"Did he allude to the engagement, on this occasion?"

"He said he held to it as the one hope of his life."

"And what did you say?"

"I implored him not to distress me."

"Did you say nothing more positive than that?"

"I couldn't help thinking, Hugh, of all that he had tried to do to save

Arthur. But I insisted on leaving him--and I have left him."

"Do you remember what he said at parting?"

"He said, 'While I live, I love you.'"

As she repeated the words, there was an involuntary change to

tenderness in her voice which was not lost on Mountjoy.

"I must be sure," he said to her gravely, "of what I tell your father

when I go back to him. Can I declare, with a safe conscience, that you

will never see Lord Harry again?"

"My mind is made up never to see him again." She had answered firmly so

far. Her next words were spoken with hesitation, in tones that

faltered. "But I am sometimes afraid," she said, "that the decision may

not rest with me."

"What do you mean?"

"I would rather not tell you."

"That is a strange answer, Iris."

"I value your good opinion, Hugh, and I am afraid of losing it."

"Nothing has ever altered my opinion of you," he replied, "and nothing

ever will."

She looked at him anxiously, with the closest attention. Little by

little, the expression of doubt in her face disappeared; she knew how

he loved her--she resolved to trust him.

"My friend," she began abruptly, "education has done nothing for me.

Since I left Ireland, I have sunk (I don't know how or why) into a

state of superstitious fear. Yes! I believe in a fatality which is

leading me back to Lord Harry, in spite of myself. Twice already, since

I left home, I have met with him; and each time I have been the means

of saving him--once at the milestone, and once at the ruin in the wood.

If my father still accuses me of being in love with an adventurer, you

can say with perfect truth that I am afraid of him. I am afraid of

the third meeting. I have done my best to escape from that man; and,

step by step, as I think I am getting away, Destiny is taking me back

to him. I may be on my way to him here, hidden in this wretched little

town. Oh, don't despise me! Don't be ashamed of me!"