There was no unsteadiness in the doctor's walk, and no flush on his

face. He certainly did strut when he entered the room; and he held up

his head with dignity, when he discovered Mountjoy. But he seemed to

preserve his self-control. Was the man sober again already?

His wife approached him with her set smile; the appearance of her lord

and master filled Mrs. Vimpany with perfectly-assumed emotions of

agreeable surprise.

"This is an unexpected pleasure," she said. "You seldom favour us with

your company, my dear, so early in the evening! Are there fewer

patients in want of your advice than usual?"

"You are mistaken, Arabella. I am here in the performance of a painful

duty."

The doctor's language, and the doctor's manner, presented him to Iris

in a character that was new to her. What effect had he produced on Mrs.

Vimpany? That excellent friend to travellers in distress lowered her

eyes to the floor, and modestly preserved silence. Mr. Vimpany

proceeded to the performance of his duty; his painful responsibility

seemed to strike him at first from a medical point of view.

"If there is a poison which undermines the sources of life," he

remarked, "it is alcohol. If there is a vice that degrades humanity, it

is intoxication. Mr. Mountjoy, are you aware that I am looking at you?"

"Impossible not to be aware of that," Hugh answered. "May I ask why you

are looking at me?" It was not easy to listen gravely to Mr. Vimpany's

denunciation of intemperance, after what had taken place at the dinner

of that day. Hugh smiled. The moral majesty of the doctor entered its

protest.

"This is really shameful," he said. "The least you can do is to take it

seriously."

"What is it?" Mountjoy asked. "And why am I to take it seriously?"

Mr. Vimpany's reply was, to say the least of it, indirect. If such an

expression may be permitted, it smelt of the stage. Viewed in

connection with Mrs. Vimpany's persistent assumption of silent

humility, it suggested to Mountjoy a secret understanding, of some

kind, between husband and wife.

"What has become of your conscience, sir?" Mr. Vimpany demanded. "Is

that silent monitor dead within you? After giving me a bad dinner, do

you demand an explanation? Ha! you shall have it."

Having delivered himself to this effect, he added action to words.

Walking grandly to the door, he threw it open, and saluted Mountjoy

with an ironical bow. Iris observed that act of insolence; her colour

rose, her eyes glittered. "Do you see what he has just done?" she said

to Mrs. Vimpany.




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