Blind Love

"No!"

"You false woman!"

"Don't forget, Miss Henley, that you are speaking to a lady."

"I am speaking to Lord Harry's spy!"

Their voices rose loud; the excitement on either side had reached its

climax; neither the one nor the other was composed enough to notice the

sound of the carriage-wheels, leaving the house again. In the

meanwhile, nobody came to the drawing-room door. Mrs. Vimpany was too

well acquainted with the hot-headed Irish lord not to conclude that he

would have made himself heard, and would have found his way to Iris,

but for some obstacle, below stairs, for which he was not prepared. The

doctor's wife did justice to the doctor at last. Another person had, in

all probability, heard Lord Harry's voice--and that person might have

been her husband.

Was it possible that he remembered the service which she had asked of

him; and, even if he had succeeded in calling it to mind, was his

discretion to be trusted? As those questions occurred to her, the

desire to obtain some positive information was more than she was able

to resist. Mrs. Vimpany attempted to leave the drawing-room for the

second time.

But the same motive had already urged Miss Henley to action. Again, the

younger woman outstripped the older. Iris descended the stairs,

resolved to discover the cause of the sudden suspension of events in

the lower part of the house.