Provided by nature with ironclad constitutional defences against
illness, Mr. Henley was now and then troubled with groundless doubts of
his own state of health. Acting under a delusion of this kind, he
imagined symptoms which rendered a change of residence necessary from
his town house to his country house, a few days only after his daughter
had decided on the engagement of her new maid.
Iris gladly, even eagerly, adapted her own wishes to the furtherance of
her father's plans. Sorely tried by anxiety and suspense, she needed
all that rest and tranquillity could do for her. The first week in the
country produced an improvement in her health. Enjoying the serene
beauty of woodland and field, breathing the delicious purity of the
air--sometimes cultivating her own corner in the garden, and sometimes
helping the women in the lighter labours of the dairy--her nerves
recovered their tone, and her spirits rose again to their higher level.
In the performance of her duties the new maid justified Miss Henley's
confidence in her, during the residence of the household in the
country.
She showed, in her own undemonstrative way, a grateful sense of her
mistress's kindness. Her various occupations were intelligently and
attentively pursued; her even temper never seemed to vary; she gave the
servants no opportunities of complaining of her. But one peculiarity in
her behaviour excited hostile remark, below-stairs. On the occasions
when she was free to go out for the day, she always found some excuse
for not joining any of the other female servants, who might happen to
be similarly favoured. The one use she made of her holiday was to
travel by railway to some place unknown; always returning at the right
time in the evening. Iris knew enough of the sad circumstances to be
able to respect her motives, and to appreciate the necessity for
keeping the object of these solitary journeys a secret from her
fellow-servants.
The pleasant life in the country house had lasted for nearly a month,
when the announcement of Hugh's approaching return to England reached
Iris. The fatal end of his father's long and lingering illness had
arrived, and the funeral had taken place. Business, connected with his
succession to the property, would detain him in London for a few days.
Submitting to this necessity, he earnestly expressed the hope of seeing
Iris again, the moment he was at liberty.
Hearing the good news, Mr. Henley obstinately returned to his
plans--already twice thwarted--for promoting the marriage of Mountjoy
and Iris.
He wrote to invite Hugh to his house in a tone of cordiality which
astonished his daughter; and when the guest arrived, the genial welcome
of the host had but one defect--Mr. Henley overacted his part. He gave
the two young people perpetual opportunities of speaking to each other
privately; and, on the principle that none are so blind as those who
won't see, he failed to discover that the relations between them
continued to be relations of friendship, do what he might. Hugh's long
attendance on his dying father had left him depressed in spirits; Iris
understood him, and felt for him. He was not ready with his opinion of
the new maid, after he had seen Fanny Mere. "My inclination," he said,
"is to trust the girl. And yet, I hesitate to follow my
inclination--and I don't know why."