d the agitation which those words
instantly roused in her. "Lord Harry!" she exclaimed. "Where is he? In
London?"
"Yes--at Parker's Hotel."
"When did he return?"
"Oh, a few days ago; and--what do you think?--he's come back from the
goldfields a lucky man. Damn it, I've let the cat out of the bag! I was
to keep the thing a secret from everybody, and from you most
particularly. He's got some surprise in store for you. Don't tell him
what I've done! We had a little misunderstanding, in past days, at
Honeybuzzard--and, now we are friends again, I don't want to lose his
lordship's interest."
Iris promised to be silent. But to know that the wild lord was in
England again, and to remain in ignorance whether he had, or had not,
returned with the stain of bloodshed on him, was more than she could
endure.
"There is one question I must ask you," she said. "I have reason to
fear that Lord Harry left this country, with a purpose of revenge--"
Mr. Vimpany wanted no further explanation. "Yes, yes; I know. You may
be easy about that. There's been no mischief done, either one way or
the other. The man he was after, when he landed in South Africa (he
told me so himself) has escaped him."
With that reply, the doctor got up in a hurry to bring his visit to an
end. He proposed to take to flight, he remarked facetiously, before
Miss Henley wheedled him into saying anything more.
After opening the door, however, he suddenly returned to Iris, and
added a last word in the strictest confidence.
"If you won't forget to recommend me to your friends," he said, "I'll
trust you with another secret. You will see his lordship in a day or
two, when he returns from the races. Good-bye."
The races! What was Lord Harry doing at the races?
CHAPTER XVII
ON HAMPSTEAD HEATH
IRIS had only to remember the manner in which she and Mountjoy had
disappointed her father, to perceive the serious necessity of
preventing Mountjoy's rival from paying a visit at Mr. Henley's house.
She wrote at once to Lord Harry, at the hotel which Mr. Vimpany had
mentioned, entreating him not to think of calling on her. Being well
aware that he would insist on a meeting, she engaged to write again and
propose an appointment. In making this concession, Iris might have
found it easier to persuade herself that she was yielding to sheer
necessity, if she had not been guiltily conscious of a feeling of
pleasure at the prospect of seeing Lord Harry again,
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