rried
out of the room. Fanny followed her mistress up the stairs. In her own
very different way, the maid was as impenetrably composed as Mr.
Vimpany himself. "There was a second letter found in the gentleman's
pocket, Miss," she said. "Will you excuse my reminding you that you
have not read it yet."

Iris read the lines that follow:

"Forgive me, my dear, for the last time. My letter is to say that I
shall trouble you no more in this world--and, as for the other world,
who knows? I brought some money back with me, from the goldfields. It
was not enough to be called a fortune--I mean the sort of fortune which
might persuade your father to let you marry me. Well! here in England,
I had an opportunity of making ten times more of it on the turf; and,
let me add, with private information of the horses which I might
certainly count on to win. I don't stop to ask by what cruel roguery I
was tempted to my ruin. My money is lost; and, with it, my last hope of
a happy and harmless life with you comes to an end. I die, Iris dear,
with the death of that hope. Something in me seems to shrink from
suicide in the ugly gloom of great overgrown London. I prefer to make
away with myself among the fields, where the green will remind me of
dear old Ireland. When you think of me sometimes, say to yourself the
poor wretch loved me--and perhaps the earth will lie lighter on Harry
for those kind words, and the flowers (if you favour me by planting a
few) may grow prettier on my grave."

There it ended.

The heart of Iris sank as she read that melancholy farewell, expressed
in language at once wild and childish. If he survived his desperate
attempt at self-destruction, to what end would it lead? In silence, the
woman who loved him put his letter back in her bosom. Watching her
attentively--affected, it was impossible to say how, by that mute
distress--Fanny Mere proposed to go downstairs, and ask once more what
hope there might be for the wounded man. Iris knew the doctor too well
to let the maid leave her on a useless errand.

"Some men might be kindly ready to relieve my suspense," she said; "the
man downstairs is not one of them. I must wait till he comes to me, or
sends for me. But there is something I wish to say to you, while we are
alone. You have been but a short time in my service, Fanny. Is it too
soon to ask if you feel some interest in me?"

"If I can comfort you or help you, Miss, be pleased to tell me how."
She made that