ies your heart along with
him. I wonder you are not ashamed of such an attachment as that."

He had stung her at last. She roused herself, and answered him.

"Harry has led a wild life," she said; "he has committed serious
faults, and he may live to do worse than he has done yet. To what
degradation, bad company, and a bad bringing-up may yet lead him, I
leave his enemies to foresee. But I tell you this, he has redeeming
qualities which you, and people like you, are not good Christians
enough to discover. He has friends who can still appreciate him--your
nephew, Arthur Mountjoy, is one of them. Oh, I know it by Arthur's
letters to me! Blame Lord Harry as you may, I tell you he has the
capacity for repentance in him, and one day--when it is too late, I
dare say--he will show it. I can never be his wife. We are parted,
never in all likelihood to meet again. Well, he is the only man whom I
have ever loved; and he is the only man whom I ever shall love. If you
think this state of mind proves that I am as bad as he is, I won't
contradict you. Do we any of us know how bad we are----? Have you heard
of Harry lately?"

The sudden transition, from an earnest and devoted defence of the man,
to an easy and familiar inquiry about him, startled Sir Giles.

For the moment, he had nothing to say; Iris had made him think. She had
shown a capacity for mastering her strongest feelings, at the moment
when they threatened to overcome her, which is very rarely found in a
young woman. How to manage her was a problem for patient resolution to
solve. The banker's obstinacy, rather than his conviction, had
encouraged him to hold to the hope of Hugh's marriage, even after his
nephew had been refused for the second time. His headstrong goddaughter
had come to visit him of her own accord. She had not forgotten the days
of her childhood, when he had some influence over her--when she had
found him kinder to her than her father had ever been. Sir Giles saw
that he had taken the wrong tone with Iris. His anger had not alarmed
her; his opinion had not influenced her. In Hugh's interests, he
determined to try what consideration and indulgence would do towards
cultivating the growth of her regard for him. Finding that she had left
her maid and her luggage at the hotel, he hospitably insisted on their
removal to his own house.

"While you are in Ardoon, Iris, you are my guest," he said.

She pleased him by readily accepting the invitation--and then