ch God forbid!) as to survive him. When a large
share in the newspaper was for sale, do you think I could be ungrateful
enough to let him lose the chance of making our fortune, when the
profits begin to come in? I insisted on advancing the money--we almost
quarrelled about it--but, you know how sweet he is. I said: 'Don't
distress me'; and the dearest of men let me have my own way."

Mountjoy listened in silence. To have expressed what he felt would have
been only to mortify and offend Iris. Old habit (as he had said) had
made the idea of devoting himself to her interests the uppermost idea
in his mind. He asked if the money had all been spent. Hearing that
some of it was still left, he resolved on making the attempt to secure
the remains of her fortune to herself.

"Tell me," he said, "have you ever heard of such a thing as buying an
annuity?"

She knew nothing about it. He carefully explained the method by which a
moderate sum of money might be made to purchase a sufficient income for
life. She offered no objection, when he proposed to write to his lawyer
in London for the necessary particulars. But when he asked her to tell
him what the sum was of which she might be still able to dispose, Iris
hesitated, and made no reply.

This time, Hugh arrived at the right conclusion.

It was only too plain to him that what remained of her money
represented an amount so trifling that she was ashamed to mention it.
Of the need for helping her, there could be no doubt now; and, as for
the means, no difficulties presented themselves to Mountjoy--always
excepting the one obstacle likely to be offered by the woman herself.
Experience warned him to approach her delicately, by the indirect way.

"You know me well enough," he said, "to feel sure that I am incapable
of saying anything which can embarrass you, or cause a moment's
misunderstanding between two old friends. Won't you look at me, Iris,
when I am speaking to you?"

She still looked away from him. "I am afraid of what you are going to
say to me," she answered coldly.

"Then let me say it at once. In one of your letters, written long
since--I don't suppose you remember it--you told me that I was an
obstinate man when I once took a thing into my head. You were quite
right. My dear, I have taken it into my head that you will be as ready
as ever to accept my advice, and will leave me (as your man of
business) to buy the annuity"--

She stopped him.

"No," she cried, "I