Blind Love by Wilkie Collins (beginner reading books for adults txt) đ
- Author: Wilkie Collins
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âHow can you doubt it!â
âMy dear, this is a delicate subject for me to enter on.â
âAnd a shameful subject for me!â Iris broke out bitterly. âHugh! you are an angel, by comparison with that manâhow debased I must be to love himâhow unworthy of your good opinion! Ask me anything you like; have no mercy on me. Oh,â she cried, with reckless contempt for herself, âwhy donât you beat me? I deserve it!â
Mountjoy was well enough acquainted with the natures of women to pass over that passionate outbreak, instead of fanning the flame in her by reasoning and remonstrance.
âYour father will not listen to the expression of feeling,â he continued; âbut it is possible to rouse his sense of justice by the expression of facts. Help me to speak to him more plainly of Lord Harry than you could speak in your letters. I want to know what has happened, from the time when events at Ardoon brought you and the young lord together again, to the time when you left him in Ireland after my brotherâs death. If I seem to expect too much of you, Iris, pray remember that I am speaking with a true regard for your interests.â
In those words, he made his generous appeal to her. She proved herself to be worthy of it.
Stated briefly, the retrospect began with the mysterious anonymous letters which had been addressed to Sir Giles.
Lord Harryâs explanation had been offered to Iris gratefully, but with some reserve, after she had told him who the stranger at the milestone really was. âI entreat you to pardon me, if I shrink from entering into particulars,â he had said. âCircumstances, at the time, amply justified me in the attempt to use the bankerâs political influence as a means of securing Arthurâs safety. I knew enough of Sir Gilesâs mean nature to be careful in trusting him; but I did hope to try what my personal influence might do. If he had possessed a tenth part of your courage, Arthur might have been alive, and safe in England, at this moment. I canât say any more; I darenât say any more; it maddens me when I think of it!â He abruptly changed the subject, and interested Iris by speaking of other and later events. His association with the Invinciblesâinexcusably rash and wicked as he himself confessed it to beâhad enabled him to penetrate, and for a time to defeat secretly, the murderous designs of the brotherhood. His appearances, first at the farmhouse and afterwards at the ruin in the wood were referable to changes in the plans of the assassins which had come to his knowledge. When Iris had met with him he was on the watch, believing that his friend would take the short way back through the wood, and well aware that his own life might pay the penalty if he succeeded in warning Arthur. After the terrible discovery of the murder (committed on the high road), and the escape of the miscreant who had been guilty of the crime, the parting of Lord Harry and Miss Henley had been the next event. She had left him, on her return to England, and had refused to consent to any of the future meetings between them which he besought her to grant.
At this stage in the narrative, Mountjoy felt compelled to ask questions more searching than he had put to Iris yet. It was possible that she might be trusting her own impressions of Lord Harry, with the ill-placed confidence of a woman innocently self-deceived.
âDid he submit willingly to your leaving him?â Mountjoy said.
âNot at first,â she replied.
âHas he released you from that rash engagement, of some years since, which pledged you to marry him?â
âNo.â
âDid he allude to the engagement, on this occasion?â
âHe said he held to it as the one hope of his life.â
âAnd what did you say?â
âI implored him not to distress me.â
âDid you say nothing more positive than that?â
âI couldnât help thinking, Hugh, of all that he had tried to do to save Arthur. But I insisted on leaving himâand I have left him.â
âDo you remember what he said at parting?â
âHe said, âWhile I live, I love you.ââ
As she repeated the words, there was an involuntary change to tenderness in her voice which was not lost on Mountjoy.
âI must be sure,â he said to her gravely, âof what I tell your father when I go back to him. Can I declare, with a safe conscience, that you will never see Lord Harry again?â
âMy mind is made up never to see him again.â She had answered firmly so far. Her next words were spoken with hesitation, in tones that faltered. âBut I am sometimes afraid,â she said, âthat the decision may not rest with me.â
âWhat do you mean?â
âI would rather not tell you.â
âThat is a strange answer, Iris.â
âI value your good opinion, Hugh, and I am afraid of losing it.â
âNothing has ever altered my opinion of you,â he replied, âand nothing ever will.â
She looked at him anxiously, with the closest attention. Little by little, the expression of doubt in her face disappeared; she knew how he loved herâshe resolved to trust him.
âMy friend,â she began abruptly, âeducation has done nothing for me. Since I left Ireland, I have sunk (I donât know how or why) into a state of superstitious fear. Yes! I believe in a fatality which is leading me back to Lord Harry, in spite of myself. Twice already, since I left home, I have met with him; and each time I have been the means of saving himâonce at the milestone, and once at the ruin in the wood. If my father still accuses me of being in love with an adventurer, you can say with perfect truth that I am afraid of him. I am afraid of the third meeting. I have done my best to escape from that man; and, step by step, as I think I am getting away, Destiny is taking me back to him. I may be on my way to him here, hidden in this wretched little town. Oh, donât despise me! Donât be ashamed of me!â
âMy dear, I am interestedâdeeply interested in you. That there may be some such influence as Destiny in our poor mortal lives, I dare not deny. But I donât agree with your conclusion. What Destiny has to do with you and with me, neither you nor I can pretend to know beforehand. In the presence of that great mystery, humanity must submit to be ignorant. Wait, Irisâwait!â
She answered him with the simplicity of a docile child: âI will do anything you tell me.â
Mountjoy was too fond of her to say more of Lord Harry, for that day. He was careful to lead the talk to a topic which might be trusted to provoke no agitating thoughts. Finding Iris to all appearance established in the doctorâs house, he was naturally anxious to know something of the person who must have invited herâthe doctorâs wife.
MOUNTJOY began by alluding to the second of Miss Henleyâs letters to her father, and to a passage in it which mentioned Mrs. Vimpany with expressions of the sincerest gratitude.
âI should like to know more,â he said, âof a lady whose hospitality at home seems to equal her kindness as a fellow-traveller. Did you first meet with her on the railway?â
âShe travelled by the same train to Dublin, with me and my maid, but not in the same carriage,â Iris answered; âI was so fortunate as to meet with her on the voyage from Dublin to Holyhead. We had a rough crossing; and Rhoda suffered so dreadfully from sea-sickness that she frightened me. The stewardess was attending to ladies who were calling for her in all directions; I really donât know what misfortune might not have happened, if Mrs. Vimpany had not come forward in the kindest manner, and offered help. She knew so wonderfully well what was to be done, that she astonished me. âI am the wife of a doctor,â she said; âand I am only imitating what I have seen my husband do, when his assistance has been required, at sea, in weather like this.â In her poor state of health, Rhoda was too much exhausted to go on by the train, when we got to Holyhead. She is the best of good girls, and I am fond of her, as you know. If I had been by myself, I daresay I should have sent for medical help. What do you think dear Mrs. Vimpany offered to do? âYour maid is only faint,â she said. âGive her rest and some iced wine, and she will be well enough to go on by the slow train. Donât be frightened about her; I will wait with you.â And she did wait. Are there many strangers, Hugh, who are as unselfishly good to others as my chance-acquaintance in the steamboat?â
âVery few, I am afraid.â
Mountjoy made that reply with some little embarrassment; conscious of a doubt of Mrs. Vimpanyâs disinterested kindness, which seemed to be unworthy of a just man.
Iris went on.
âRhoda was sufficiently recovered,â she said, âto travel by the next train, and there seemed to be no reason for feeling any more anxiety. But, after a time, the fatigue of the journey proved to be too much for her. The poor girl turned paleâand fainted. Mrs. Vimpany revived her, but as it turned out, only for a while. She fell into another fainting fit; and my travelling-companion began to look anxious. There was some difficulty in restoring Rhoda to her senses. In dread of another attack, I determined to stop at the next station. It looked such a poor place, when we got to it, that I hesitated. Mrs. Vimpany persuaded me to go on. The next station, she said, was her station. âStop there,â she suggested, âand let my husband look at the girl. I ought not perhaps to say it, but you will find no better medical man out of London.â I took the good creatureâs advice gratefully. What else could I do?â
âWhat would you have done,â Mountjoy inquired, âif Rhoda had been strong enough to get to the end of the journey?â
âI should have gone on to London, and taken refuge in a lodgingâyou were in town, as I believed, and my father might relent in time. As it was, I felt my lonely position keenly. To meet with kind people, like Mr. Vimpany and his wife, was a real blessing to such a friendless creature as I amâto say nothing of the advantage to Rhoda, who is getting better every day. I should like you to see Mrs. Vimpany, if she is at home. She is a little formal and old fashioned in her mannerâbut I am sure you will be pleased with her. Ah! you look round the room! They are poor, miserably poor for persons in their position, these worthy friends of mine. I have had the greatest difficulty in persuading them to let me contribute my share towards
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