"Nay," interrupted Iris,—"nay, godmother, ask me for no further reasons than I have already given for my aversion to M. de Morville. Am I not jealous of the smallest portion of your favour? and do I not suffer the most cruel torments each time you lavish the rich treasures of your love on beings wholly incapable of valuing and appreciating you as I do; still, I would not, for my own selfish gratification, deprive you of any certain happiness, because that happiness would cause my wretchedness and despair. Oh, no; far from it;—there have been times when such evil thoughts have presented themselves to my imagination,—but I have been enabled to struggle with and overcome them!"
"Then I am to understand," said Madame de Hansfeld, bitterly, "that you grant me permission to return the affection of M. de Morville?"
"I will do more than that," returned the mulatto, casting a piercing look on her mistress.
Without being able either to account for her own sensations, or the meaning of the singular look bestowed on her by Iris, Madame de Hansfeld felt a deep blush steal over her cheek as she hastily bent her head to conceal her emotion.
In a more humble and subdued tone, the mulatto resumed, by saying,—
"And now that I have told you all I know concerning Raphael, I will also enlighten you on subjects relating to the prince."
"At length, then," murmured the princess, "this fearful mystery will be explained—she will confess all."
CHAPTER XXXIV
[REVELATIONS]
After remaining silent a few minutes, Iris, again fixing her scrutinising glances on the countenance of her mistress, thus resumed:—