"I don't understand----" began Mrs. Drass, when the doctor cut her short with a short and rude laugh.
"Oh, you understand well enough!" he said, contemptuously. "I hear gossip as well as you do. Miss Clyde wants to marry Lovel, and cannot do so till Milly is out of the way. In the interest of your friend, you wish Milly to marry Herne, and so will not tell him of this--flirtation."
"There is some truth in that," admitted Mrs. Drass, "although you put it rudely."
"I put it plainly, you mean," said Lester. "You can go away content, madam, for I shall speak to Milly."
"Poor motherless girl! She needs talking to," sighed Mrs. Drass, and prepared to take her leave, satisfied in every way with the success of her mission.
Before searching for Milly, who was yet absent, Iris determined to speak to her stepfather. The ice had been broken, and it was now easier to induce him to interfere. When Mrs. Drass took her departure, which she did almost immediately, Iris entered the doctor's consulting room at once. Lester already had got out the brandy bottle and was filling himself a glass. He looked red-eyed and wrathful, and turned viciously on Iris before she had time to open her mouth.
"What is this I hear about Milly and Mr. Lovel?" he snarled. "Is her name to be on the lips of every village gossip? Can't you look after her?"
"No, I can't. She laughs at me."
"Where is she? I'll take care she doesn't laugh at me!" cried Lester. "Send her in here at once."
"How can I? She is not yet in."