"I don't understand you, Mr. Vimpany."
The doctor pointed to the fern which had just been the object of Lady Harry's care.
"You have been helping that sickly plant there to live and thrive," he said, "and I have felt some curiosity in watching you. There is another sickly plant, which I have undertaken to rear if the thing can be done. My gardening is of the medical kind—I can only carry it on indoors—and whatever else it may be, I tell you plainly, like the outspoken sort of fellow I am, it's not likely to prove agreeable to a lady. No offence, I hope? Your humble servant is only trying to produce the right sort of impression—and takes leave to doubt his lordship in one particular."
"In what particular, sir?"
"I'll put it in the form of a question, ma'am. Has my friend persuaded you to make arrangements for leaving the cottage?"
Iris looked at Lord Harry's friend without attempting to conceal her opinion of him.
"I call that an impertinent question," she said. "By what right do you presume to inquire into what my husband and I may, or may not, have said to each other?"
"Will you do me a favour, my lady? Or, if that is asking too much, perhaps you will not object to do justice to yourself. Suppose you try to exercise the virtue of self-control?
"Quite needless, Mr. Vimpany. Pray understand that you are not capable of making me angry."
"Many thanks, Lady Harry: you encourage me to go on. When I was bold enough to speak of your leaving the cottage, my motive was to prevent you from being needlessly alarmed."