By the time Lovel and his oddly-chosen companion had passed out of sight, Iris¹ regained² her composure and returned to the house. She said nothing to Milly, who was now playing waltzes on the jingling³ piano, and did not even re-enter the drawing room. It was quite useless to expostulate further with the spoilt beauty; so Iris went back to help Eliza in the kitchen, and to see after the dinner. Nevertheless, she thought a great deal about Milly's flirtation⁴ with Lovel; and, since she could do nothing with the girl, wondered if it would be wise to inform Dr. Lester of the situation.  
It must be clearly understood that Iris did not wish Milly to marry the Squire⁶ of Barnstead. She was in love with him herself, and would have dearly liked to become his wife. The mysticism of the man attracted her in no small degree, and she sympathised with his aspirations⁷ and religious views. It was clear to the most unobservant that Milly would not make him a good wife; and nothing would have pleased Iris better than that something should occur to interrupt the marriage. But she was resolved that the obstacle should not be placed in the way by her, lest it should be said that she was scheming to obtain Herne for herself. Rather than she should be accused of such selfishness, Iris was determined⁸ to bring about the marriage by every means in her power. The one danger likely to prevent the match was the flirtation of Milly with Lovel; and Iris decided⁹ to tell Dr. Lester of this danger, so that Milly should meet her lover no more. The father alone could save his daughter from jeopardising her future.
 
Unfortunately, Dr. Lester returned from Marborough more or less intoxicated¹⁰, and after a pretence¹¹ of eating retired¹² to his bedroom to sleep off his potations. It was quite useless to appeal to Philip drunk, as Iris knew well; therefore she was obliged to wait till next morning, when there might be some chance of getting Philip sober to take a sensible view of the matter. Milly took no notice of her father's condition, being well used to his debauches, but spent the evening in trimming a hat which she designed to wear to church the next day. Iris sat in the same room, employed with needlework; and took the opportunity of informing Milly what she intended to do. There was nothing secretive about Miss Link; she was an open enemy, and not a snake in the grass; moreover, she hoped by warning Milly of her decision to make her promise to renounce¹³ the Lovel flirtation.
 
"Milly," she said, as they worked rapidly, "have you thought of what I said to you this afternoon?"
 
"About what?" asked the other carelessly.
 
"About Mr. Lovel. Will you promise to stop flirting¹⁴ with him?"
 
"No, I won't!" said Milly flatly; "he amuses me, and I intend to meet him and talk to him as much as I like. If you choose you can tell Darcy."
 
"You know I shan't do that," replied Iris quietly, "and that you are safe in giving me the permission. But I'll tell your father."
 
"Pooh! What does that matter? He won't speak to Darcy: he's too anxious for me to marry the man; I told you that this afternoon."
 
"He will be very angry," cried Iris in despair.
 
"Let him be angry!" returned the dutiful daughter; "he can't kill me!"
 
"O Milly! Milly! Why can't you behave in a more honourable¹⁵ manner? If you love Mr. Lovel, break off the match with Mr. Herne."
 
"And let you have your chance!" sneered¹⁶ Milly, tossing her head. "No, thank you, dear."
 
"Then stop flirting with Mr. Lovel and be true to your future husband."
 
Milly laughed, shook her head, and busied herself with threading a needle. "My future husband," said she slowly; "h'm! perhaps I won't marry him after all."
 
"Then you intend to accept Mr. Lovel?"
 
"No, I intend to do nothing. But Gran Jimboy read my hand this afternoon, and she prophesied¹⁷ that I should marry neither."
 
"What do you mean?" asked Iris sharply. "Have you a third admirer?"
 
"According to gran I have," said Milly with a shiver; "the third admirer is Death, my dear. I am to be--murdered!"
 
Iris rose so quickly that her work rolled on to the floor. She looked at Milly in a scared sort of way. "Are you out of your mind?" she said nervously¹⁸.
 
"No; I'm only telling you what Gran Jimboy read in my hand. But I don't believe in palmistry; do you, Iris?"
 
"No, I don't," said Miss Link contemptuously. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, letting Gran Jimboy play on your fears. Did she say you would die?"
 
"Yes; that I should be murdered. Ugh!" and Milly shivered again.
 
"You don't believe such rubbish?"
 
Miss Lester jumped up and threw the hat she had been trimming on the sofa. "I don't know," she said, pacing to and fro. "Sometimes I do; sometimes I don't. I wish you would not talk of death! I hate it!" Then, after a pause, "I'm going to bed," said she.
 
Iris arrested her at the door. "Milly, do be sensible, and give up these wild ideas."
 
"Mr. Lovel, I suppose?"
 
"Yes; don't flirt⁵ with him any more, and I'll not tell Dr. Lester."
 
"You can do as you please!" returned Milly loftily. "I'm doing no harm, and I'll talk to Lucas as much as I please!"
 
"Lucas! You call him by his first name?"
 
"When I wish to be nice, I do," replied the girl provokingly; "and he calls me by mine."
 
"Milly, you are ruining your life!" said Iris in despair.
 
"Ah, well; what of it? It's going to be a short one--according to Gran Jimboy," and before her sister could make a further remark Milly ran out of the room, with a nervous laugh. Iris resumed her seat, and again devoted¹⁹ herself to work, but her thoughts were busy with the ill-disciplined mind of her companion.
 
Whether it was Milly's attitude towards Herne, or her conduct with Lovel, or her revelation of the gipsy's prophecy, Iris did not know; but she felt a premonition of evil, and wondered what she could do to prevent the occurrence of ill. There was no thought of self in the desire, for she was genuinely sorry for the fool's paradise in which Lovel was living. Doubtless he thought that Milly would break with Herne to marry him; but Iris was assured that her sister was too fond of money and luxury to do so. Milly had no idea of morality, or right or wrong, and was quite content to flirt with one man and go to the altar with the other, without caring for the consequences. Yet in the complication she had made there lay the elements of tragedy; and Iris wondered if the gipsy had been clever enough to guess this, and had prophesied death and danger merely on the possibility of such result. She was beginning to feel alarmed at the entanglement²⁰, and resolved to put matters straight if she could. Failing the authority of Lester over his reckless daughter, which was merely nominal²¹, it yet remained that an explanation and an appeal to Lovel might induce him to withdraw from the fascinations²² of Milly, and leave the village. Then the marriage with Herne might be pressed on, and under his good influence and care Milly might be sheltered from the dangers of life which were created by her love of admiration²³. This was the only course to pursue, and Iris decided to take it.
 
"I'll see Mr. Lovel to-morrow," she said when retiring to bed, "and appeal to his better nature to go away. Darcy is so much in love with her that it would break his heart to lose her. Milly must marry him, and do her best to make him happy. I can do nothing less to show my love for him. Ah! he does not guess how I worship him! If he did--alas²⁴! alas!" Here Iris broke off her meditations²⁵, and extinguished the light. Then, in the silence and darkness, she wept quietly over her unreturned love and aching heart. Truly, to a woman, the burden of unrequited affection is heavy to bear.
 
Early on Sunday morning Milly received a letter from Darcy, stating that he would return the next day, as he had concluded his business. The information gave her no pleasure, as it meant that she would have to submit to be bored in his company, and would not be able to see Lucas as often as heretofore. Yet the receipt of the letter gave her the assurance that she could safely keep her appointment with Lovel, without being found out; and her hitherto wavering decision was fixed²⁶ from that moment. This intention was unknown to Iris else she might have prevented the meeting.
 
Milly did not go to church in the morning, but Iris attended at St. Dunstan's, less for the service than because she desired to see Lovel. Dr. Lester had been as cross as a bear--the usual result of his weekly visit to Marborough--and Iris had not dared to complain about Milly, lest it should raise a domestic storm. The doctor kept to his own room, Milly amused herself with a novel, and Iris went to church to see Lovel. He was not present, however, and as she could not call on him at the Herne Arms, she was obliged to return home disappointed; and decided to delay her appeal till the next day. The delay was fatal.
 
As usual, Milly idled through the long summer hours in a discontented fashion, keeping out of her father's way as much as possible. She saw from his conduct that Iris had not fulfilled her threat of informing him of her vagaries²⁷, and said as much.
 
"No," replied Iris coldly; "I have not complained to your father, as he has no authority over you. It would be useless."
 
"I'm glad you see that, dear," rejoined Milly cordially. "I suppose you intend to speak to Darcy and get me a lecture?"
 
"I have told you twice that I do not intend to speak to Mr. Herne. No; it is my intention to ask Mr. Lovel to leave the village."
 
"Pooh! He won't do that while I'm here.
 
"If he is an honorable man he will."
 
Milly shrugged²⁸ her shoulders. "All I know is that he is a very nice fellow," she said; "if you want honor and priggishness, go to Darcy."
 
Iris was too disgusted to reply to this remark, and went to her room in silence to prepare for evening service. Fearing lest Lovel should speak with Milly on the way to church, she insisted that the girl should come with her. Assured that the appointment would be kept in the Winding²⁹ Lane, Milly agreed to this readily enough, as she did not wish to rouse the suspicion of Iris, whom she regarded in the light of a marplot. So, to church the sisters--as they may be called--went in the most amiable³⁰ fashion, and presented an affectionate exterior³¹ for the benefit of the Barnstead gossips.
 
St. Dunstan's was quite full, for Mr. Chaskin was the preacher, and his sermons were always worth hearing. He was a tall, well-built man, with an earnest, clean-shaven face; and as he walked in at the tail of the choir-boys a suspicion of his former military vocation³² could be seen in the swing of his stride. With certain alterations³³ consequent on the Reformation, he had exchanged the sword for the cowl, like some warrior³⁴ of mediaeval times. He was as earnest a clergyman as he had been a soldier; and had won golden opinions from one and all since his arrival at Barnstead.
 
During the earlier part of the service Milly, according to custom, looked round the church, and prayed with the lips rather than the heart. In the almost conventual gloom--for the summer twilight³⁵ filtered but dimly through the stained-glass of the windows--she noted³⁶ her friends and acquaintances, and particularly her lover. He was seated in a distant aisle³⁷ near a pillar, but could see her plainly enough, and several times during the service they exchanged glances. Miss Clyde was there, in the company of Mrs. Drass, but being near the front of the building, they could not see Lucas. Had they been placed so as to observe him, Milly would have been more discreet³⁸ in her glances; but, feeling safe from observation, she indulged in as many as she pleased. If Iris noted her looks, she made no sign; for she looked at her prayer-book constantly.
 
Shortly Milly's glances alighted on a strange lady, who was staring at her steadily³⁹. She was a brilliant-looking brunette, not very tall (as Milly could see when she stood up), and dressed in the height of fashion. Miss Lester wondered who she could be, and why she stared at her so hard. After a time she returned the gaze, and the eyes of the two met. At once the strange lady removed her eyes, and glanced at Lucas; then looked back to Milly in the most meaning manner. Indignant and bewildered by this pantomime, Milly grew crimson⁴⁰, and tried to keep her attention on the music; but whenever she looked up the lady was glancing in the same way from her to Lucas and back again. Lovel himself did not see the stranger--at all events, Milly did not think so; but Mrs. Drass had her eyes on the brunette, and was doubtless alive with curiosity.
 
When Mr. Chaskin gave out the text, Milly forgot the strange lady; she forgot Lucas, and Darcy, and everyone else. The only person she remembered was Gran Jimboy, for the text was "One shall be taken, the other left," which was the exact expression used by the gipsy at the time of the hand-reading on the previous day. Milly face grew pallid⁴¹ with nervous fear, her heart beat rapidly, and she felt that the atmosphere was too close to breathe. There seemed to be something ominous⁴² in the coincidence of the gipsy's speech and the text; and she felt that something was wrong; also, the looks of the strange lady embarrassed her. So, on the impulse of the moment, she rose from her seat and left the church with all speed.