Third Period Chapter 24 Lord Harry's Honeymoon

A faint reflection of the old stage-smile trembled on Mrs. Vimpany's
worn and weary face.

"Ah, Mr. Mountjoy, I know whom she ought to have married! The worst
enemy of women is their ignorance of men--and they only learn to know
better, when it is too late. I try to be hopeful for Iris, in the time
to come, but my fears conquer me."

She paused, sighed, and pressed her open hand on her bosom;
unconsciously betraying in that action some of the ineradicable
training of the theatre.

"I am almost afraid to say that I love Iris," she resumed; "but this I
know; if I am not so bad as I once was, I owe it to that dearest and
sweetest of women! But for the days that I passed in her company, I
might never have tried to atone for my past life by works of mercy.
When other people take the way of amendment, I wonder whether they find
it as hard to follow, at first, as I did?"

"There is no doubt of it, Mrs. Vimpany--if people are sincere. Beware
of the sinners who talk of sudden conversion and perfect happiness. May
I ask how you began your new life?"

"I began unhappily, Mr. Mountjoy--I joined a nursing Sisterhood. Before
long, a dispute broke out among them. Think of women who call
themselves Christians, quarrelling about churches and church
services--priest's vestments and attitudes, and candles and incense! I
left them, and went to a hospital, and found the doctors better
Christians than the Sisters. I am not talking about my own poor self
(as you will soon see) without a reason. My experience in the hospital
led to other things. I nursed a lady through a tedious illness, and was
trusted to take her to some friends in the south of France. On my
return, I thought of staying for a few days in Paris--it was an
opportunity of seeing how the nurses did their work in the French
hospitals. And, oh, it was far more than that! In Paris, I found Iris
again."