"If he is a proud man, he will never forgive me.

Indeed, I am sure that he can never forgive me, whatever kind of man he is.

But I can do no more than tell him I am sorry.

If he will not forgive me then, what more can I say?
Oh, if he should be vindictive!" When the clock began to strike the hour of eight, Iris lighted her candles, and before the pulsation of the last stroke had died away, she heard the ringing of the house-bell.
The door was opened by her grandfather himself, and she heard his voice.
"Yes," he said, "you will find your tutor, in the first floor front, alone.

If you are inclined to be vindictive, when you hear all, please ring the bell for me." The visitor mounted the stairs, and Iris, hearing his step, began to tremble and to shake for fear.
When the door opened she did not at first look up.