But she knew that her pupil was there, and that he was looking for his tutor.
"Pardon me"-- the voice was not unpleasant--"pardon me.

I was directed to this room.

I have an appointment with my tutor." "If," said Iris, rising, for the time for confession had at length arrived, "if you are Mr.Arnold Arbuthnot, your appointment is, I believe, with me." "It is with my tutor," he said.
"I am your tutor.

My initials are I.A." The room was only lighted by two candles, but they showed him the hanging head and the form of a woman, and he thought she looked young, judging by the outline.

Her voice was sweet and clear.
"My tutor?
You ?" "If you really are Mr.Arnold Arbuthnot, the gentleman who has corresponded with I.A.for the last two years on heraldry, and--and other things, I am your tutor." She had made the dreaded confession.