A faint spot of colour appeared on Louise’s pale cheeks and though she smiled still her eyes were hard and angry.
Iris shall marry in a month?s time, she said, and if anything happens to me I hope you and she will be able to forgive yourselves.?
Louise was as good as her word. A date was fixed, a trousseau of great magnificence was ordered, and invitations were issued. Iris and the very good lad were radiant. On the wedding-day, at ten o’clock in the morning, Louise, that devilish woman, had one of her heart attacks-and died. She died gently forgiving Iris for having killed her.