"Horrible, isn't it. I've had enough; I must breathe the air."

"Oh, stay a few minutes. I know so few people. Are Lady Ogram and her niece here?"

"Lady Ogram, I think not. I caught a glimpse of Miss Tomalin somewhere or other, sternly chaperoned."

He lied gaily, for the talk with May had put him into a thoroughly blithe humour.

"I should so like to see her," said Iris. "Don't you think you could point her out, if we went about a little."

"Let us look for her by all means. Have you been to the supper-room?

She may be there."

They turned to move slowly towards the staircase. Before reaching the door, they were met by Mrs. Toplady, at her side the gentleman who had been Miss Bride's companion downstairs.

"How fortunate!" exclaimed the hostess to Mrs. Woolstan. "I so want you to know Miss Tomalin, and Mr. Rossendale can take us to her."

Iris voiced her delight, and looked at Lashmar, inviting him to come too. But Dyce stood rigid, an unnatural smile on his features; then he drew back, turned, and was lost to view.

Five minutes later, he quitted the house. It was raining lightly.

Whilst he looked upward to give the cabman his address, drops fell upon his face, and he found their coolness pleasant.

During the ride home, he indulged a limitless wrath against Iris Woolstan. That busybody had spoilt his evening, had thrown disturbance into his mind just when it was enjoying the cheeriest hopes. As likely as not she would learn that he had had a long talk with May Tomalin, and, seeing the girl, she would put her own interpretation on the fib he had told her. What a nuisance it was to have to do with these feminine creatures, all fuss and impulsiveness and sentimentality! It would not surprise him in the least if she made a scene about this evening. Already, the other day, her tone when she accused him of giving her a false idea of Lady Ogram's niece proved the possibility of nonsensical trouble. The thing was a gross absurdity. Had he not, from the very beginning of their friendship, been careful to adopt a tone as uncompromising as man could use? Had he not applied to her his "method"

in all its rigour? What right had she to worry him with idiotic jealousies? Could anyone have behaved more honourably than he throughout their intercourse? Why, the average man--

His debt? What had that to do with the matter? The very fact of his accepting a loan of money from her emphasised the dry nature of their relations. That money must quickly be repaid, or he would have no peace. The woman began to presume upon his indebtedness, he saw that clearly. Her tone had been different, ever since.

Deuce take the silly creature! She had made him thoroughly uncomfortable. What it was to have delicate sensibilities!

CHAPTER XIV

Having an imperious Will and an intelligence merely practical, it was natural for Lady Ogram to imagine that, even as she imposed her authority on others in outward things, so had she sway over their minds; what she willed that others should think, that, she took for granted, they thought. Seeing herself as an entirely beneficent potentate; unable to distinguish for a moment between her arbitrary impulses and the well-meaning motives which often directed her; she a.s.sumed as perfectly natural that all within her sphere of action must regard her with grateful submissiveness. So, for example, having decided that a marriage between Dyce Lashmar and Constance Bride would be a very good thing for both, and purposing large generosity towards them when it should have come about, she found it very difficult to conceive that either of her young friends could take any other view of the matter. When observation obliged her to doubt the correctness of her first impressions, she grew only the more determined that things should be as she wished. Since the coming of May Tomalin, a new reason--or rather, emotion--fortified her resolve; seeing a possibility, even a likelihood, that May and Lashmar might attract each other, and having very definite views with regard to her niece, she was impatient for a declared betrothal of Constance and the aspiring politician. Their mutual aloofness irritated her more than she allowed to be seen, and the moment approached when she could no longer endure such playing with her serious purposes.

She knew that she had committed an imprudence in coming to London and entering, however moderately, into the excitements of the season. A day or two sufficed to prove the danger she was incurring; but she refused to take count of symptoms. With a weakness which did not lack its pathos, she had, for the first time in her life, put what she called "a touch of colour" onto her cheeks, and the result so pleased her that she all but forgot the artificiality of this late bloom; each morning, when her maid had performed the office, she viewed herself with satisfaction, and was even heard to remark that London evidently did her good. Lady Ogram tried to believe that even age and disease were amenable to her control.

She consulted doctors--for the form; behaving with cold civility during their visit, and scornfully satirising them when they were gone. None the less did she entertain friends at luncheon or dinner, and often talked to them as if years of activity and enjoyment lay before her.

"Wonderful old lady!" was the remark of most who left her presence; but some exchanged glances and let fall ominous words.

On the evening when May and Constance were at the crush in Pont Street, she would not go to bed, but lay on a couch in her chamber, occasionally dozing, more often wide awake and quivering with the agitation of her mind. It was one o'clock when the girls returned, but she had given orders that Miss Tomalin should at once come to see her, and May, flushed, resplendent, entered the dimly-lighted room.

"Well, have you enjoyed yourself?"

The voice was a shock to May's ears. After those to which she had been listening, it sounded sepulchral.

"Very much indeed. A delightful time!"

No token of affection had a place in their greeting. The old autocrat could not bring herself to offer, or ask for, tenderness; but in her eyes, always expressive of admiration when she looked at May, might have been read something like hunger of the heart.

"Sit down, my dear." Even this form of address was exceptional. "Tell me all about it. Who was there?"

"Hundreds of people! I can't remember half of those I was introduced to. Lord Dymchurch--"

"Ha! Lord Dymchurch came? And you had a talk with him?"

"Oh, yes. I find he takes a great interest in Old English, and we talked about Chaucer and so on for a long time. He isn't quite so well up in it as I am; I put him right on one or two points, and he seemed quite grateful. He's very nice, isn't he? There's something so quiet and good-natured about him. I thought perhaps he would have offered to take me down to supper, but he didn't. Perhaps he didn't think of it; I fancy he's rather absentminded."

Lady Ogram knitted her brows.

"Who did go down with you?" she asked.

"Oh, Mr. Lashmar. He was very amusing. Then I talked with--"

"Wait a minute. Did you only have one talk with Lord Dymchurch?"

"Only one. He doesn't care for 'At Homes.' Mrs. Toplady says he hardly ever goes anywhere, and she fancies"--May laughed lightly--"that he came to-night only because _I_ was going to be there. Do you think it likely, aunt?"

"Why, I don't think it impossible," replied Lady Ogram, in a tone of relief. "I have known more unlikely things. And suppose it were true?"

"Oh, it's very complimentary, of course."

The old eyes dwelt upon the young face, and with a puzzled expression.

Notwithstanding her own character, it was difficult for Lady Ogram to imagine that the girl seriously regarded herself as superior to Lord Dymchurch.

"Perhaps it's more than a compliment," she said, in rather a mumbling voice; and she added, with an effort to speak distinctly, "I suppose you didn't tire him with that talk about Old English?"

"Tire him?" May exclaimed. "Way, he was delighted!"

"But he seems to have been satisfied with the one talk."

"Oh, he went away because Mr. Lashmar came up, that was all. He's very modest; perhaps he thought he oughtn't to prevent me from talking to other people."

Lady Ogram looked annoyed and worried.

"If I were you, May, I shouldn't talk about Old English next time you see Lord Dymchurch. Men don't care to find themselves at school in a drawing-room."

"I a.s.sure you, aunt, that is not my only subject of conversation,"

replied May, amused and dignified. "And I'm perfectly certain that it was just the thing for Lord Dymchurch. He has a serious mind, and I like him to know that mine is the same."

"That's all right, of course. I dare say you know best what pleases him. And I think it very probable indeed, May, that he went to Pont Street just in the hope of meeting you."

"Perhaps so."

May smiled, and seemed to take the thing as very natural; whereupon Lady Ogram again looked puzzled.

"Well, go to bed, May. I'm very glad Lord Dymchurch was there; very glad. Go to bed, and sleep as late as you like. I'm glad you've enjoyed yourself, and I'm very glad Lord Dymchurch was there--very."