s reply, the word bearing a
sense to her own thought not quite identical with that which it
conveyed to the hearer.
"So do I. She's very young, but none the worse for that. You think her
interesting. So do I."
Constance noticed that Lady Ogram's talk to-day had more of the
characteristics of old age than ordinarily, as though, in her great
satisfaction, the mind relaxed and the tongue inclined to babble.
Though May was absent less than a quarter of an hour, the old lady
waxed impatient.
"I hope she isn't a looking-glass girl. But no, that doesn't seem
likely. Of course young people must think a little about dress--Oh,
here she comes at last."
Miss Tomalin had made no change of dress, beyond laying aside her hat
and jacket. One saw now that she had plenty of light brown hair,
naturally crisp and easily lending itself to effective arrangement; it
was coiled and plaited on the top of her head, and rippled airily above
her temples. The eyebrows were darker of hue, and accentuated the most
expressive part of her physiognomy, for when she smiled it was much
more the eyes than the lips which drew attention.
"Come and sit here, May," said Lady Ogram, indicating a chair near the
throne. "You're not tired? You don't easily get tired, I hope?"
"Oh, not very easily. Of course I make a point of physical exercise; it
is a part of rational education."
"Do you cycle?" asked Constance.
"Indeed I do! The day before yesterday I rode thirty miles. Not
scorching, you know; that's weak-minded."
Lady Ogram seemed to be reflecting as to whether she was glad or not
that her relative rode the bicycle. She asked whether May had brought
her machine.
"No," was the airy reply, "I'm not a slave to it."
The other nodded approval, and watched May as she manipulated a
tea-cup. Talk ran on trivialities for a while; the new-comer still cast
curious glances about the room, and at moments stole a quick
observation of her companions. She was not entirely at ease;
self-consciousness appeared in a furtive change of attitude from time
to time; it might have been remarked, too, that she kept a guard upon
her phrasing and even her pronunciation, emphasising certain words with
a sort of academic pedantry. Perhaps it was this which caused Lady
Ogram to ask at length whether she still worked for examinations.
"No, I have quite given that up," May replied, with an air of
well-weighed finality. "I found that it led to one-sidedness--to narr
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