don?"

"Oh, it isn't at all necessary," answered May, with sprightliest
readiness. "I haven't brought many things with me, but I could send--"

"As for clothing, don't trouble; that's my affair. Then we'll settle
that you stay on with me for the present. And now tell me, how do you
like Miss Bride?"

"Oh, very much indeed! I'm sure we shall soon quite understand each
other."

"I'm glad to hear that. I hope you will. I may say that I have a very
high opinion indeed of Miss Bride, and that there's no one in whom I
put more confidence."

"Will she go to London with us?"

"Certainly, I couldn't get on without her help."

May was relieved. The prospect of living alone with her great-aunt,
even in London, had mingled a little uneasiness with her joyful
anticipation. Now she abandoned herself to high spirits, and talked
until Lady Ogram began to have a headache. For an hour before luncheon
they drove out together, May still gossiping, her aged relative now and
then attentive, but for the most part drowsily musing.

That afternoon, when an hour or two of sleep had somewhat restored her,
Lady Ogram sketched several letters for her secretary to write. Pausing
at length, she looked at Miss Bride, and, for the first time, addressed
her by her personal name.

"Constance--"

The other responded with a pleased and gratified smile.

"From Mr. Lashmar's talk of him, what sort of idea have you formed of
Lord Dymchurch?"

"Rather a vague one, I'm afraid. I have heard him only casually
mentioned."

"But Mr. Lashmar has a high opinion of him? He thinks him a man of good
principles?"

"Undoubtedly. A very honourable man."

"So I hear from other sources," said Lady Ogram. "It's probably true. I
should rather like to know Lord Dymchurch. He would be an interesting
man to know, don't you think?"

As not infrequently happened, their eyes met in a mute interchange of
thought.

"Interesting--yes," replied Constance, slowly. And she added, pressing
the nib of her pen on her finger-nail, "They say he doesn't marry just
because he is poor and honourable."

"It's possible," Lady Ogram rejoined, and, after a moment's reflection,
said in an absent voice that the day's correspondence was finished.

CHAPTER XII

Though Mrs. Toplady seldom rose much before midday, it was not the mere
luxury of repose that kept her in her chamber. As a rule, she awoke
from refreshing sleep at eight o'clock. A touch on the electric button