The Rocketts had put aside all thoughts of what they esteemed May’s duty towards the Hall; they earnestly hoped that her stay with them might pass unobserved by Lady and Miss Shale, whom, they felt sure, it would be positively dangerous for the girl to meet.  Mrs. Rockett had not slept for anxiety on this score.  The father was also a good deal troubled; but his wonder at May’s bearing and talk had, on the whole, an agreeable preponderance over the uneasy feeling.  He and Betsy shared a secret admiration for the brilliant qualities which were flashed before their eyes; they privately agreed that May was more of a real lady than either the baronet’s hard-tongued wife or the disdainful Hilda Shale.

So Miss Rockett took the early afternoon train, and found her way to Mrs. Lindley’s, where she sent in her card.  At once admitted to the drawing-room, she gave a rapid account of herself, naming persons whose acquaintance sufficiently recommended her.  Mrs. Lindley was a good-humoured, chatty woman, who had a lively interest in everything ‘progressive’; a new religion or a new cycling-costume stirred her to just the same kind of happy excitement; she had no prejudices, but a decided preference for the society of healthy, high-spirited, well-to-do people.  Miss Rockett’s talk was exactly what she liked, for it glanced at innumerable topics of the ‘advanced’ sort, was much concerned with personalities, and avoided all tiresome precision of argument.

‘Are you making a stay here?’ asked the hostess.

‘Oh!  I am with my people in the country—­not far off,’ May answered in an offhand way.  ‘Only for a day or two.’

Other callers were admitted, but Miss Rockett kept the lead in talk; she glowed with self-satisfaction, feeling that she was really showing to great advantage, and that everybody admired her.  When the door again opened the name announced was ‘Miss Shale.’  Stopping in the middle of a swift sentence, May looked at the newcomer, and saw that it was indeed Hilda Shale, of Brent Hall; but this did not disconcert her.  Without lowering her voice she finished what she was saying, and ended in a mirthful key.  The baronet’s daughter had come into town on her bicycle, as was declared by the short skirt, easy jacket, and brown shoes, which well displayed her athletic person.  She was a tall, strongly built girl of six-and-twenty, with a face of hard comeliness and magnificent tawny hair.  All her movements suggested vigour; she shook hands with a downward jerk, moved about the room with something of a stride and, in sitting down, crossed her legs abruptly.

From the first her look had turned with surprise to Miss Rockett.  When, after a minute or two, the hostess presented that young lady to her, Miss Shale raised her eyebrows a little, smiled in another direction, and gave a just perceptible nod.  May’s behaviour was as nearly as possible the same.

‘Do you cycle, Miss Rockett?’ asked Mrs. Lindley.