“We really feared that, in Lady Ogram’s state of health—­”

He broke off significantly.  May dropped her eyes.  The train roared through a station.

“But,” said May at length, “I understand that you are to be married in October.”

“That is Lady Ogram’s wish.  Of course it’s horribly embarrassing.  I needn’t say that when our engagement is announced as broken off, I shall manage so that all the fault appears to be on my side.  But I am hoping—­that Lady Ogram may somehow be brought to change her mind.  And I even dare to hope that—­you will help us to that end.”

“I?  How could I, possibly?”

“Indeed, I hardly know.  But the situation is so awkward, and you are the only person who has really great influence with Lady Ogram—­”

There was silence amid the noise of the train.  May looked through one window, Dyce through the other.

“In any case,” exclaimed Lashmar, “I have discharged what I felt to be a duty.  I could not bear to think that you should be living with Miss Bride, and totally misunderstanding her.  I wanted you to do justice to her noble self-sacrifice.  Of course I have felt ashamed of myself ever since I allowed her to get into such a false position.  You, I fear, think worse of me than you did.”

He regarded her from under his eyelids, as if timidly.  May sat very upright.  She did not look displeased; a light in her eyes might have been understood as expressing satisfaction.

“Suppose,” she said, looking away, “that October comes, and you haven’t been able to—­to put an end to this situation?”

“I’m afraid—­very much afraid—­that we shall have to do so at any cost.”

“It’s very strange, altogether.  An extraordinary state of things.”

“You forgive me for talking to you about it?” asked Dyce, leaning respectfully forward.

“I understand why you did.  There was no harm in it.”

“Do you remember our talk in the supper-room at Mrs. Toplady’s?—­ when we agreed that nothing was more foolish than false modesty.  Shall I venture to tell you, now, that, if this marriage came about, it would be something like ruin to my career?  You won’t misunderstand.  I have a great respect, and a great liking, for Miss Bride; but think how all-important it is, this question of marriage for a public man.”

“Of course I understand that,” May replied.

He enlarged upon the topic, revealing his hopes.

“But I rather thought,” said May, “that Miss Bride was just the sort of companion you needed.  She is so intelligent and—­”

“Very!  But do you think she has the qualities which would enable her to take a high position in society?  There’s no unkindness in touching upon that.  Admirable women may fall short of these particular excellencies.  A man chooses his wife according to the faith he has in his future?”

“I understand; I quite understand,” said May, with a large air.  “No; it has to be confessed that Miss Bride—­I wonder my aunt didn’t think of that.”