May felt that a man in this position could not well have conducted himself more kindly and delicately.  No hint in look or voice that he thought her behaviour extraordinary; he had been defeated by a rival, that was all; his tone begged excuse for unwilling intrusion upon her privacy.  But for the hopelessly compromising moment at which he had arrived, probably he would have given her all benefit of the doubt, and in one way or another, would still have prosecuted his wooing.  Very nervous and confused, she made what seemed to her an appropriate answer.

“Thank you very much, Lord Dymchurch.  I had so hoped we could be friends—­simply friends.  Do let me think of you still in that way.”

“Will you give me a proof of friendship,” said the other, smiling kindly, “by permitting me to tell Lady Ogram, in a note I shall leave for her, that you have declined my offer of marriage?”

This, thought May, was indeed a smoothing of her difficulties.  She glanced at the speaker with gratitude.

“You will really do that?  How generous of you, Lord Dymchurch!”

“Allow me to leave you now, Miss Tomalin.  I must prepare for my journey.”

May offered her hand.  Dymchurch just perceptibly pressed it, saluted with the gravest politeness, and walked away.

On the terrace before the house, he encountered Lashmar, who came up to him with a glowing countenance.

“I hoped I should find you here.  Nothing could be better.  Just a moment’s talk.”

Dyce had thrust out a hand, but as the other appeared not to see it, he drew it hack again as naturally as he could.  Dymchurch stood waiting in an attitude of cold civility.

“It’s rather a delicate matter.  Accident has obliged me to speak; otherwise, I shouldn’t, of course, have troubled you with my private affairs.  I wish to tell you that the engagement which once existed between Miss Bride and myself is at an end.”

“I presumed so,” was the reply, spoken with unmoved features.

“Also, that Miss Tomalin has for some days been aware of this state of things.”

“I took it for granted.”

“So that,” Dyce continued, in a stumbling way, “you won’t retain any disagreeable impression from this morning’s incident?  I am very glad indeed to have been able to see you at once.  It puts an end to a natural uneasiness on both sides.”

“I am obliged to you,” said Dymchurch.

With a bow and a look past his interlocutor, he turned to enter the house.

As soon as he had disappeared, Lashmar followed, and rang the door bell.  Of the servant who came, he asked whether Miss Bride was down yet.  The domestic went to inquire.  Waiting in the hall, Dyce heard a footstep behind him; he turned and saw May, who, with features discomposed, just met his eyes and hurried away up the staircase.  When the servant returned, it was with a request that Mr. Lashmar would step into the library.  There, in a few minutes, Constance joined him.