“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 narrow aims.  It’s all very well when one is very young.  I shouldn’t like to restrict my study in that way now.  The problems of modern life are so full of interest.  There are so many books that it is a duty to read, a positive duty.  And one finds so much practical work.”

“What sort of work?”

“In the social direction.  I take a great interest in the condition of the poor.”

“Really?” exclaimed Lady Ogram.  “What do you do?”

“We have a little society for extending civilisation among the ignorant and the neglected.  Just now we are trying to teach them how to make use of the free library, to direct their choice of books.  I must tell you that a favourite study of mine is Old English, and I’m sure it would be so good if our working classes could be brought to read Chaucer and Langland and Wycliffe and so on.  One can’t expect them to study foreign languages, but these old writers would serve them for a philological training, which has such an excellent effect on the mind.  I know a family—­shockingly poor living, four of them, in two rooms—­who have promised me to give an hour every Sunday to ’Piers the Plowman’—­I have made them a present of the little Clarendon Press edition, which has excellent notes Presently, I shall set them a little examination paper—­very simple, of course.”

Miss Bride’s countenance was a study of subdued expression.  Lady Ogram—­who probably had never heard of ’Piers the Plowman’—­ glanced inquiringly at her secretary, and seemed to suspend judgment.

“We, too, take a good deal of interest in that kind of thing,” she remarked.  “I see that we shall understand each other.  Do your relatives, Mr. and Mrs. Rooke, work with you?”

“They haven’t quite the same point of view,” said Miss Tomalin, smiling indulgently.  “I’m afraid they represent rather the old way of thinking about the poor—­the common-sense way, they call it; it means, as far as I can see, not thinking much about the poor at all.  Of course I try to make them understand that this is neglect of duty.  We have no right whatever to live in enjoyment of our privileges and pay no heed to those