“I’m thinking of going to London for a week or two—­” thus Lady Ogram approached the point—­“and I should rather like to take you with me.”

“It’s very kind of you,” said May, with joy in her eyes.

“But I want to know whether you are quite independent.  Is there anyone—­beside Mr. and Mrs. Rooke that you would have to consult about it?”

“No one whatever.  You know that I am long since of age, Lady Ogram.”

“If you like, call me your aunt.  It’s simpler, you know.”

“Certainly I will.  I am quite free, aunt.”

“Good.  I may take it for granted, then, that you have formed no ties of any kind?”

May shook her head, smiling as though at a thought which the words suggested, a thought not unpleasing, but not at all difficult to dismiss.  Thereupon Lady Ogram began to talk freely of her projects.

“I shall go up to town in a fortnight—­at the end of this month.  Of course you must have some things, dresses and so on.  I’ll see to that.  Before we leave Rivenoak, I should like you to meet a few people, my friends at Hollingford particularly, but in a very quiet way; I shall ask them to lunch with us, most likely.  Shall you want to go back to Hollingford before leaving for London?”

“Oh, it isn’t at all necessary,” answered May, with srightliest 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?”