So Lady Dashwood lay quietly looking at the narrow windows, from which
college roofs opposite could be seen in a grey Oxford daylight. She made
no reference to the Warden's return. She did not tell May when he was
expected home, whether he was coming back to lunch, or whether he was
coming by a late afternoon train. She did not even mention his name. And
May, too, kept up the appearance of not thinking about him. She merely
looked up with a rather strained attention if the door opened, or there
were sounds in the corridor.

The time came for her to go down to lunch, and Lady Dashwood did not
even say: "You will have to take lunch alone." But she said: "I wonder
what Marian Potten and Gwendolen are doing?"

So May went into the dining-room and glanced round her with
apprehension.

Two places were laid, one for the Warden at the head of the table and
one at his right hand.

"You expect the Warden?" she asked of Robinson, who was standing in the
room alone, and she came towards the table apprehensively.

He pulled out her chair and said: "No, m'm, I don't think 'e will be in
to lunch."

May sat down and breathed again. "You think he will be late?" she asked,
speaking as one who cares not, but who needs the information for
purposes of business.

"'E said to me, m'm," said Robinson, as he handed a dish to her with old
gnarled hands that were a little shaky but still full of service, "as I
was 'andin' 'im 'is 'at what 'e wears in London: 'If I'm not 'ome in
time for lunch, I shall be 'ome by 'alf-past five.'"

"Oh yes," said May. "Then you'll be putting tea for him in the library,
won't you, Robinson?"

Robinson assented. "Yes, m'm, if you 'as tea with 'er ladyship." Then he
added, "We're glad, m'm, that you're stayin' on,"--now he dropped his
voice to a confidential whisper, and wore the air of one who is
privileged to communicate private information to a member of the
family--"because that French Louise is so exactin' and that jealous of
Mrs. Robinson, and no one can't expect a learned gentleman, what 'as the
'ole college on 'is shoulders and ain't used to ladies, to know what to
do."

"No, of course not," said May.

"But we've all noticed," said Robinson, solemnly, as he poured out some
water into May's glass, "as 'ow 'er ladyship's indisposition 'as come on
gradual."

Here he ended his observations, and he went and stood by his carving
table with his accustomed bearing of humble importance.

But it w