ut it is difficult to part
with Oxford."

"Is it so difficult?" asked Lady Dashwood, then she suddenly pulled
herself up and said: "Oh, May, a note was left just after you went out
by Mrs. Potten. She wouldn't come in. Mark that, May! She had been
seeing Gwendolen off. The girl has gone to her mother. Marian wants me
to lunch with her to-morrow. I telephoned her a few moments ago that I
would go and see her later in the week. I wonder if she wants to speak
to me about Gwen? I can't help wondering. Oh dear, the whole thing seems
like a dream now! Don't you think so?"

May was drinking a hurried cup of tea. "No, it seems very real to me,"
she said.

Lady Dashwood looked at her silently. The Warden had not returned. At
least there was no sign of his being in the house.

Robinson came in to announce the taxi.

"Is the Warden in?" asked Lady Dashwood, half raising herself.

No, the Warden was not in.

"He will meet you at the station," said Lady Dashwood, nodding her head
slowly at her niece.

"He may not be able to," said May, going up to the sofa. She spoke as if
it were a matter of unconcern. She must keep this up. She had counselled
Gwendolen to be brave! This thought brought with it a little sob of
laughter that nearly choked her. "Good-bye, Aunt Lena," she said,
throwing her arms round Lady Dashwood, and the two rested their heads
together for a moment in a silent embrace. Then they parted.

"Good-bye," said Lady Dashwood. "Look out for poor Jim on the platform.
Look out for him!"

They kissed once or twice in formal fashion, and then May walked away to
the door and went out without looking back.

The door closed behind her and Lady Dashwood was left alone.

She lay back on the cushions. The sun was coming in through the windows
much as it had done that afternoon when she was reading the telegram
from May.

"I can't do any more," she murmured half aloud; "I can't."

Her eyes wandered to the fire and up to the portrait over the fireplace.
The light falling on the painted face obliterated the shadows at the
corners of the mouth, so that he seemed to be smiling.

CHAPTER XXXII

THE WARDEN HURRIES

The Warden was on his way to the station. For three days he had done
what he could to keep out of May Dashwood's presence. He had invented no
excuses for seeing her, he had invented reasons for not seeing her.
These three days of self-restraint were almost over.

He could have returned home in tim