friends or
not. You can answer as my secretary, I suppose?"

And Lady Ogram, with her uncertain, yet not undignified, footfall, went
straightway from the room. There was a suspicion of needless sound as
the door closed behind her.

Constance sat for a minute or two in a very rigid attitude, displeasure
manifest on her lips. She did not find it easy to get to work again,
and when the time came for her bicycle ride, she was in no mind for it,
but preferred to sit over a book. At luncheon Lady Ogram inclined to
silence. Later in the day, however, they met on the ordinary terms of
mutual understanding, and Constance, after speaking of other things,
asked whether she should write Lady Ogram's reply to Mr. Lashmar.

"Mr. Lashmar? Oh, I have written to him myself," said the old lady, as
if speaking of a matter without importance.

Three days went by, and it was Saturday. Lady Ogram came down earlier
than usual this morning, but did not know how to occupy herself; she
fretted at the rainy sky which kept her within doors; she tried to talk
with her secretary of an important correspondence they had in hand (it
related to a projected society for the invigoration of village life),
but her thoughts were too obviously wandering. Since that dialogue in
the library, not a word regarding Miss Tomalin had escaped her; all at
once she said:

"My niece is due here at four this afternoon. I want you to be with me
when she comes into the room. You won't forget that?"

Never before had Constance seen the old autocrat suffering from
nervousness; it was doubtful whether anyone at any time had enjoyed the
privilege. Strange to say, this abnormal state of things did not
irritate Lady Ogram's temper; she was remarkably mild, and for once in
her life seemed to feel it no indignity to stand in need of moral
support. Long before the time for Miss Tomalin's arrival, she
established herself on her throne amid the drawing-room verdure.
Constance tried to calm her by reading aloud, but this the old lady
soon found unendurable.

"I wonder whether the train will be late?" she said. "No doubt it will;
did you ever know a train punctual? It may be half an hour late. The
railways are scandalously managed. They ought to be taken over by the
government."

"I don't think that would improve matters," said the secretary, glad of
a discussion to relieve the tedium. She too was growing nervous.

"Nonsense! Of course it would."

Constance launched into