he has proposed to you, and
that you have refused him, and then he goes off without a word to
anyone. Did you know he was leaving this morning?"

"Certainly not," answered the girl, with a bold plunge into mendacity.
"I expected to see him at breakfast. Then I was told he was gone. I
don't understand it at all."

From the moment of entering the room, she had put away all thought of
truthfulness. This, plainly, was no time for it. As soon as possible,
she would let Dyce Lashmar know that they must feign and temporise: the
policy of courage looked all very well from a distance, but was quite
another thing in the presence of the mistress of Rivenoak enraged.
Lashmar must caution Constance, who seemingly (much to May's surprise)
had submitted to his dictation at this juncture. For a time, nothing
could be done beyond cloaking what had really happened, and soothing
Lady Ogram's wrath with apparent submission.

"When did you see him last?" pursued the questioner.

"This morning, before breakfast, for a few minutes in the garden."

Better to be veracious so far, thought May. She might otherwise fall
into self-contradiction.

"Was it an appointment?"

"No. By chance. I never thought of meeting him."

"And what did he say to you? Tell me his words."

"I couldn't possibly recall them," said May, who had seated herself,
and was becoming all but calm. "Lord Dymchurch has a very vague way of
talking. He rambles from one subject to another."

"But didn't he say anything at all about marriage?" cried Lady Ogram,
in exasperation.

"He spoke of his position and his prospects. Perhaps he hoped I should
understand--but it was all so vague."

"Why, then, the man is a scoundrel! He never proposed to you at all,
and he runs away leaving a lying letter behind him. Yet I should never
have thought that of Lord Dymchurch."

She fixed her eyes on May, and added fiercely:

"Are you telling me the truth?"

The girl bridled, staring straight before her with indignant
evasiveness of look.

"My dear aunt! How can you ask me such a question? Of course I may have
misunderstood Lord Dymchurch, but, if it hadn't been for what you have
once or twice said to me, I really shouldn't ever have supposed that he
meant anything. He talks in such a rambling way--"

She grew voluble. Lady Ogram listened awhile, then cut her short.

"Very well. There has been some queer sort of mistake, that's plain. I
should like to know what Lord Dymchurch