objections to it, I ventured to ask Mr. Lashmar whether
there was any particular reason for his wish to be released. He paid me
the compliment of perfect frankness. His reason was, that he wished to
marry someone else."

"And who is that?" came hoarsely from Lady Ogram.

"Miss Tomalin."

May had lost her natural colour. She could not take her eyes from the
speaker; her lips were parted, her forehead was wrinkled into a strange
expression of frightened animosity. Until the utterance of her name,
she had hoped against hope that Constance did not intend the worst. For
the first time in her life, she felt herself struck without pity, and
the mere fact of such stern enmity affected her with no less surprise
than dread. She would have continued staring at Constance, had not an
alarming sound, a sort of moaning snarl, such as might proceed from
some suddenly wounded beast, caused her to turn towards her aunt. The
inarticulate sound was followed by words painfully forced out.

"Go on--what else?--go on, I tell you!"

The speaker's breath came with difficulty. She was bent forward, her
eyes starting, her scraggy throat working as if in anguish. Constance
had stepped nearer to her.

"Are you ill, Lady Ogram? Shall I call for help?"

"Go on! Go _on_, I tell you!" was the hoarse reply. "I hadn't thought
of that. I see, now. What next did he say?"

"Mr. Lashmar," pursued Constance, in a voice somewhat less under
control, "did me the honour to say that he felt sure I had only his
interests and his happiness at heart. He knew that there might be
considerable difficulties in his way, even after it had been made known
that he was free to turn his attention to Miss Tomalin, and he was so
good as to request my assistance. It had occurred to him that I might
be able to present his case in a favourable light to you, Lady Ogram.
Naturally, I was anxious to do my best. Perhaps this is hardly the
moment to pursue the subject. Enough for the present to have made known
Mr. Lashmar's state of mind."

Lady Ogram seemed to have overcome her physical anguish. She sat
upright once more, and, looking at May, asked in a voice only just
above a whisper:

"What have you to say to this?"

"What can I say," exclaimed the girl, with high-voiced vehemence. "I
know nothing about it. Of course it's easy enough to believe that Mr.
Lashmar wants to get out of his engagement to Miss Bride." She laughed
scornfully. "He--"

She stopped, checking in