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"But suppose," suggested May, with some uneasiness, "that he knew about that French book?" "Oh, my dear, we can't suppose that! Besides, we haven't read the book. It may really be quite different in its tendency from Mr. Lashmar's view." "I don't see how it can be, Mrs. Toplady. Judging from those quotations, and the article, it's Mr. Lashmar from beginning to end."
As he waited for his breakfast, never served to time, Mr. Lashmar drummed upon the window-pane, and seemed to watch a blackbird lunching with much gusto about the moist lawn of Alverholme Vicarage. But his gaze was absent and worried.
Really, it's a most unfortunate thing that Lady Ogram died so suddenly, most unfortunate. What a serious injustice is done to that poor girl!" "After all, Mr. Lashmar," fell sweetly from the other's lips, "her position might be worse." "How? Has she an income of her own?" "Oh, a trifling annuity, not worth mentioning. But I didn't speak of that.
As this was the most direct statement which the Scotchman had committed himself during their hour together, it correspondingly impressed Lashmar. He went away thinking of Constance, and wondering whether she was indeed such a notable woman. Must he really regard her as an equal, or something like it.
But his sensibility made him restless in the thought that she was accusing him of ingratitude perhaps of behaviour unworthy a gentleman. Yes, there was the true sting. Dyce Lashmar prided himself on his intellectual lucidity, but still more on his possession of the instincts, of the mental and moral tone, which are called gentlemanly.
She spoke without looking at him, and so was spared the interpretation of muscular twitches. "Certainly. Do you know whether she is still in London?" "I don't know, but probably not. Don't you think she may be very useful to us? I have always found her very nice and kind, and she knows such hosts of people." Lashmar had his own thoughts about Mrs.
The old, old scandal occupied tongues malicious or charitable. Rivenoak domestics had spread the news of the marble bust, to which some of them attached a superstitious significance; Breakspeare heard, and credited, a rumour that the bust dated from the time when its original led a brilliant, abandoned life in the artist world of London; but naturally he could not speak of this with Lashmar.
Highly imaginative stories, too, went about concerning Miss Tomalin, whom everyone assumed to be the heiress of Lady Ogram's wealth. By some undercurrent, no doubt of servant's-hall origin, the name of Lord Dymchurch had come into circulation, and the editor of the Express ventured to inquire of Lashmar whether it was true that Miss Tomalin had rejected an offer of marriage from this peer.
Her eye on the clock for Leonard was sure to enter very soon Mrs. Woolstan gave a full account of her income, enumerating the securities which were in the hands of her trustee, Mr. Wrybolt, and those which she had under her own control. In the event of her re-marriage, Mr. Wrybolt's responsibility came to an end, a circumstance very pleasing to Lashmar.
"And it has just come into your possession?" asked May. "No, my dear. But I thought you would like to see it." An hour later, Dyce Lashmar arrived. He was conducted at once to the drawing-room, where Lady Ogram still sat with May and Constance. "I expected you," cried the senile voice, on a high note. "I heard the news at dinner-time yesterday;" said Lashmar.
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