Our Friend the Charlatan

"In outline," said Constance, smiling as one who condescends to a childish understanding.

"Oh no, in detail."

Miss Bride contented herself with a half-absent "Indeed?" and seemed to resume her meditations. Whereupon, May's eyes flashed, and her head assumed its most magnificent pose.

They exchanged not another word on the drive to Rivenoak.

CHAPTER XX

May awoke very early next morning. It was broad daylight, however, and she hastened to look at her watch. Reassured as to the time, her next thought regarded the weather; she stepped to the window, and saw with vexation a rainy sky. An hour later, she again lifted the blind to look forth. No sun was shining, but rain had ceased. She began to dress.

At a quarter to eight, equipped for walking, she quietly left her room and tripped down stairs. A housemaid met her in the hall; she asked whether the front door was unlocked, and the servant went before to open for her. Following a path which led to the rear of the house, she was soon out in the park; in some ten minutes she passed the old summer-house among the trees, and, with quickened pace, came to the door which led into the Wapham Road. Before using her key, she tapped lightly on the wood; from without there sounded immediately an answering knock. Then she opened.

"Do you know?" asked Lashmar, eagerly, as he gave his hand, forgetting the formal salute.

"Yes. We had the news after dinner. Mr. Breakspeare sent a message."

"He lived for about an hour. I came on to Hollingford late, and have passed the night at the Saracen's Head. It's to be understood, of course, that I got the news in town just in time for the last train."

Whilst exchanging rapid sentences, they stood, one within, one outside, the park wall. May held the door as if uncertain what to do next.

"You can spare me a few minutes?" said Dyce, glancing this way and that along the public way.

"Come in. I didn't bring my bicycle, as it's so wet."

"Of course not. You needn't be anxious. Nobody comes this way."

He closed the door. May was looking behind her into the frees and bushes, which hid them from the park The sky had begun to brighten; a breeze shook drops from the shining leafage.

"How does Lady Ogram take the news?" Lashmar inquired, trying to speak with his wonted calm, but betraying a good deal of nervousness.

"I haven't seen her. She was in her room when it came."

"I shouldn't wonder if she's sorry. She had set her mind on our beating Robb at the poll. No one seems to know who will stand for the Conservatives. I saw Breakspeare after midnight; he was in the wildest excitement. He thinks it's good for us."

"Of course you'll see Lady Ogram to-day?"

"I shall come at lunch-time. That'll be best, won't it?"

May nodded. Her eyes kept turning in the direction of the house.

"How very kind of you to have come out so early!" said Dyce. "All night I've been reproaching myself for giving you the trouble, and when I saw the rain I didn't think for a moment you would be here. I'm delighted to be able to talk to you before seeing anyone else. Don't you think this event has happened very luckily? Whether I am elected or not, it'll be easier for me to get out of my false position."

"Why? How?"

"In this way. During the excitement of the election, I shall find opportunities of speaking more freely with Lady Ogram, and who knows but I may bring her to see that the plan she made for me was not altogether to my advantage? Miss Bride, of course, will speak, whenever she has a chance, in the same sense—"

"Are you sure of that?" asked May, casting a furtive glance at him. She was boring the path with the point of her slim umbrella.

"Do you feel any doubt?" asked Dyce in turn.

"I really can't judge. It's such a very curious situation—and," she added, "Miss Bride is so peculiar."

"Peculiar?—I understand. You don't find her very communicative. But I'm sure you'll make allowance for the difficulty of—"

"Oh, I make all allowances," interrupted May, with her smile of superiority. "And of course Miss Bride's affairs don't in the least concern me."

"Except I hope in so far as they concern me."

Dyce spoke with insinuating humour. Both hands resting on his umbrella handle, he held himself very upright, and looked May steadily in the face. She, as though challenged, straightened herself and met his look.

"I should be sorry to see your career spoilt," she said, with rather excessive dignity. "But you will admit that you have acted, to say the least, imprudently."

"It looks so. You think I should have had more courage. But you will see that it's not too late."

Speaking, he watched her face. He saw her lips twitch, and her eyes stray.

"You know," he pursued, "that I aim high."

Her look fell.

"But no man can do without help. The strong man is he who knows how to choose his helper, and at the right moment. I am at a crisis of my life, and—it is to you that I turn."

"I of course feel that to be a great compliment, Mr. Lashmar," said May, recovering her grand air. "I promise you to do what I can. But you mustn't count on me for impossibilities."

"I count on nothing that isn't easy for you—with your character, your influence."

"Thank you, again. My first piece of advice to you is to win the election."

"I shall do my best. If I am beaten in this, I shall win another; you are aware of that. Are you easily discouraged? I think not."

He smiled at her with admiration. That it was genuine, May easily perceived; how much, or how little, it implied, she did not care to ask. These two, alike incapable of romantic passion, children of a time which subdues everything to interest, which fosters vanity and chills the heart, began to imagine that they were drawn to each other by all the ardours of youth. Their minds remarkably lucid, reviewing the situation with coolest perspicuity, calculating each on the other's recognised weaknesses, and holding themselves absolutely free if contingency demanded freedom, they indulged, up to a certain point, the primitive impulse, and would fain have discovered in it a motive of the soul. May, who had formed her opinion as to Miss Bride's real attitude regarding Lashmar, took a keen pleasure in the treacherous part she was playing; she remembered the conversation last evening in the carriage, and soothed her wounded self-esteem. Dyce, gratified by yet another proof of his power over womankind, felt that in this case he had something to be really proud of; Miss Tomalin's beauty and her prospects spoke to the world at large. She was in love with him, and he detected in himself a reciprocal emotion. Interesting and agreeable state of things!

May, instead of directly answering his last question, allowed her eyes to meet his for a second. Then she said:

"Some people are coming to us this afternoon."

"To stay? Who are they?"

"Sir William and Lady Amys—and Lord Dymchurch—"

"Dymchurch! Lady Ogram has invited him?"

"He would hardly come to stay without being invited," said May, archly. "But I thought you most likely knew. Didn't Lady Ogram mention it to you?"

"Not a word," answered Dyce. "No doubt she had a reason for saying nothing. You, possibly, could suggest it?"

His face had changed. There was cold annoyance in his look and in his voice.