May's smile was ineffable. The woman of the world, the humourist and cynic, saw it with admiration.
"Ah, that puts my mind at ease!" murmured Mrs. Toplady. "To tell the truth, I have been worrying a little. Sometimes elderly people are so very tenacious of their ideas. Of course Lady Ogram has nothing but your good at heart."
"Of course!" exclaimed the girl.
"Shall I confess to you that I almost fancied this might be the explanation of Miss Bride's engagement?"
"Miss Bride—? How?"
"I only tell you for your amusement. It occurred to me that, having set her heart on a scheme which had reference to Lord Dymchurch, your aunt was perhaps a little uneasy with respect to a much more brilliant and conspicuous man. Had that been so—it's all the merest supposition—she might have desired to see the brilliant and dangerous man made harmless—put out of the way."
A gleam of sudden perception illumined the girl's face. For a moment wonder seemed tending to mirth; but it took another turn, and became naive displeasure.
"You think so?" broke from her, impetuously. "You really think that's why she wanted them to be engaged?"
"It's only what I had fancied, my dear—"
"But I shouldn't wonder if you were right! Indeed, I shouldn't! Now that you put it in that way—. I remember that my aunt didn't care for me to see much of Mr. Lashmar. It amused me, because, to tell you the truth, Mrs. Toplady, I should never have thought of Mr. Lashmar as anything but a friend. I feel quite sure I shouldn't."