"None whatever. The fact of the matter is that I am standing to please Lady Ogram, and of course—" He waved an explanatory hand. "Things are not finally arranged yet, but all will be smooth."
His smile made dignified deprecation of undue insistence on trivial detail.
"I'm delighted to hear it!" exclaimed his mother. "It's just what I had supposed. What could be more natural. Do you think, by the bye, that I ought to go and see Lady Ogram? It might seem to her a right and natural thing. And, from what you tell me of her, I feel sure we should have a good deal in common."
"I've thought of that too," Dyce answered, averting his look. "But wait a little. Just now Lady Ogram isn't at all well; she sees hardly anybody."
"Of course I shall be guided by your advice. A little later, then. And, Dyce, you haven't told me anything about Miss Bride. Is she still with Lady Ogram?"
"Oh yes. Still acting as secretary."
"Of course you don't see much of her?"
"Why, to tell you the truth, we have to see each other a good deal, owing to her duties."
"Ah, yes, I understand. She writes to dictation, and that kind of thing. Strange that Lady Ogram should have engaged such a very unpleasant young woman. I've seldom known anyone I disliked so much."
"Really? She's of the new school, you know; the result of the emancipation movement." Dyce smiled, as if indulgently. "Lady Ogram thinks a great deal of her, and, I fancy, means to leave her money."