Lashmar's courage revived. He suspected that the old autocrat knew everything, that both girls had already gone through the ordeal of a private interview with her, and had yielded up their secrets. If so, plainly the worst was over, and nothing would now serve but sincerity.
"That is what I mean," he answered, quietly and respectfully, admiring his own dignity as he spoke.
"We are beginning to understand each other," said Lady Ogram, the grim smile still on her face. "I don't mind telling you, now, that I have spoken both with Constance and with May."
Lashmar manifested his relief. He moved into an easier posture; his countenance brightened; he said within himself that destiny was bearing him on to glorious things.
"I'm very glad indeed to hear that, Lady Ogram! It puts my mind at rest."
"I have talked with them both," continued the reassuring voice, which struggled with hoarseness. "That they told me the truth, I have no doubt; both of them know me too well to do anything else. Constance, I understand, had your authority for speaking to me, so her part was easy."
"She has a fine, generous spirit!" exclaimed Dyce, with the glow of genuine enthusiasm.
"Well for you that she has. As for May, you had put her into a more difficult position."
"I fear so. But I am sure, Lady Ogram, that you dealt with her very kindly."
"Exactly." The smile was very grim indeed, and the voice very hoarse. "But the things I couldn't ask May to tell me, I expect to hear from you. Begin with this morning. You met her, I understand, before you came to the house to see Constance."