Lady Ogram had risen; she took a tremulous step or two from the throne, and spoke in a voice much more senile than its wont.
"I am glad to see you, May—glad to see you! This is my friend and secretary, Miss Bride, whom I mentioned to you."
Constance and the new-comer bowed, hesitated, shook hands. Miss Tomalin had not yet spoken; she was smiling timidly, and casting quick glances about the room.
"You had an easy journey, I hope," said Miss Bride, aware that the old lady was sinking breathless and feeble into her chair.
"Oh, it was nothing at all."
Miss Tomalin's utterance was not markedly provincial, but distinct from that of the London drawing-room; the educated speech of the ubiquitous middle-class, with a note of individuality which promised to command itself better in a few minutes. The voice was pleasantly clear.
"You had no difficulty in finding the carriage?" said Lady Ogram, speaking with obvious effort.
"Oh, none whatever, thank you! So kind of you to send it for me."
"I wanted to see you for a moment, as soon as you arrived. Now they shall take you to your room. Come down again as soon as you like; we will have tea."
"Thank you; that will be very nice."