The baronet leaped off his horse, his eyes lighting, and shook hands with the artist, in a burst of heartiness very rare with him.
"Where in the world did you drop from, and how under the sun did you come to be like this with May?"
"I leave the explanation to Mr. Legard," said May, blushing a little under Sir Rupert's glance, "whilst I go and see mamma, only premising that luncheon hour is past, and you had better not linger."
She tripped away, and the two young men followed more slowly into the house. Sir Rupert led his friend to his studio, and left him to inspect the pictures.
"Whilst I speak a word to my mother," he said; "it will detain me hardly an instant."
"All right!" said Mr. Legard, boyishly. "Don't hurry yourself on my account, you know."
Lady Thetford lay where her son had left her—lay as if she had hardly stirred since. She looked up and half rose as he came in, her eyes painfully, intensely anxious. But his face, grave and quiet, told nothing.
"Well," she panted, her eyes glittering.
"It is well, mother. Aileen Jocyln has promised to become my wife."
"Thank God!"