"Mother is so plucky," said Gwen; "I'm sure you'd like her—you really would, and she would like you. She doesn't by any means like everybody. She's very particular, but I think she would like you."
May smiled again, and this gave Gwen complete confidence.
"Our relations, you know, have really been a bit stingy," she said. "Too bad, isn't it, and there's been a bother about my education. Of course, mother needn't have sent me to school at all, only she's so keen on doing all she can for me, much more keen than our relations have been. Why, would you believe it, Uncle Ted, my father's youngest brother, who is a parson in Essex, has been saving! What I mean is that the Scotts ain't a bit well off—isn't it hard lines? You see I tell you all this, I wouldn't to anybody else. Well, Uncle Ted had saved for years for his only son—for Eton and Oxford: I don't think he'd ever given mother a penny. Wasn't that rather hard luck on mother?"
May said "Oh!" in a tone that was neutral.
"Well, but I'll explain," said Gwen, eagerly, "and you'll see. When poor Ted was killed, almost at once in the war, there was all the Oxford money still there. Mother knew about it, and said it couldn't be less than five hundred pounds, and might be more. And mother just went to them and spoke ever so nicely about poor Ted being killed—it was such horrid luck on Uncle Ted—and then she just asked ever so quietly if she might borrow some of the Oxford money, as there would be no use for it now. She didn't even ask them to give it, she only asked to borrow, and she thought they would like it to be used for the last two years of my school, it would be such a nice thought for them. And would you believe it, they were quite angry and refused! So mother thought they ought to know how mean it was of them. She is so plucky! So she told them that they had no sympathy with anybody but themselves, and didn't care about any Scott except their own Ted, who was dead and couldn't come to life again, however much they hoarded. Mother does say things so straight. She is so sporting! But wasn't it horrid for her to have to do it?"
May had gradually moved to the door ready to go out. Now she opened it.
So this was the young woman to whom the Warden had bound himself, and this was his future mother-in-law!
May left the breakfast-room abruptly and without a word.
She mounted the stairs swiftly. She wanted to be alone. As the servants were still moving about upstairs, she went into the drawing-room.
There was no one there but that living portrait of Stephen Langley, and he was looking at her across the wide space between them with an almost imperceptible sneer—so she thought.