"You can do that," said May; "I shall wait till the doctor comes—anyhow. Ask Robinson to telephone at once."
May went down to the breakfast-room, and found Mrs. Robinson's stout form coming out of the door. Within Lady Dashwood was seated in a chair by the fire.
"I am perfectly well, May," said Lady Dashwood, lifting up a white face to her niece as she came up to her. "I have sent Mrs. Robinson away. That silly old fool, Louise, has made Robinson telephone for a doctor."
"Quite right of her," said May, quietly, "and I shall stop till he has come and gone."
"You didn't mean to go before lunch?" murmured Lady Dashwood.
"I can go after lunch," said May.
Lady Dashwood leaned her head back in a weak manner.
"Not so convenient to you perhaps, dear," she murmured, but in a voice that accepted the delay to May's departure. She accepted it and sighed and stared into the fire, and said not one word about the Warden, but she said: "I'm not going to bed. The house will be empty enough as it is;" and May knew she was thinking of the Warden's return.
"You must go to bed," May replied.
"I can't go to bed, child. I shall stay up and look after things," said Lady Dashwood, and she knew she was speaking with guile. "You forget, dear, that—the house will be so empty!"