Robinson was now going towards the door with his soft, light, though rather shambling movements.
The Warden moved towards the door too, and then stopped and said—
"There isn't anything I can do for you, any book I can lend you for this evening?"
"No, thanks very much," said May. "I have all I want," and she took up the book she had dropped with an air of wanting it very much, and went towards the chair she had been sitting in before Robinson disturbed her.
The Warden swung himself round. She could hear the sound of his robe against the lintel of the door as he went out and left her alone. He might have stayed a few minutes if he had wished! He didn't wish!
When she went to her Aunt Lena's bedroom, half an hour later, she found that he had been there, sitting with her and talking, and had gone five minutes ago. The Warden seemed to move like some one in a dream. He came and went and never stayed.
During dinner Lady Dashwood said, not à propos of anything—
"Your poor Uncle John is beginning to get restive, and I suppose I shall have to go back to him in a few days. Having done all the mischief that I could, I suppose it is time I should leave Oxford. Louise will be glad and Jim will be sorry, I am afraid. I haven't broken to him yet that my time is coming to an end. I really dread telling him. It was different when he was a college tutor—he had only rooms then. Now he has a house. It's very dismal for him to be alone."
Here Lady Dashwood stopped abruptly and went on eating. About nine o'clock she professed to be ready "to be put to bed," and May, who had been knitting by her side, got up and prepared to leave her for the night.
As she kissed her she wondered why her Aunt Lena had never asked her how long she was going to stay. Why hadn't she told her after seeing the doctor, and got it over? The Warden knew and yet did not say a word, but that was different!