‘With your mother is not the question. Your mother, I fear, Leo, would rather I did not see her. She likes no one to meddle with those she cares for.’
‘Does she really care for this woman?’
‘Can you ask me? They are near relations, and dear friends, and love each other.’
‘Are you sure of all that?’ he said; ‘from my mother I have never heard——’
‘But it is true.’
‘The last I suppose is true,’ said Leo reluctantly. ‘My mother is fond of her—though why——’
Lady William gave him a look, as if there might be two sides to the question; then she said: ‘It is of the utmost importance to me to see her, Leo—and soon. Will you give me your attention, and remember it is no mere wish—for an old friend.’
‘An old friend! I cannot conceive that she should ever have been a friend of yours.’
‘Yet, more than that; I desire to see her more than the dearest friend I have in the world.’
‘Your bidding shall be done, dear lady: should I go myself and take the lanthorn—as you say. But that will not be necessary. I shall find her; I hope, more easily—or whatever else you are pleased to wish for,’ he added in a lower tone. ‘That is too easy. Set me some task that will prove what I can do.’