"I have been tormenting myself. Of course I know why Dymchurch has come, and so do you. I can't go away in a horrible uncertainty. If I do, I shall betray myself when I come to luncheon, so I give you warning." "What do you mean!" exclaimed the girl, with an air of dignity surprised. "Tell me the truth. Has Dymchurch spoken?" "Many times," answered May; smiling with excessive ingenuousness. "He is not very talkative, but he doesn't keep absolute silence--I hear that you have been to see Mrs. Gallantry." "What do I care about Mrs. Gallantry! I've seen no end of people, but all the time I was thinking of you. Yesterday morning, I all but wrote to you." "What about?" "All sorts of things. Of course I should have disguised my handwriting in the address." May avoided his look, and shaped her lips to severity. "If you had done such a thing--I should have been greatly displeased. I'm very glad you didn't so far forget yourself." "So am I, now. Won't you tell me if anything has happened. Won't you put my mind at ease?" "I can stay only for a few minutes. There's really nothing to tell--nothing. But _you_ must have plenty of news. How are things going on?" Lashmar hurriedly told of two or three circumstances which seemed to favour him in the opening campaign. There was now no doubt that Butterworth would be the Conservative candidate, and, on the whole, his name appeared to excite but moderate enthusiasm. He broke off with an impatient gesture. "I can't talk about that stuff! It's waste of time, whilst I am with you." "But it interests me very much," said May, who seemed to grow calmer as Dyce yielded to agitation. "Lord Dymchurch says he would gladly help you, if it were in his power. Don't you think he _might_ be of some use?" "No, I don't. Dymchurch is a dreaming nobody." "What a strange way to speak of him!" said May, as if slightly offended. "You used to have quite a different opinion." "Perhaps so. I didn't know him so well. There's nothing whatever in the man, and he'll never do anything as long as he lives. You know that as well as I do." "I think you are mistaken," May answered, in an absent voice, her look betraying some travail of the mind, as if she were really debating with herself the question of Dymchurch's prospects. "Do you mean that?" cried Lashmar, with annoyance. "I certainly shouldn't call him a 'dreaming nobody,'" replied May, in the tone of dignified reproof. "Lord Dymchurch is very thoughtful, and very well-informed, and has very high principles." "One may admit all that. All I meant was that there is no career before him. Would anyone dream of comparing him, for instance, with me? You needn't smile. You remember the talk we had at Mrs. Toplady's, that evening. I know my own qualities, and see no use in pretending that I don't.--But what are we talking about! Of course you care nothing for Dymchurch. I know that very well. If you did, you wouldn't be here."