"Good-night," sighed Gwen; "I'll try and go to sleep. But could you--could you put that umbrella into the wardrobe and poke up the fire again to make a little light?" And May put the umbrella away in the wardrobe and poked up the fire. CHAPTER XXVI THE ANXIETIES OF LOUISE The one definite thought in May's mind now was that she must leave Oxford before the Warden's return. A blind instinct compelled her to take this course. It was not easy for her to say to Lady Dashwood quite unconcernedly: "You won't mind my running away to-morrow, will you? You won't mind if I run off, will you? All your troubles are over, and I do want to get back to-morrow. I have lots of things to do--to get ready before Monday." It was not easy to say all this, but May did say it. She said it in the corridor as they were bidding each other good night. Lady Dashwood's surprise was painful. "I do mind your running off," she said, and she looked a little bewildered. "Must you go to-morrow? Must you? To-morrow!" Lady Dashwood had talked a great deal, both before May went into Gwendolen's room and afterwards, when May came back again to the drawing-room. May had told the reason for her long absence from the drawing-room, but in an abstracted manner; and Lady Dashwood, observing this, looked long and wistfully at her, but had asked no questions. All she had said was, "I'm glad you've been with the child," and she spoke in a low voice. Then she had begun talking again of things relevant and irrelevant, and in doing so had betrayed her excitement. It was indeed May now who was calm and self-contained, all trace of her "chill" gone, whereas Lady Dashwood was obviously over-excited. It was only when May said good night, and made this announcement about going away on the following day, that Lady Dashwood's spirits showed signs of flagging. That moment all her vivacity suddenly died down and she looked no longer brisk and brilliant, but limp and tired, a hollow-eyed woman. "I do mind," she repeated. But she gave no reason for minding, she merely added: "Don't go!" and stared at her niece pathetically. But May was firm. She kissed her aunt very affectionately, and was very tender in her manner and voice, but she was immovable. "I must go, dear," she said; and then she repeated again: "Your troubles are over! Seriously, Aunt Lena, I want to go!" Lady Dashwood sighed. "You have done a great deal for me, May," she said, and this gratitude from her Aunt Lena shook May's courage more than any protest. "I don't want to go," she said, "but I must go." That was her last word.