That decided Gwen. She would go to bed at ten, and that would give her time to write her little note and get it taken to the library before the Warden arrived home. He would find it there, awaiting him. Dinner passed swiftly, though the two ladies were rather dull and silent. Gwen had so much to think of that she ate almost without knowing that she was eating. When they went upstairs to the drawing-room, the time went much more slowly, for there was nothing to do. Lady Dashwood and Mrs. Dashwood both took up books, and seemed to sink back into the very depths of their chairs, and disappear. It was very dismal. Perhaps Lady Dashwood hadn't read _that_ letter all through. Anyhow she had not been able to interfere. That was clear! Gwen went and fetched the book on Oxford, and read half a page of it, and when she had mastered that, she discovered that she had read it before. So she was no farther on for all her industry. How slowly the hands of the clock on the mantelpiece moved; how interminable the time was! Everybody was so silent that the clock could be heard ticking. That Lady Dashwood hadn't been able to interfere and make mischief with the Warden, showed how little power she had after all. At last the clock struck ten, and Gwen got up from her chair. "Ten," said Mrs. Dashwood, and she raised her face from her book. "Ten," said Lady Dashwood. "Yes, ten," said Gwendolen. "I think I'll go to bed, Lady Dashwood, if you don't mind." "Do, my dear," said Lady Dashwood. The girl stood up before her, slim and straight as an arrow. Both women sat and looked at her, and she glanced at both of them in silence. Her very beauty stung Lady Dashwood and made her eyes harden as she looked at the girl. What were May Dashwood's thoughts as she, too, leaning back in her large chair, looked at the dark hair and the flushed cheeks, the white brow and neck, the radiant pearly prettiness of eighteen! Gwen was conscious that they were examining her; that they knew she was pretty--they could not deny her prettiness. She felt a glow of pride in her youth and in her power--her power over a man who commanded other men. And this drawing-room was hers. She glanced at the portrait over the fireplace. "Mr. Thing-um-bob," she said dimpling, "is looking very sly this evening." May Dashwood took up her book again and turned over a few pages, as if she had lost her place. Lady Dashwood did not smile or speak. Gwen made a movement nearer to Lady Dashwood. "Good night," she said. She seemed to have a sudden intention of bending down, perhaps to kiss Lady Dashwood. Vague thoughts possessed the girl that this rather incomprehensible and imposing elderly woman, who wore such nice rings, was going to be a relation of hers. Would she be her sister-in-law? How funny to have anybody so old for a sister-in-law! It was a good thing she had, after all, so little influence over Dr. Middleton.