Dyce allowed his companion to open a carriage-door for herself.

That was quite in accord with his principles, but perhaps he would for once have neglected them had he been sure by which class Miss Bride would travel.
She entered the third.
"You wouldn't care to introduce me to Lady Ogram ?" he said, standing by the window, and looking straight into the girl's eyes.
"I will if you wish," she answered, meeting his look with hard steadiness and a frown as of pain.
"Many thanks! Rivenoak, Hollingford, the address?
Suppose I call in a few days ?" "If you like." The train moved.

Dyce bared his head, and, as he turned away, thought how contemptible was the practice.
Walking briskly against a cold wind, he busied his imagination about Lady Ogram.

The picture he made to himself of this wealthy and original old lady was very fertile of suggestion; his sanguine temper bore him to heights of brilliant possibility.

Dyce Lashmar had a genius for airy construction; much of his time was spent in deducing imaginary results from some half presented opportunity.