Lyre and Lancet Part 9

_Captain Thicknesse_ (_constrainedly to_ Lady MAISIE). How do you do?

Afraid you've forgotten me.

_Lady Maisie._ Oh no, indeed! (_Hurriedly._) You--you don't know Mr.

Spurrell, I think? (_Introducing them._) Captain Thicknesse.

_Captain Thicknesse._ How are you? Been hearin' a lot about you lately. _Andromeda_, don't you know; and that kind of thing.

_Spurrell._ It's wonderful what a hit she seems to have made--not that I'm _surprised_ at it, either; I always knew----

_Lady Maisie_ (_hastily_). Oh, Mr. Spurrell, you haven't had any tea!

_Do_ go and get some before it's taken away.

[SPURRELL _goes_.

_Captain Thicknesse._ Been tryin' to get you to notice me ever since you came; but you were so awfully absorbed, you know!

_Lady Maisie._ Was I? So absorbed as all that! What with?

_Captain Thicknesse._ Well, it looked like it--with talkin' to your poetical friend.

_Lady Maisie_ (_flushing_). He is not _my_ friend in particular; I--I admire his poetry, of course.

_Captain Thicknesse_ (_to himself_). Can't even speak of him without a change of colour. Bad sign that! (_Aloud._) You always _were_ keen about poetry and literature and that in the old days, weren't you?

Used to rag me for not readin' enough. But I do now. I was readin' a book only last week. I'll tell you the name if you give me a minute to think--book everybody's readin' just now--no end of a clever book.

[Miss SPELWANE _rushes across to_ Lady MAISIE.

_Miss Spelwane._ Maisie, dear, how are you? You look _so_ tired!

That's the journey, I suppose. (_Whispering._) Do tell me--is that really the author of _Andromeda_ drinking tea close by? You're a _great_ friend of his, I know. Do be a dear, and introduce him to me!

I declare the dogs have made friends with him already. Poets have such a wonderful attraction for animals, haven't they?

[Lady MAISIE _has to bring_ SPURRELL _up and introduce him_; Captain THICKNESSE _chooses to consider himself dismissed_.

_Miss Spelwane_ (_with shy adoration_). Oh, Mr. Spurrell, I feel as if I _must_ talk to you about _Andromeda_. I _did_ so admire it!

_Spurrell_ (_to himself_). Another of 'em! They seem uncommonly sweet on "bulls" in this house! (_Aloud._) Very glad to hear you say so, I'm sure. But I'm bound to say she's about as near perfection as anything _I_ ever--I dare say you went over her points----

_Miss Spelwane._ Indeed, I believe none of them were lost upon me; but my poor little praise must seem so worthless and ignorant!

_Spurrell_ (_indulgently_). Oh, I wouldn't say _that_. I find some ladies very knowing about these things. I'm having a picture done of her.

_Miss Spelwane._ Are you really? _How_ delightful! As a frontispiece?

_Spurrell._ Eh? Oh no--full length, and sideways--so as to show her legs, you know.

_Miss Spelwane._ Her legs? Oh, of _course_--with "her roseal toes cramped." I thought that such a _wonderful_ touch!

_Spurrell._ They're not more cramped than they ought to be; she never turned them _in_, you know!

_Miss Spelwane_ (_mystified_). I didn't suppose she did. And now tell me--if it's not an indiscreet question--when do you expect there'll be another edition?

_Spurrell_ (_to himself_). Another addition! _She's_ cadging for a pup now! (_Aloud._) Oh--er--really--couldn't say.

_Miss Spelwane._ I'm sure the first must be disposed of by this time.

I shall look out for the next _so_ eagerly!

_Spurrell_ (_to himself_). Time I "off"ed it. (_Aloud._) Afraid I can't say anything definite--and, excuse me leaving you, but I think Lady Culverin is looking my way.

_Miss Spelwane._ Oh, by all _means_? (_To herself._) I might as well praise a pillar-post! And after spending quite half an hour reading him up, too! I wonder if Bertie Pilliner was right; but I shall have him all to myself at dinner.

_Lady Cantire._ And where is Rupert? too busy of _course_ to come and say a word! Well, some day he may understand what a sister is--when it's too late. Ah, here's our nice una.s.suming young poet coming up to talk to you. Don't _repel_ him, my dear!

_Spurrell_ (_to himself_). Better give her the chance of telling me what's wrong with the horse, I suppose. (_Aloud._) Er--nice old-fashioned sort of house this, Lady Culverin. (_To himself._) I'll work round to the stabling by degrees.

_Lady Culverin_ (_coldly_). I believe it dates from the Tudors--if that is what you mean.

_Lady Cantire._ My dear Albinia, I _quite_ understand him; "old-fashioned" is _exactly_ the epithet. And I was born and brought up here, so perhaps I should know.

[_A footman enters, and comes up to_ SPURRELL _mysteriously._

_Footman._ Will you let me have your keys, if you please, sir?

_Spurrell_ (_in some alarm_). My keys! (_Suspiciously._) Why, what do you want _them_ for?

[Ill.u.s.tration: "MY KEYS! WHY, WHAT DO YOU WANT THEM FOR?"]

_Lady Cantire_ (_in a whisper_). Isn't he _deliciously_ unsophisticated? Quite a child of nature! (_Aloud._) My dear Mr.

Spurrell, he wants your keys to unlock your portmanteau and put out your things; you'll be able to dress for dinner all the quicker.

_Spurrell._ Do you mean--am I to have the honour of sitting down to table with all of _you_?

_Lady Culverin_ (_to herself_). Oh, my goodness, what _will_ Rupert say? (_Aloud._) Why, of course, Mr. Spurrell; how can you ask?

_Spurrell_ (_feebly_). I--I didn't know, that was all. (_To_ Footman.) Here you are, then. (_To himself._) Put out my things?--he'll find nothing to put out except a nightgown, sponge bag, and a couple of brushes! If I'd only known I should be let in for this, I'd have brought dress-clothes. But how _could_ I? I--I wonder if it would be any good telling 'em quietly how it is. I shouldn't like 'em to think I hadn't got any. (_He looks at_ Lady CANTIRE _and her sister-in-law, who are talking in an undertone_.) No, perhaps I'd better let it alone. I--I can allude to it in a joky sort of way when I come down!

PART VIII

SURPRISES--AGREEABLE AND OTHERWISE

_In the Amber Boudoir._ Sir RUPERT _has just entered_.

_Sir Rupert._ Ha, Maisie, my dear, glad to see you! Well, Rohesia, how are you, eh? You're _looking_ uncommonly well! No idea you were here!

_Spurrell_ (_to himself_). Sir Rupert! He'll hoof me out of this pretty soon, I expect!