_Lady Maisie._ Do you? What makes you suppose that?

_Captain Thicknesse._ Nothin'! Saw your friend the bard hurryin' along the terrace with a bunch of snowdrops; he'll be here in another----

_Lady Maisie_ (_in unmistakable horror_). Gerald, _why_ didn't you tell me before? There's only just time!

[_She flies to a door and opens it._

_Captain Thicknesse._ But I _say_, you know! Maisie, may I come too?

_Lady Maisie._ Don't be a _goose_, Gerald. Of course you can, if you like.

[_She disappears in the conservatory._

_Captain Thicknesse_ (_to himself_). Can't quite make this out, but I'm no end glad I came back!

[_He follows quickly._

_Undersh.e.l.l_ (_entering_). I hoped I should find her here. (_He looks round._) Her mother's gone--that's _something_! I dare say Lady Maisie will come in presently. (_He sits down and re-arranges his snowdrops._) It will be sweet to see her face light up when I offer her these as a symbol of the new and closer link between us! (_He hears the sound of drapery behind him._) Ah, already! (_Rising, and presenting his flowers with downcast eyes._) I--I have ventured to gather these--for you. (_He raises his eyes._) Miss Spelwane!

_Miss Spelwane_ (_taking them graciously_). How very sweet of you, Mr.

Blair. Are they really for me?

[Ill.u.s.tration: "HOW VERY SWEET OF YOU, MR. BLAIR. ARE THEY REALLY FOR ME?"]

_Undersh.e.l.l_ (_concealing his disappointment_). Oh--er--yes. If you will give me the pleasure of accepting them.

_Miss Spelwane._ I feel immensely proud. I was so afraid you must have thought I was rather cross to you last night. I didn't mean to be. I was feeling a little overdone, that was all. But you have chosen a charming way of letting me see that I am forgiven. (_To herself._) It's really _too_ touching. He certainly is a great improvement on the other wretch!

_Undersh.e.l.l_ (_dolefully_). I--I had no such intention, I a.s.sure you.

(_To himself._) I hope to goodness Lady Maisie won't come in before I can get rid of this girl. I seem fated to be misunderstood here!

PART XXIV

THE HAPPY DISPATCH

"Perhaps it was right to dissemble your love, but----"

_In the Morning-room._ TIME--_About_ 1 P.M.

_Undersh.e.l.l_ (_to himself alone_). I'm rather sorry that that Miss Spelwane couldn't stay. She's a trifle angular--but clever. It was distinctly sharp of her to see through that fellow Spurrell from the first, and lay such an ingenious little trap for him. And she has a great feeling for Literature--knows my verses by heart, I discovered, quite accidentally. All the same, I wish she hadn't intercepted those snowdrops. Now I shall have to go out and pick some more. (_Sounds outside in the entrance hall._) Too late--they've got back from church!

_Mrs. Brooke-Chatteris_ (_entering with_ Lady RHODA, Sir RUPERT _and_ BEARPARK). Such a nice, plain, simple service--I'm positively _ravenous_!

_Lady Rhoda._ Struck me some of those chubby choir-boys wanted smackin'. What a business it seems to get the servants properly into their pew--as bad as boxin' a string of hunters! As for _you_, Archie, the way you fidgeted durin' the sermon was downright disgraceful!... So _there_ you are, Mr. Blair; not been to church; but I forgot--p'raps you're a Dissenter, or somethin'?

_Undersh.e.l.l_ (_annoyed_). Only, Lady Rhoda, in the sense that I have hitherto failed to discover any form of creed that commands my intellectual a.s.sent.

_Lady Rhoda_ (_unimpressed_). I expect you haven't tried. Are you a--what d'ye call it?--a Lacedemoniac?

_Undersh.e.l.l_ (_with lofty tolerance_). I _presume_ you mean a "Laodicean." No, I should rather describe myself as a Deist.

_Archie_ (_in a surly undertone_). What's a _Deast_ when he's at home?

If he'd said a _Beast_, now! (_Aloud, as_ PILLINER _enters with_ Captain THICKNESSE.) Hullo, why, here's Thicknesse! So you _haven't_ gone, after all, then?

_Captain Thicknesse._ What an observant young beggar you are, Bearpark! Nothin' escapes you. No, I haven't. (_To_ Sir RUPERT, _rather sheepishly_.) Fact, is, sir, I--I somehow just missed the train, and--and--thought I might as well come back, instead of waitin'

about, don't you know.

_Sir Rupert_ (_heartily_). Why, of course, my dear boy, of course!

Never have forgiven you if you _hadn't_. Great nuisance for _you_, though. Hope you blew the fool of a man up; he _ought_ to have been round in plenty of time.

_Captain Thicknesse._ Not the groom's fault, sir. I kept him waitin' a bit, and--and we had to stop to shift the seat and that, and so----

_Undersh.e.l.l_ (_to himself_). Great blundering b.o.o.by! Can't he see n.o.body wants him _here_? As if he hadn't bored poor Lady Maisie enough at breakfast! Ah, well, I must come to her rescue once more, I suppose!

_Sir Rupert._ Half an hour to lunch! Anybody like to come round to the stables? I'm going to see how my wife's horse Deerfoot is getting on.

Fond of horses, eh, Mr.--a--Undersh.e.l.l? Care to come with us?

_Undersh.e.l.l_ (_to himself_). I've seen quite enough of _that_ beast already! (_Aloud, with some asperity._) You must really excuse me, Sir Rupert. I am at one with Mr. Ruskin--I _detest_ horses.

_Sir Rupert._ Ah? Pity. We're rather fond of 'em here. But we can't expect a poet to be a sportsman, eh?

_Undersh.e.l.l._ For my own poor part, I confess I look forward to a day, not far distant, when the spread of civilisation will have abolished every form of so-called Sport.

_Sir Rupert._ _Do_ you, though? (_After conquering a choke with difficulty._) Allow me to hope that you will continue to enjoy the pleasures of antic.i.p.ation as long as possible. (_To the rest._) Well, are you coming?

[_All except_ UNDERSh.e.l.l _follow their host out_.

_Undersh.e.l.l_ (_alone, to himself_). If they think I'm going to be _patronised_, or suppress my honest convictions----! Now I'll go and pick those---- (Lady MAISIE _enters from the conservatory_.) Ah, Lady Maisie, I have been trying to find you. I had plucked a few snowdrops, which I promised myself the pleasure of presenting to you.

Unfortunately they--er--failed to reach their destination.

_Lady Maisie_ (_distantly_). Thanks, Mr. Blair; I am only sorry you should have given yourself such unnecessary trouble.

_Undersh.e.l.l_ (_detaining her, as she seemed about to pa.s.s on_).

I have another piece of intelligence which you may hear less--er--philosophically, Lady Maisie. Your _bete noire_ has returned.

_Lady Maisie_ (_with lifted eyebrows_). My _bete noire_, Mr. Blair?

_Undersh.e.l.l._ Why affect not to understand? I have an infallible instinct in all matters concerning _you_, and, sweetly tolerant as you are, I instantly divined what an insufferable nuisance you found our military friend, Captain Thicknesse.

_Lady Maisie._ There are limits even to _my_ tolerance, Mr. Blair. I admit I find some people insufferable--but Captain Thicknesse is not one of them.

_Undersh.e.l.l._ Then appearances are deceptive indeed. Come, Lady Maisie, surely you can trust _me_!

[Lady CANTIRE _enters_.