TIME AND THE HOUR
_In the Dining-hall._
_Spurrell_ (_to himself, uncomfortably conscious of the expectant_
THOMAS _in his rear_). Must write _something_ to this beggar, I
suppose; it'll keep him quiet. (_To_ Mrs. BROOKE-CHATTERIS.) I--I just
want to write a line or two. Could you oblige me with a lead pencil?
_Mrs. Chatteris._ You are really going to write! At a dinner-party, of
all places! Now _how_ delightfully original and unconventional of you!
I promise not to interrupt till the inspiration is over. Only, really,
I'm afraid I don't carry lead pencils about with me--so bad for one's
frocks, you know!
_Thomas_ (_in his ear_). I can lend you a pencil, sir, if you require
one.
[_He provides him with a very minute stump._
_Spurrell_ (_reading what he has written on the back of_ UNDERSHELL'S
_missive_). "Will be in my room (Verney Chamber) as soon after ten as
possible.
"J. SPURRELL."
(_He passes the paper to_ THOMAS _surreptitiously_.) There, take him
that.
[THOMAS _retires_.
_Archie_ (_to himself_.) The calm cheek of these writin' chaps! I saw
him takin' notes under the table! Lady Rhoda ought to know the sort of
fellow he is--and she shall! (_To_ Lady RHODA, _in an aggrieved
undertone_.) I should advise you to be jolly careful what you say to
your other neighbour; he's takin' it all down. I just caught him
writin'. He'll be bringing out a satire, or whatever he calls it, on
us all by and bye--you see if he won't!
_Lady Rhoda._ What an ill-natured boy you are! Just because _he_ can
write, and you _can't_. And I don't believe he's doing anythin' of the
sort. I'll ask him--_I_ don't care! (_Aloud, to_ SPURRELL.) I say, I
know I'm awfully inquisitive--but I do want to know so--you've just
been writin' notes or somethin', haven't you? Mr. Bearpark declares
you're goin' to take them all off here--you're not really, _are_ you?
_Spurrell_ (_to himself_). That sulky young chap has spotted it!
(_Aloud, stammering._) I--take everything off? _Here!_ I--I assure
you I should never even _think_ of doing anything so indelicate!
_Lady Rhoda._ I was sure that was what you'd say! But still (_with
reviving uneasiness_), I suppose you _have_ made use of things that
happened just to fit your purpose, haven't you?
_Spurrell_ (_penitently_). All I can say is, that--if I have--you
won't catch me doing it _again_! And other people's things _don't_
fit. I'd much rather have my own.
_Lady Rhoda_ (_relieved_). Of course! But I'm glad you told me. (_To_
ARCHIE, _in an undertone_.) I _asked_ him--and, as usual, you were
utterly wrong. So you'll please not to be a pig!
_Archie_ (_jealously_). And you're goin' to go on talkin' to him all
through dinner? Pleasant for me--when I took you down!
_Lady Rhoda._ You want to be taken down yourself, I think. And I mean
to talk to him if I choose. You can talk to Lady Culverin--she likes
boys! (_Turning to_ SPURRELL.) I was goin' to ask you--ought a
schipperke to have meat? Mine won't touch puppy biscuits.
[SPURRELL _enlightens her on this point_; ARCHIE _glowers_.
_Lady Cantire_ (_perceiving that the_ Bishop _is showing signs of
restiveness_). Well, Bishop, I wish I could find you a little more
ready to listen to what the other side has to say!
_The Bishop_ (_who has been "heckled" to the verge of his endurance._)
I am--ah--not conscious of any unreadiness to enter into conversation
with the very estimable lady on my other side, should an opportunity
present itself.
_Lady Cantire._ Now, that's one of your quibbles, my dear Bishop, and
I detest quibbling! But at least it shows you haven't a leg to stand
upon.
_The Bishop._ Precisely--nor to--ah--run away upon, dear lady. I am
wholly at your mercy, you perceive!
_Lady Cantire_ (_triumphantly_). Then you _admit_ you're beaten? Oh, I
don't despair of you _yet_, Bishop.
_The Bishop._ I confess I am less sanguine. (_To himself._) Shall I
have strength to bear these buffets with any remains of Christian
forbearance through three more courses? Ha, thank Heaven, the salad!
[_He cheers up at the sight of this olive-branch._
_Mrs. Earwaker_ (_to_ PILLINER). Now, I don't altogether approve of
the New Woman myself; but still, I am glad to see how women are
beginning to assert themselves and come to the front; surely you
sympathise with all that?
_Pilliner_ (_plaintively_). No, really I _can't_, you know! I'd so
much rather they _wouldn't_. They've made us poor men feel positively
obsolete! They'll snub us out of existence soon--our sex will be
extinct--and then they'll be sorry. There'll be nobody to protect them
from one another! After all, we can't help being what we are. It isn't
_my_ fault that I was born a Man Thing--now, _is_ it?
_Lady Cantire_ (_overhearing this remark_). Well, if it _is_ a fault,
Mr. Pilliner, we must all acknowledge that you've done everything in
your power to correct it!
_Pilliner_ (_sweetly_). How nice and encouraging of you, dear Lady
Cantire, to take up the cudgels for me like that!
[Lady CANTIRE _privately relieves her feelings by
expressing a preference for taking up a birch rod, and
renews her attack on the_ Bishop.
_Mr. Shorthorn_ (_who has been dragging his mental depths for a fresh
topic--hopefully, to_ Miss SPELWANE). By the bye, I haven't asked you
what you thought about these--er--revolting daughters?
_Miss Spelwane._ No, you haven't; and I thought it _so_ considerate of
you.
[Mr. SHORTHORN _gives up dragging, in discouragement_.
_Pilliner_ (_sotto voce, to_ Miss SPELWANE). Have you quite done
sitting on that poor unfortunate man? _I_ heard you!
_Miss Spelwane_ (_in the same tone_). I'm afraid I _have_ been rather
beastly to him. But, oh, he _is_ such a bore--he _would_ talk about
his horrid "silos," till I asked him whether they would eat out of his
hand. After that, the subject dropped--somehow.
_Pilliner._ I see you've been punishing him for not happening to be a
distinguished poet. I thought _he_ was to have been the fortunate man?
_Miss Spelwane._ So he was; but they changed it all at the last
moment; it really was rather provoking. I _could_ have talked to
_him_.
_Pilliner._ Lady Rhoda appears to be consoling him. Poor dear old
Archie's face is quite a study. But really I don't see that his poetry
is so very wonderful; no more did _you_ this morning!
_Miss Spelwane._ Because you deliberately picked out the worst bits,
and read them as badly as you could!
_Pilliner._ Ah, well, he's here to read them for himself now. I dare
say he'd be delighted to be asked.
_Miss Spelwane._ Do you know, Bertie, that's rather a good idea of
yours. I'll ask him to read us something to-night.
_Pilliner_ (_aghast_). To-night! With all these people here? I say,
they'll never _stand_ it, you know.
[Lady CULVERIN _gives the signal_.
_Miss Spelwane_ (_as she rises_). They ought to feel it an immense
privilege. I know _I_ shall.
_The Bishop_ (_to himself, as he rises_). Port in sight--at last! But,
oh, _what_ I have had to suffer!
_Lady Cantire_ (_at parting_). Well, we've had quite one of our old
discussions. I always enjoy talking to _you_, Bishop. But I haven't
_yet_ got at your reasons for voting as you did on the Parish Councils
Bill; we must go into that upstairs.
_The Bishop_ (_with strict veracity_). I shall be--ah--all impatience,
Lady Cantire. (_To himself._) I fervently trust that a repetition of
this experience may yet be spared me!
[Illustration: "I SHALL BE--AH--ALL IMPATIENCE, LADY
CANTIRE."]
_Lady Rhoda_ (_as she leaves_ SPURRELL). You will tell me the name of
the stuff upstairs, won't you? So very much ta!
_Archie_ (_to himself_). I'd like to tar him very much, and feather
him too, for cuttin' me out like this! (_The men sit down_; SPURRELL
_finds himself between_ ARCHIE _and_ Captain THICKNESSE, _at the
further end of the table_; ARCHIE _passes the wine to_ SPURRELL _with
a scowl_.) What are you drinkin'? Claret? What do you do your writin'
on, now, as a general thing?
_Spurrell_ (_on the defensive_). On paper, sir, when I've any to do.
Do you do yours on a _slate_?
_Captain Thicknesse._ I say, that's rather good. Had you there,
Bearpark!
_Spurrell_ (_to_ ARCHIE, _lowering his voice_). Look here, I see
you're trying to put a spoke in my wheel. You saw me writing at
dinner, and went and told that young lady I was going to take
everything off there and then, which you must have known I wasn't
likely to do. Now, sir, it's no business of yours that I can see; but,
as you seem to be interested, I may tell you that I shall go up and do
it in my own room, as soon as I leave this table, and there will be no
fuss or publicity about it whatever. I hope you're satisfied now?
_Archie._ Oh, _I_'m satisfied. (_He rises._) Left my cigarette-case
upstairs--horrid bore--must go and get it.
_Captain Thicknesse._ They'll be bringing some round in another
minute.
_Archie._ Prefer my own. (_To himself, as he leaves the hall._) I knew
I was right. That bounder _is_ meaning to scribble some rot about us
all! He's goin' straight up to his room to do it.... Well, he may find
a little surprise when he gets there!
_Captain Thicknesse_ (_to himself_). Mustn't let this poet fellow
think I'm jealous; dare say, after all, there's nothing serious
between them. Not that it matters to me; any way, I may as well talk
to him. I wonder if he knows anything about steeplechasin'.
[_He discovers that_ SPURRELL _is not unacquainted with
this branch of knowledge_.
_In a Corridor leading to the Housekeeper's Room._
TIME--9.30 P.M.
_Undershell_ (_to himself_). If I wasn't absolutely compelled by sheer
hunger, I would not touch a morsel in this house. But I can't get my
things back till after ten. As soon as ever I do, I will insist on a
conveyance to the nearest inn. In the meantime I must sup. After all,
no one need know of this humiliating adventure. And if I _am_
compelled to consort with these pampered menials, I think I shall know
how to preserve my dignity--even while adapting myself to their level.
And that girl will be there--a distinctly redeeming fact in the
situation. I will be easy--affable, even; I will lay aside all foolish
pride; it would be unreasonable to visit their employer's snobbery
upon their unoffending heads. I hear conversation inside this room.
This must be the door. I--I suppose I had better go in.
[_He enters._