SCENE XII.--_The Amber Boudoir at Wyvern--immediately after_ Lady
CANTIRE _and her daughter have entered._
_Lady Cantire_ (_in reply to_ Lady CULVERIN). Tea? oh yes, my dear;
anything _warm_! I'm positively perished--that tedious cold journey and
the long drive afterwards! I always tell RUPERT he would see me _far_
oftener at Wyvern if he would only get the Company to bring the line
round close to the Park Gates, but it has _no_ effect upon him! (_As_
TREDWELL _announces_ SPURRELL, _who enters in trepidation_.) Mr. JAMES
SPURRELL! Who's Mr.----? Oh, to be sure; _that_'s the name of my
interesting young poet--_Andromeda_, you know, my dear! Go and be
pleasant to him, ALBINIA, he wants reassuring.
_Lady Culverin (a trifle nervous)._ How do you do, Mr.--ah--SPURRELL?
(_To herself._) I _said_ he ended in "'ell"! (_Aloud._) So pleased to
see you! We think so much of your _Andromeda_ here, you know. Quite
delightful of you to find time to run down!
_Spurrell (to himself)._ Why _she_'s chummy, too! Old Drummy pulls me
through everything! (_Aloud._) Don't name it, my la--hum--Lady CULVERIN.
No trouble at all; only too proud to get your summons!
_Lady Culv. (to herself)._ He doesn't seem very revolutionary!
(_Aloud._) That's so sweet of you; when so many must be absolutely
fighting to get you!
_Spurr._ Oh, as for that, there _is_ rather a run on me just now, but I
put everything else aside for _you_, of course!
_Lady Culv. (to herself)._ He's soon _reassured_. (_Aloud, with a touch
of frost._) I am sure we must consider ourselves most fortunate.
(_Turning to the_ Countess.) You _did_ say cream, ROHESIA? Sugar, MAISIE
dearest?
_Spurr. (to himself)._ I'm all right up to now! I suppose I'd better say
nothing about the horse till _they_ do. I feel rather out of it among
these nobs, though. I'll try and chum on to little Lady MAISIE again;
she may have got over her temper by this time, and she's the only one I
know. (_He approaches her._) Well, Lady MAISIE, here I _am_, you see.
I'd really no idea your aunt would be so friendly! I say, you know, you
don't mind _speaking_ to a fellow, do you? I've no one else I can go
to--and--and it's a bit strange at first, you know!
_Lady Maisie (coloured with mingled apprehension, vexation, and pity)._
If I can be of any help to you, Mr. SPURRELL----!
_Spurr._ Well, if you'd only tell me what I ought to _do_!
[Illustration: "My keys! Why, what do you want _them_ for?"]
_Lady Maisie._ Surely that's very simple; do _nothing_; just take
everything quietly as it comes, and you _can't_ make any mistakes.
_Spurr. (anxiously)._ And you don't think anybody'll see anything odd in
my being here like this?
_Lady Maisie (to herself)._ I'm only too afraid they _will_! (_Aloud._)
You really _must_ have a little self-confidence. Just remember that no
one here could produce anything a millionth part as splendid as your
_Andromeda_! It's _too_ distressing to see you so _appallingly_ humble!
(_To herself._) There's Captain THICKNESSE over there--he MIGHT come and
rescue me; but he doesn't seem to care to!
_Spurr._ Well, you _do_ put some heart into me, Lady MAISIE. I feel
equal to the lot of 'em now!
_Pilliner_ (_to_ Miss SPELWANE). Is _that_ the Poet? Why, but I
say--he's a _fraud_! Where's his matted head? He's not a bit ragged, or
rusty either. And why don't he dabble? Don't seem to know what to do
with his hands quite, though, _does_ he?
_Miss Spelwane (coldly)._ He knows how to do some very exquisite poetry
with _one_ of them, at all events. I've been reading it, and _I_ think
it perfectly marvellous!
_Pill._ I see what it is, you're preparing to turn his matted head for
him? I warn you you'll only waste your sweetness. That pretty little
Lady MAISIE'S annexed _him_. Can't you content yourself with _one_
victim?
_Miss Spelw._ Don't be so utterly idiotic! (_To herself._) If MAISIE
imagines she's to be allowed to monopolise the only man in the room
worth talking to!----
_Captain Thicknesse_ (_to himself, as he watches_ Lady MAISIE). She is
lookin' prettier than ever! Forgotten me. Used to be friendly enough
once, though, till her mother warned me off. Seems to have a good deal
to say to that Poet fellow; saw her colour up from here the moment he
came near; he's _begun_ Petrarchin', hang him! I'd cross over and speak
to her if I could catch her eye. Don't know, though; what's the use? She
wouldn't thank me for interruptin'. She likes these clever chaps;
don't signify to her if they _are_ bounders, I suppose. _I_'m not
intellectual. Gad, I wish I'd gone back to Aldershot!
_Lady Cant. (by the tea-table)._ Why don't you make that woman of yours
send you up decent cakes, my dear? These are cinders. I'm afraid you let
her have too much of her own way. Now, tell me--who are your party?
VIVIEN SPELWANE! Never have that girl to meet me again, I can't _endure_
her; and that affected little ape of a Mr. PILLINER--h'm! Do I see
Captain THICKNESSE? Now, I don't object to _him_. MAISIE and he used to
be great friends.... Ah, how do you _do_, Captain THICKNESSE? Quite
pleasant finding you here; such ages since we saw anything of you! Why
haven't you been near us all this time?... Oh, I may have been out once
or twice when you called; but you might have tried again, _mightn't_
you? There, _I_ forgive you; you had better go and see if you can make
your peace with MAISIE!
_Capt. Thick. (to himself, as he obeys)._ Doosid odd, the Countess
comin' round like this. Wish she'd thought of it before.
_Lady Cant. (in a whisper)._ He's always been such a favourite of mine.
They tell me his uncle, poor dear Lord DUNDERHEAD, is _so_ ill--felt the
loss of his only son so terribly. Of course it will make a great
difference--in many ways.
_Capt. Thick._ (_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.
_Capt. Thick._ How are you? Been hearin' a lot about you lately.
_Andromeda_, don't you know; and that kind of thing.
_Spurr._ 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_.
_Capt. Thick._ 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?
_Capt. Thick._ 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.
_Capt. Thick. (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 Spelw._ 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 Spelw. (with shy adoration)._ Oh, Mr. SPURRELL, I feel as if I
_must_ talk to you about _Andromeda_. I _did_ so admire it!
_Spurr. (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. I've seen nothing to touch her myself. I don't know if you noticed
all her points----?
_Miss Spelw._ Indeed, I believe none of them were lost upon me; but my
poor little praise must seem so worthless and ignorant!
_Spurr. (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 Spelw._ Are you really? _How_ delightful! As a frontispiece?
_Spurr._ Eh? Oh no--full length, and sideways--so as to show her legs,
you know.
_Miss Spelw._ Her legs? Oh, of _course_--with "her roseal toes cramped."
I thought that such a _wonderful_ touch!
_Spurr._ They're not more cramped than they ought to be; she never
turned them _in_, you know!
_Miss Spelw. (mystified)._ I didn't mean that. And now tell me--if it's
not an indiscreet question--when do you expect there'll be another
edition?
_Spurr. (to himself)._ Another addition! _She_'s cadging for a pup now!
(_Aloud._) Oh--er--really--couldn't say.
_Miss Spelw._ I'm sure the first must be disposed of by this time. I
shall look out for the next _so_ eagerly!
_Spurr. (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 Spelw._ 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 Cant._ 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 unassuming young poet coming up to talk to
you. Don't _repel_ him, my dear!
_Spurr. (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 presently.
_Lady Culv. (coldly)._ I believe it dates from the Tudors--if that is
what you mean.
_Lady Cant._ 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?
_Spurr. (in some alarm)._ My keys! (_Suspiciously._) Why, what do you
want _them_ for?
_Lady Cant. (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.
_Spurr._ Do you mean--am I to have the honour of sitting down with all
of _you_?
_Lady Culv. (to herself)._ Oh, my goodness, what _will_ RUPERT say?
(_Aloud._) Why, of course, Mr. SPURRELL; how can you ask?
_Spurr. (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!
* * * * *