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PART XXIII
SHRINKAGE

In the Yew Walk.

Lady Maisie (to herself, as she watches Undershell approaching). How badly he walks, and what does he mean by smiling at me like that? (Aloud, coldly.) I am sorry, Mr. Blair, but I must leave you to finish your stroll alone; my maid has just told me —

Undershell (vehemently). Lady Maisie, I ask you, in common fairness, not to judge me until you have heard my version. You will not allow the fact that I travelled down here in the same compartment with your maid, Phillipson —

Lady Maisie (wide-eyed). The same! But we came by that train. I thought you missed it?

Undershell. I – I was not so fortunate. It is rather a long and complicated story, but —

Lady Maisie. I'm afraid I really can't listen to you now, Mr. Blair, after what I have heard from Phillipson —

Undershell. I implore you not to go without hearing both sides. Sit down again – if only for a minute. I feel confident that I can explain everything satisfactorily.

Lady Maisie (sitting down). I can't imagine what there is to explain – and really I ought, if Phillipson —

Undershell. You know what maids are, Lady Maisie. They embroider. Unintentionally, I dare say, but still, they do embroider.

Lady Maisie (puzzled). She is very clever at mending lace, I know, though what that has to do with it —

Undershell. Listen to me, Lady Maisie. I came to this house at your bidding. Yes, but for your written appeal, I should have treated the invitation I received from your aunt with silent contempt. Had I obeyed my first impulse and ignored it, I should have been spared humiliations and indignities which ought rather to excite your pity than – than any other sensation. Think – try to realise what my feelings must have been when I found myself expected by the butler here to sit down to supper with him and the upper servants in the housekeeper's room!

Lady Maisie (shocked). Oh, Mr. Blair! Indeed, I had no – You weren't really! How could they? What did you say?

Undershell (haughtily). I believe I let him know my opinion of the snobbery of his employers in treating a guest of theirs so cavalierly.

Lady Maisie (distressed). But surely —surely you couldn't suppose that my uncle and aunt were capable of —

Undershell. What else could I suppose, under the circumstances? It is true I have since learnt that I was mistaken in this particular instance; but I am not ignorant of the ingrained contempt you aristocrats have for all who live by exercising their intellect – the bitter scorn of birth for brains!

Lady Maisie. I am afraid the – the contempt is all on the other side; but if that is how you feel about it, I don't wonder that you were indignant.

Undershell. Indignant! I was furious. In fact, nothing would have induced me to sit down to supper at all, if it hadn't been for —

Lady Maisie (in a small voice). Then – you did sit down? With the servants! Oh, Mr. Blair!

Undershell. I thought you were already aware of it. Yes, Lady Maisie, I endured even that. But (with magnanimity) you must not distress yourself about it now. If I can forget it, surely you can do so!

Lady Maisie. Can I? That you should have consented, for any consideration whatever; how could you – how could you?

Undershell (to himself). She admires me all the more for it. But I knew she would take the right view! (Aloud, with pathos.) I was only compelled by absolute starvation. I had had an unusually light lunch, and I was so hungry!

Lady Maisie (after a pause). That explains it, of course… I hope they gave you a good supper!

Undershell. Excellent, thank you. Indeed, I was astonished at the variety and even luxury of the table. There was a pyramid of quails —

Lady Maisie. I am pleased to hear it. But I thought there was something you were going to explain.

Undershell. I have been endeavouring to explain to the best of my ability that if I have undesignedly been the cause of – er – a temporary diversion in the state of Miss Phillipson's affections, no one could regret more deeply than I that the – er – ordinary amenities of the supper-table should have been mistaken for —

Lady Maisie (horrified). Oh, stop, Mr. Blair, please stop! I don't want to hear any more. I see now. It was you who —

Undershell. Of course it was I. Surely the girl herself has been telling you so just now!

Lady Maisie. You really thought that possible, too? She simply came with a message from my mother.

Undershell (slightly disconcerted). Oh! If I had known it was merely that. However, I am sure I need not ask you to treat my – my communication in the strictest confidence, Lady Maisie.

Lady Maisie. Indeed, that is perfectly unnecessary, Mr. Blair.

Undershell. Yes, I felt from the first that I could trust you – even with my life. And I cannot regret having told you, if it has enabled you to understand me more thoroughly. It is such a relief that you know all, and that there are no more secrets between us. You do feel that I only acted as was natural and inevitable under the circumstances?

Lady Maisie. Oh yes, yes. I – I dare say you could not help it. I mean you did quite, quite right!

Undershell. Ah, how you comfort me with your fresh girlish – You are not going, Lady Maisie?

Lady Maisie (rising). I must. I ought to have gone before. My mother wants me. No, you are not to come too; you can go on and gather those snowdrops, you know.

[She walks slowly back to the house.

Undershell (looking after her). She took it wonderfully well. I've made it all right, or she wouldn't have said that about the snowdrops. Yes, she shall not be disappointed; she shall have her posy!

In the Morning-room. Half an hour later.

Lady Maisie (alone – to herself). Thank goodness, that's over! It was awful. I don't think I ever saw mamma a deeper shade of plum colour! How I have been mistaken in Mr. Blair! That he could write those lines —

"Aspiring unto that far-off Ideal,
I may not stoop to any meaner love,"

and yet philander with my poor foolish Phillipson the moment he met her! And then to tell mamma about my letter like that! Why, even Mr. Spurrell had more discretion – to be sure, he knew nothing about it – but that makes no difference! Rhoda was right; I ought to have allowed a margin – only I should never have allowed margin enough! The worst of it is that, if mamma was unjust in some things she said, she was right about one. I have disgusted Gerald. He mayn't be brilliant, but at least he's straightforward and loyal and a gentleman, and – and he did like me once. He doesn't any more – or he wouldn't have gone away. And it may be ages before I ever get a chance to let him see how dreadfully sorry – (She turns, and sees Captain Thicknesse.) Oh, haven't you gone yet?

Captain Thicknesse. Yes, I went, but I've come back again. I – I couldn't help it; 'pon my word I couldn't.

Lady Maisie (with a sudden flush). You – you weren't sent for – by – by any one?

Captain Thicknesse. So likely any one would send for me, isn't it?

Lady Maisie. I don't know why I said that; it was silly, of course. But how —

Captain Thicknesse. Ran it a bit too fine; got to Shuntin'bridge just in time to see the tail end of the train disappearin'; wasn't another for hours – not much to do there, don't you know.

Lady Maisie. You might have taken a walk – or gone to church.

Captain Thicknesse. So I might, didn't occur to me; and besides, I – I remembered I never said good-bye to you.

Lady Maisie. Didn't you? And whose fault was that?

Captain Thicknesse. Not mine, anyhow. You were somewhere about the grounds with Mr. Blair.

Lady Maisie. Now you mention it, I believe I was. We had – rather an interesting conversation. Still, you might have come to look for me!

Captain Thicknesse. Perhaps you wouldn't have been over and above glad to see me.

Lady Maisie. Oh yes, I should! – When it was to say good-bye, you know!

Captain Thicknesse. Ah! Well, I suppose I shall only be in the way if I stop here any longer now.

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.

Undershell (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?

Undershell (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!

Undershell (dolefully). I – I had no such intention, I assure 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.

Undershell (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'?

Undershell (annoyed). Only, Lady Rhoda, in the sense that I have hitherto failed to discover any form of creed that commands my intellectual assent.

Lady Rhoda (unimpressed). I expect you haven't tried. Are you a – what d'ye call it? – a Lacedemoniac?

Undershell (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 —

Undershell (to himself). Great blundering booby! Can't he see nobody 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 – Undershell? Care to come with us?

Undershell (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?

Undershell. 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 anticipation as long as possible. (To the rest.) Well, are you coming?

[All except Undershell follow their host out.

Undershell (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.

Undershell (detaining her, as she seemed about to pass on). I have another piece of intelligence which you may hear less – er – philosophically, Lady Maisie. Your bête noire has returned.

Lady Maisie (with lifted eyebrows). My bête noire, Mr. Blair?

Undershell. 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.

Undershell. Then appearances are deceptive indeed. Come, Lady Maisie, surely you can trust me!

[Lady Cantire enters.

Lady Cantire (in her most awful tones). Maisie, my dear, I appear to have interrupted an interview of a somewhat confidential character. If so, pray let me know it, and I will go elsewhere.

Lady Maisie (calmly). Not in the very least, mamma. Mr. Blair was merely trying to prepare me for the fact that Captain Thicknesse has come back; which was quite needless, as I happen to have heard it already from his own lips.

Lady Cantire. Captain Thicknesse come back! (To Undershell.) I wish to speak to my daughter. May I ask you to leave us?

Undershell. With pleasure, Lady Cantire. (To himself, as he retires.) What a consummate actress that girl is! And what a coquette!

Lady Cantire (after a silence). Maisie, what does all this mean? No nonsense, now! What brought Gerald Thicknesse back?

Lady Maisie. I suppose the dog-cart, mamma. He missed his train, you know. I don't think he minds – much.

Lady Cantire. Let me tell you this, my dear. It is a great deal more than you deserve after – How long has he come back for?

Lady Maisie. Only a few hours; but – but from things he said, I fancy he would stay on longer – if Aunt Albinia asked him.

Lady Cantire. Then we may consider that settled; he stays. (Lady Culverin appears.) Here is your aunt. You had better leave us, my dear.

Somewhat later; the Party have assembled for Lunch.

Sir Rupert (to his wife). Well, my dear, I've seen that young Spurrell (smart fellow he is, too, thoroughly up in his business), and you'll be glad to hear he can't find anything seriously wrong with Deerfoot.

Undershell (in the background, to himself). No more could I, for that matter!

Sir Rupert. He's clear it isn't navicular, which Adams was afraid of, and he thinks, with care and rest, you know, the horse will be as fit as a fiddle in a very few days.

Undershell (to himself). Just exactly what I told them; but the fools wouldn't believe me!

Lady Culverin. Oh, Rupert, I am so glad. How clever of that nice Mr. Spurrell! I was afraid my poor Deerfoot would have to be shot.

Undershell (to himself). She may thank me that he wasn't. And this other fellow gets all the credit for it. How like Life!

Lady Maisie. And, Uncle Rupert, how about – about Phillipson, you know? Is it all right?

Sir Rupert. Phillipson? Oh, why, 'pon my word, my dear, didn't think of asking.

Lady Rhoda. But I did, Maisie. And they met this mornin', and it's all settled, and they're as happy as they can be. Except that he's on the look out for a mysterious stranger, who disappeared last night, after tryin' to make desperate love to her. He is determined, if he can find him, to give him a piece of his mind.

[Undershell endeavours to conceal his extreme uneasiness.

Pilliner. And the whole of a horsewhip. He invited my opinion of it as an implement of castigation. Kind of thing, you know, that would impart "proficiency in the trois temps, as danced in the most select circles," in a single lesson to a lame bear. (To himself.) I drew my little bow at a venture, and I'm hanged if it hasn't touched him up! There's something fishy about this chap – I felt it all along. Still, I don't see what more I can do – or I'd do it, for poor old Gerry Thicknesse's sake.

Undershell (to himself). I don't stir a step out of this house while I'm here, that's all!

Sir Rupert. Ha-ha! Athletic young chap that. Glad to see him in the field next Tuesday. By the way, Albinia, you've heard how Thicknesse here contrived to miss his train this morning? Our gain, of course; but still we must manage to get you back to Aldershot to-night, my boy, or you'll get called over the coals by your colonel when you do put in an appearance, hey? Now, let's see; what train ought you to catch?

[He takes up "Bradshaw" from a writing-table.

Lady Cantire (possessing herself of the volume). Allow me, Rupert, my eyes are better than yours. I will look out his trains for him. (After consulting various pages.) Just as I thought! Quite impossible for him to reach North Camp to-night now. There isn't a train till six, and that gets to town just too late for him to drive across to Waterloo and catch the last Aldershot train. So there's no more to be said.

[She puts "Bradshaw" away.

Captain Thicknesse (with undisguised relief). Oh, well, dessay they won't kick up much of a row if I don't get back till to-morrow, – or the day after, if it comes to that.

Undershell (to himself). It shan't come to that – if I can prevent it! Lady Maisie is quite in despair, I can see. (Aloud.) Indeed? I was – a – not aware that discipline was quite so lax as that in the British Army. And surely officers should set an example of —

[He finds that his intervention has produced a distinct sensation, and, taking up the discarded "Bradshaw" becomes engrossed in its study.

Captain Thicknesse (ignoring him completely). It's like this, Lady Culverin. Somehow I – I muddled up the dates, don't you know. Mean to say, got it into my head to-day was the 20th, instead of only the 18th. (Lamely.) That's how it was.

Lady Culverin. Delightful, my dear Gerald. Then we shall keep you here till Tuesday, of course!

Undershell (looking up from "Bradshaw," impulsively). Lady Culverin, I see there's a very good train which leaves Shuntingbridge at 3.15 this afternoon, and gets —

[The rest regard him with unaffected surprise and disapproval.

Lady Cantire (raising her glasses). Upon my word, Mr. Blair! If you will kindly leave Captain Thicknesse to make his own arrangements – !

Lady Maisie (interposing hastily). But, mamma, you must have misunderstood Mr. Blair! As if he would dream of – He was merely mentioning the train he wishes to go by himself. Weren't you, Mr. Blair?

Undershell (blinking and gasping). I – eh? Just so, that – that was my intention, certainly. (To himself.) Does she at all realise what this will cost her?

Lady Culverin. My dear Mr. Blair, I – I'd no notion we were to lose you so soon; but if you're really quite sure you must go —

Lady Cantire (sharply). Really, Albinia, we must give him credit for knowing his own mind. He tells you he is obliged to go!

Lady Culverin. Then of course we must let you do exactly as you please.

Pilliner (to himself). Lady Maisie's a little brick! No notion she had it in her. No occasion to bother myself about the beggar now. "Let him alone and he'll go home, and carry his tail beneath him!"

[All except Miss Spelwane breathe more freely; Tredwell appears.

Lady Culverin. Oh, lunch, is it, Tredwell? Very well. By the bye, see that some one packs Mr. Undershell's things for him, and tell them to send the dog-cart round after lunch in time to catch the 3.15 from Shuntingbridge.

Archie (sotto voce, to Pilliner). We don't want any more missin' of trains, eh? I'll go round and see the cart properly balanced myself this time.

Pilliner (in the same tone). No, dear boy, you're not to be trusted! I'll see that done, then the bard and his train will be alike in one respect —neither of 'em 'll be missed!

Miss Spelwane (to herself, piqued.) Going already! I wish I had never touched his ridiculous snowdrops!

Lady Culverin. Well, shall we go in to lunch, everybody?

[They move in irregular order towards the dining-hall.

Undershell (in an undertone to Lady Maisie, as they follow last). Lady Maisie, I – er – this is just a little unexpected. I confess I don't quite understand your precise motive in suggesting so – so hasty a departure.

Lady Maisie (without looking at him). Don't you, Mr. Blair? Perhaps – when you come to think over it all quietly – you will.

[She passes on, leaving him perplexed.

Undershell (to himself). Shall I? I certainly can't say I do just – Why, yes, I do! That bully Spurrell with his horsewhip! She dreads an encounter between us – and I should much prefer to avoid it myself. Yes; that's it, of course. She is willing to sacrifice anything rather than endanger my personal safety! What unselfish angels some women are! Even that sneering fellow Drysdale will be impressed when I tell him this… Yes, it's best that I should go – I see that now. I don't so much mind leaving. Without any false humility, I can hardly avoid seeing that, even in the short time I have been amongst these people, I have produced a decided impression. And there is at least one – perhaps two– who will miss me when I am gone.