Lady Cantire. Very possibly, my dear. I have always refrained from giving him the slightest encouragement, and I wouldn't put any pressure upon dear Maisie for the world—still, I have my feelings as a mother, and I can't deny that, with such prospects as he has now, it is gratifying for me to think that they may be coming to an understanding together at this very moment. She is showing him the grounds; which I always think are the great charm of Wyvern, so secluded!
Lady Culverin (puzzled). Together! At this very moment! But—but surely Gerald has gone?
Lady Cantire. Gone! What nonsense, Albinia! Where in the world should he have gone to?
Lady Culverin. He was leaving by the 10.40, I know. For Aldershot. I ordered the cart for him, and he said good-bye after breakfast. He seemed so dreadfully down, poor fellow, and I quite concluded from what he said that Maisie must have——
Lady Cantire. Impossible, my dear, quite impossible! I tell you he is here. Why, only a few minutes ago, Mrs. Chatteris was telling me—— Ah, here she is to speak for herself. (To Mrs. Chatteris, who appears, arrayed for divine service.) Mrs. Chatteris, did I, or did I not, understand you to say just now that my daughter Maisie——?
Mrs. Chatteris (alarmed). But, dear Lady Cantire, I had no idea you would disapprove. Indeed you seemed—— And really, though she certainly seems to find him rather well—sympathetic—I'm sure—almost sure—there can be nothing serious—at present.
Lady Cantire. Thank you, my dear, I merely wished for an answer to my question. And you see, Albinia, that Gerald Thicknesse can hardly have gone yet, since he is walking about the grounds with Maisie.
Mrs. Chatteris. Captain Thicknesse? But he has gone, Lady Cantire! I saw him start. I didn't mean him.
Lady Cantire. Indeed? then I shall be obliged if you will say who it is you did mean.
Mrs. Chatteris. Why, only her old friend and admirer—that little poet man, Mr. Blair.