Undershell (recovering his sangfroid). I am hardly likely to have heard of it from any other quarter.
Lady Maisie. Of course not. And did he tell you that she was here, in this very house?
Undershell. No, he never mentioned that. What a remarkable coincidence!
Lady Maisie. Yes, rather. The worst of it is that the foolish girl seems to have heard that he was a guest here, and have jumped to the conclusion that he had ceased to care for her; so she revenged herself by a desperate flirtation with some worthless wretch she met in the housekeeper's room, whose flattery and admiration, I'm very much afraid, have completely turned her head!
Undershell (uncomfortably). Ah, well, she must learn to forget him, and no doubt, in time—— How wonderful the pale sunlight is on that yew hedge!
Lady Maisie. You are not very sympathetic! I should not have told you at all, only I wanted to show you that if poor Mr. Spurrell did innocently usurp your place, he may have lost—— But I see all this only bores you.
Undershell. Candidly, Lady Maisie, I can't affect a very keen interest in the—er—gossip of the housekeeper's room. Indeed, I am rather surprised that you should condescend to listen to——
Lady Maisie (to herself). This is really too much! (Aloud.) It never occurred to me that I was "condescending" in taking an interest in a pretty and wayward girl who happens to be my maid. But then, I'm not a Democrat, Mr. Blair.
Undershell. I—I'm afraid you construed my remark as a rebuke; which it was not at all intended to be.
Lady Maisie. It would have been rather superfluous if it had been, wouldn't it? (Observing his growing uneasiness.) I'm afraid you don't find this bench quite comfortable?