Lady Culv. Well, shall we go in to lunch, everybody?
[They move in irregular order towards the Dining Hall.
Und. (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.
Und. (to himself). Shall I? I certainly can't say I do just——Why, yes, I do! That bully Spurrell with his beastly 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 among these people, I have produced a decided impression. And there is at least one—perhaps two—who will miss me when I am gone.
[He goes into the Dining Hall, with restored equanimity.
THE END.