Sir Rup. I don't know that I'm in the habit of being uncivil to any guest of yours in this house, my dear, but I'll be hanged if I grovel to him, you know; the tide ain't as high as all that. But it's an infernal nuisance, 'pon my word it is; you must look after him yourself, I can't. I don't know what to talk to geniuses about; I've forgotten all the poetry I ever learnt. And if he comes out with any of his Red Republican theories in my hearing, why——
Lady Culv. Oh, but he won't, dear. I'm certain he'll be quite mild and inoffensive. Look at Shakspeare—the bust, I mean—and he began as a poacher!
Sir Rup. Ah, and this chap would put down the Game Laws if he could, I daresay; do away with everything that makes the country worth living in. Why, if he had his way, Albinia, there wouldn't be——
Lady Culv. I know, dear, I know. And you must make him see all that from your point. Look, the weather really seems to be clearing a little. We might all of us get out for a drive or something after lunch. I would ride, if Deerfoot's all right again; he's the only horse I ever feel really safe upon, now.
Sir Rup. Sorry, my dear, but you'll have to drive then. Adams tells me the horse is as lame as ever this morning, and he don't know what to make of it. He suggested having Horsfall over, but I've no faith in the local vets myself, so I wired to town for old Spavin. He's seen Deerfoot before, and we could put him up for a night or two. (To Tredwell, the butler, who enters with a telegram.) Eh, for me? just wait, will you, in case there's an answer. (As he opens it.) Ah, this is from Spavin—h'm, nuisance! "Regret unable to leave at present, bronchitis, junior partner could attend immediately if required.—Spavin." Never knew he had a partner.
Tredw. I did hear, Sir Rupert, as Mr. Spavin was looking out for one quite recent, being hasthmatical, m'lady, and so I suppose this is him as the telegram alludes to.
Sir Rup. Very likely. Well, he's sure to be a competent man. We'd better have him, eh, Albinia?
Lady Culv. Oh, yes, and he must stay till Deerfoot's better. I'll speak to Pomfret about having a room ready in the East Wing for him. Tell him to come by the 4.45, Rupert. We shall be sending the omnibus in to meet that.
Sir Rup. All right, I've told him. (Giving the form to Tredwell.) See that that's sent off at once, please. (After Tredwell has left.) By the way, Albinia, Rohesia may kick up a row if she has to come up in the omnibus with a vet, eh?
Lady Culv. Goodness, so she might! but he needn't go inside. Still, if it goes on raining—I'll tell Thomas to order a fly for him at the station, and then there can't be any bother about it.