Sir Rup. (immensely relieved). Perfectly natural! and—hum—sorry as we are to lose you, Mr. Spurrell, we—ah—mustn't be inconsiderate enough to keep you here a moment longer. I daresay you will find the young lady in the Housekeeper's Room—anyone will tell you where it is.... Good-night to you, then: and, remember, we shall expect to see you in the field on Tuesday.
Lady Maisie. Good-night, Mr. Spurrell, and—and I'm so very glad—about Emma, you know. I hope you will both be very happy.
[She shakes hands warmly.
Lady Rhoda. So do I. And mind you don't forget about that liniment, you know.
Captain Thicknesse (to himself). Maisie don't care a hang! And I was ass enough to fancy——But there, that's all over now!
Scene XXVIII.—The Verney Chamber.
Undershell (in the dressing-room, to himself). I wonder how long I've been locked up here—it seems hours! I almost hope they've forgotten me altogether.... Someone has come in.... If it should be Sir Rupert!! Great Heavens, what a situation to be found in by one's host!... Perhaps it's only that fellow Spurrell; if so, there's a chance. (The door is unlocked by Tredwell, who has lighted the candles on the dressing-table.) It's the butler again. Well, I shall soon know the worst! (He steps out, blinking, with as much dignity as possible.) Perhaps you will kindly inform me why I have been subjected to this indignity?
Tred. (in perturbation). I think Mr. Undershell, Sir, in common fairness, you'll admit as you've mainly yourself to thank for any mistakes that have occurred; for which I 'asten to express my pussonal regret.
Und. So long as you realise that you have made a mistake, I am willing to overlook it, on condition that you help me to get away from this place without your master and mistress's knowledge.
Tred. It's too late, Sir. They know you're 'ere!