Lady Cant. I thought we were given to understand last night that Mr. Spurrell—Mr. Blair—you must pardon me, but it's really so very confusing—that the writer of the—ah—volume in question had already left Wyvern.
Sir Rup. Well, my dear, you see he is still here—er—fortunately for us. If you'll excuse me, I'll leave Mr. Blair to entertain you; got to speak to Tredwell about something.
[He hurries out.
Und. (to himself). This must be Lady Maisie's mamma. Better be civil to her, I suppose, but I can't stay here and entertain her long! (Aloud.) Lady Cantire, I—er—have an appointment for which I am already a little late; but before I go, I should like to tell you how much pleasure it has given me to know that my poor verse has won your approval; appreciation from——
Lady Cant. I'm afraid you must have been misinformed, Mr.—a—Blair. There are so many serious publications claiming attention in these days of literary over-production that I have long made it a rule to read no literature of a lighter order that has not been before the world for at least ten years. I may be mistaken, but I infer from your appearance that your own work must be of a considerably more recent date.
Und. (to himself). If she imagines she's going to snub Me——! (Aloud.) Then I was evidently mistaken in gathering from some expressions in your daughter's letter that——
Lady Cant. Entirely. You are probably thinking of some totally different person, as my daughter has never mentioned having written to you, and is not in the habit of conducting any correspondence without my full knowledge and approval. I think you said you had some appointment; if so, pray don't consider yourself under any necessity to remain.
Und. You are very good; I will not. (To himself, as he retires.) Awful old lady, that! I quite thought she would know all about that letter, or I should never have——However, I said nothing to compromise anyone, luckily!
Lady Culverin (entering). Good morning, Rohesia. So glad you felt equal to coming down. I was almost afraid—after last night, you know.
Lady Cant. (offering a cold cheekbone for salutation). I am in my usual health, thank you, Albinia. As to last night, if you must ask a literary Socialist down here, you might at least see that he is received with common courtesy. You may, for anything you can tell, have advanced the Social Revolution ten years in a single evening!