Lady Culv. (hastily). Indeed, indeed, Mr. Spurrell, we couldn't think of troubling you under the circumstances! (In desperation.) Vivien, my dear, won't you sing something?
[The company echo the request with unusual eagerness.
Spurr. (to himself, during Miss Spelwane's song). Wonder what's put them off being read to all of a sudden. (As his eye happens to rest on the binding of the volume on his knee.) Hullo! This cover's pink, with silver things, not unlike cutlets, on it! Didn't Emma ask me——? By George, if it's that! I may get down to the Housekeeper's Room, after all! As soon as ever this squalling stops I'll find out; I can't go on like this! (Miss Spelwane leaves the piano; everybody plunges feverishly into conversation on the first subject—other than poetry or dogs—that presents itself, until Lord and Lady Lullington set a welcome example of departure.) Better wait till these county nobs have cleared, I suppose—there goes the last of 'em—now for it!... (He pulls himself together, and approaches his host and hostess.) Hem, Sir Rupert, and your ladyship, it's occurred to me that it's just barely possible you may have got it into your heads that I was something in the poetical way.
Sir Rup. (to himself). Not this poor young chap's fault; must let him down as easily as possible! (Aloud.) Not at all—not at all! Ha—assure you we quite understand; no necessity to say another word about it.
Spurr. (to himself). Just my luck! They quite understand! No Housekeeper's Room for me this journey! (Aloud.) Of course I knew the Countess, there, and Lady Maisie, were fully aware all along——(To Lady Maisie, as stifled exclamations reach his ear.) You were, weren't you?
Lady Maisie (hastily). Yes, yes, Mr. Spurrell. Of course! It's all perfectly right!
Spurr. (to the others). You see, I should never have thought of coming in as a visitor if it hadn't been for the Countess; she would have it that it was all right, and that I needn't be afraid I shouldn't be welcome.
Lady Culv. To be sure—any friend of my sister-in-law's——
Lady Cant. Albinia, I have refrained from speech as long as possible; but this is really too much! You don't suppose I should have introduced Mr. Spurrell here unless I had had the strongest reasons for knowing, however he may be pleased to mystify us now, that he, and nobody else, is the author of Andromeda! And I, for one, absolutely decline to believe in this preposterous story of his about a bull-dog.
Spurr. But your ladyship must have known! Why, you as good as asked me on the way here to put you down for a bull-pup!