In a First-class Compartment.

Lady Maisie (to herself). Poets don't seem to have much self-possession. He seems perfectly overcome by hearing my name like that. If only he doesn't lose his head completely and say something about my wretched letter!

Spurrell (to himself). I'd better tell 'em before they find out for themselves. (Aloud; desperately.) My lady, I—I feel I ought to explain at once how I come to be going down to Wyvern like this.

[Lady Maisie only just suppresses a terrified protest.

Lady Cantire (benignly amused). My good sir, there's not the slightest necessity; I am perfectly aware of who you are, and everything about you!

Spurrell (incredulously). But really I don't see how your ladyship—— Why, I haven't said a word that——

Lady Cantire (with a solemn waggishness.) Celebrities who mean to preserve their incognito shouldn't allow their friends to see them off. I happened to hear a certain Andromeda mentioned, and that was quite enough for Me!

Spurrell (to himself, relieved). She knows; seen the sketch of me in the Dog Fancier, I expect; goes in for breeding bulls herself, very likely. Well, that's a load off my mind! (Aloud.) You don't say so, my lady. I'd no idea your ladyship would have any taste that way; most agreeable surprise to me, I can assure you!

Lady Cantire. I see no reason for surprise in the matter. I have always endeavoured to cultivate my taste in all directions; to keep in touch with every modern development. I make it a rule to read and see everything. Of course, I have no time to give more than a rapid glance at most things; but I hope some day to be able to have another look at your Andromeda. I hear the most glowing accounts from all the judges.

Spurrell (to himself). She knows all the judges! She must be in the fancy! (Aloud.) Any time your ladyship likes to name I shall be proud and happy to bring her round for your inspection.

Lady Cantire (with condescension). If you are kind enough to offer me a copy of Andromeda, I shall be most pleased to possess one.

Spurrell (to himself). Sharp old customer, this; trying to rush me for a pup. I never offered her one! (Aloud.) Well, as to that, my lady, I've promised so many already, that really I don't—but there—I'll see what I can do for you. I'll make a note of it; you mustn't mind having to wait a bit.

Lady Cantire (raising her eyebrows). I will make an effort to support existence in the meantime.

Lady Maisie (to herself). I couldn't have believed that the man who could write such lovely verses should be so—well, not exactly a gentleman! How petty of me to have such thoughts. Perhaps geniuses never are. And as if it mattered! And I'm sure he's very natural and simple, and I shall like him when I know him better.

[The train slackens.

Lady Cantire. What station is this? Oh, it is Shuntingbridge. (To Spurrell, as they get out.) Now, if you'll kindly take charge of these bags, and go and see whether there's anything from Wyvern to meet us—you will find us here when you come back.

On the Platform at Shuntingbridge.

Lady Cantire. Ah, there you are, Phillipson! Yes, you can take the jewel-case; and now you had better go and see after the trunks. (Phillipson hurries back to the luggage-van; Spurrell returns.) Well, Mr.—I always forget names, so I shall call you "Andromeda"—have you found out—— The omnibus, is it? Very well, take us to it, and we'll get in.

[They go outside.

Undershell (at another part of the platform—to himself). Where has Miss Mull disappeared to? Oh, there she is, pointing out her luggage. What a quantity she travels with! Can't be such a very poor relation. How graceful and collected she is, and how she orders the porters about! I really believe I shall enjoy this visit. (To a porter.) That's mine—the brown one with a white star. I want it to go to Wyvern Court—Sir Rupert Culverin's.

Porter (shouldering it). Right, sir. Follow me, if you please.

[He disappears with it.

Undershell (to himself). I mustn't leave Miss Mull alone. (Advancing to her.) Can I be of any assistance?

Phillipson. It's all done now. But you might try and find out how we're to get to the Court.

[Undershell departs; is requested to produce his ticket, and spends several minutes in searching every pocket but the right one.

In the Station Yard at Shuntingbridge.

Lady Cantire (from the interior of the Wyvern omnibus, testily, to Footman). What are we waiting for now? Is my maid coming with us—or how?

Footman. There's a fly ordered to take her, my lady.

Lady Cantire (to Spurrell, who is standing below). Then it's you who are keeping us!

Spurrell. If your ladyship will excuse me. I'll just go and see if they've put out my bag.

Lady Cantire (impatiently). Never mind about your bag. (To Footman.) What have you done with this gentleman's luggage?

Footman. Everything for the Court is on top now, my lady.

[He opens the door for Spurrell.

Lady Cantire (to Spurrell, who is still irresolute). For goodness' sake don't hop about on that step! Come in, and let us start.

Lady Maisie. Please get in—there's plenty of room!

Spurrell (to himself). They are chummy, and no mistake! (Aloud, as he gets in.) I do hope it won't be considered any intrusion—my coming up along with your ladyships, I mean!

Lady Cantire (snappishly). Intrusion! I never heard such nonsense! Did you expect to be asked to run behind? You really mustn't be so ridiculously modest. As if your Andromeda hadn't procured you the entrÉe everywhere!

[The omnibus starts.

Spurrell (to himself). Good old Drummy! No idea I was such a swell. I'll keep my tail up. Shyness ain't one of my failings. (Aloud, to an indistinct mass at the further end of the omnibus, which is unlighted.) Er—hum—pitch dark night, my lady, don't get much idea of the country! (The mass makes no response.) I was saying, my lady, it's too dark to—— (The mass snores peacefully.) Her ladyship seems to be taking a snooze on the quiet, my lady. (To Lady Maisie.) (To himself.) Not that that's the term for it!

Lady Maisie (distantly). My mother gets tired rather easily. (To herself.) It's really too dreadful; he makes me hot all over! If he's going to do this kind of thing at Wyvern! And I'm more or less responsible for him, too! I must see if I can't—— It will be only kind. (Aloud, nervously.) Mr.—Mr. Blair!

Spurrell. Excuse me, my lady, not Blair—Spurrell.

Lady Maisie. Of course, how stupid of me. I knew it wasn't really your name. Mr. Spurrell, then, you—you won't mind if I give you just one little hint, will you?

Spurrell. I shall take it kindly of your ladyship, whatever it is.

Lady Maisie (more nervously still). It's really such a trifle, but—but, in speaking to mamma or me, it isn't at all necessary to say "my lady" or "your ladyship." I—I mean, it sounds rather, well—formal, don't you know!

Spurrell (to himself). She's going to be chummy now! (Aloud.) I thought, on a first acquaintance, it was only manners.

Lady Maisie. Oh—manners? yes, I—I dare say—but still—but still—not at Wyvern, don't you know. If you like, you can call mamma "Lady Cantire," and me "Lady Maisie," now and then, and, of course, my aunt will be "Lady Culverin," but—but if there are other people staying in the house, you needn't call them anything, do you see?

Spurrell (to himself). I'm not likely to have the chance! (Aloud.) Well, if you're sure they won't mind it, because I'm not used to this sort of thing, so I put myself entirely in your hands,—for, of course, you know what brought me down here?

Lady Maisie (to herself). He means my foolish letter! Oh, I must put a stop to that at once! (In a hurried undertone.) Yes—yes; I—I think I do I mean, I do know—but—but please forget it—indeed, you must!

Spurrell (to himself). Forget I've come down as a vet? The Culverins will take care I don't forget that! (Aloud.) But, I say, it's all very well; but how can I? Why, look here; I was told I was to come down here on purpose to——

Lady Maisie (on thorns). I know—you needn't tell me! And don't speak so loud! Mamma might hear!

Spurrell (puzzled). What if she did? Why, I thought her la—your mother knew!

Lady Maisie (to herself). He actually thinks I should tell mamma! Oh, how dense he is! (Aloud.) Yes—yes—of course she knows—but—but you might wake her! And—and please don't allude to it again—to me or—or any one. (To herself.) That I should have to beg him to be silent like this! But what can I do? Goodness only knows what he mightn't say, if I don't warn him!

Spurrell (nettled). I don't mind who knows. I'm not ashamed of it, Lady Maisie—whatever you may be!

Lady Maisie (to herself, exasperated). He dares to imply that I've done something to be ashamed of! (Aloud, haughtily.) I'm not ashamed—why should I be? Only—oh, can't you really understand that—that one may do things which one wouldn't care to be reminded of publicly? I don't wish it—isn't that enough?

Spurrell (to himself). I see what she's at now—doesn't want it to come out that she's travelled down here with a vet! (Aloud, stiffly.) A lady's wish is enough for me at any time. If you're sorry for having gone out of your way to be friendly, why, I'm not the person to take advantage of it. I hope I know how to behave.

[He takes refuge in offended silence.

Lady Maisie (to herself). Why did I say anything at all! I've only made things worse—I've let him see that he has an advantage. And he's certain to use it sooner or later—unless I am civil to him. I've offended him now—and I shall have to make it up with him!

Spurrell (to himself). I thought all along she didn't seem as chummy as her mother—but to turn round on me like this!

Lady Cantire (waking up). Well, Mr. Andromeda, I should have thought you and my daughter might have found some subject in common; but I haven't heard a word from either of you since we left the station.

Lady Maisie (to herself). That's some comfort! (Aloud.) You must have had a nap, mamma. We—we have been talking.

Spurrell. Oh yes, we have been talking, I can assure you, Lady Cantire!

Lady Cantire. Dear me. Well, Maisie, I hope the conversation was entertaining?

Lady Maisie. M—most entertaining, mamma!

Lady Cantire. I'm quite sorry I missed it. (The omnibus stops.) Wyvern at last! But what a journey it's been, to be sure!

Spurrell (to himself). I should just think it had. I've never been so taken up and put down in all my life! But it's over now; and, thank goodness, I'm not likely to see any more of 'em!

[He gets out with alacrity.