In the Yew Walk.

Lady Maisie (to herself, as she watches Undershell approaching). How badly he walks, and what does he mean by smiling at me like that? (Aloud, coldly.) I am sorry, Mr. Blair, but I must leave you to finish your stroll alone; my maid has just told me——

Undershell (vehemently). Lady Maisie, I ask you, in common fairness, not to judge me until you have heard my version. You will not allow the fact that I travelled down here in the same compartment with your maid, Phillipson——

Lady Maisie (wide-eyed). The same! But we came by that train. I thought you missed it?

Undershell. I—I was not so fortunate. It is rather a long and complicated story, but——

Lady Maisie. I'm afraid I really can't listen to you now, Mr. Blair, after what I have heard from Phillipson——

Undershell. I implore you not to go without hearing both sides. Sit down again—if only for a minute. I feel confident that I can explain everything satisfactorily.

Lady Maisie (sitting down). I can't imagine what there is to explain—and really I ought, if Phillipson——

Undershell. You know what maids are, Lady Maisie. They embroider. Unintentionally, I dare say, but still, they do embroider.

Lady Maisie (puzzled). She is very clever at mending lace, I know, though what that has to do with it——

Undershell. Listen to me, Lady Maisie. I came to this house at your bidding. Yes, but for your written appeal, I should have treated the invitation I received from your aunt with silent contempt. Had I obeyed my first impulse and ignored it, I should have been spared humiliations and indignities which ought rather to excite your pity than—than any other sensation. Think—try to realise what my feelings must have been when I found myself expected by the butler here to sit down to supper with him and the upper servants in the housekeeper's room!

Lady Maisie (shocked). Oh, Mr. Blair! Indeed, I had no—— You weren't really! How could they? What did you say?

Undershell (haughtily). I believe I let him know my opinion of the snobbery of his employers in treating a guest of theirs so cavalierly.

Lady Maisie (distressed). But surely—surely you couldn't suppose that my uncle and aunt were capable of——

Undershell. What else could I suppose, under the circumstances? It is true I have since learnt that I was mistaken in this particular instance; but I am not ignorant of the ingrained contempt you aristocrats have for all who live by exercising their intellect—the bitter scorn of birth for brains!

Lady Maisie. I am afraid the—the contempt is all on the other side; but if that is how you feel about it, I don't wonder that you were indignant.

Undershell. Indignant! I was furious. In fact, nothing would have induced me to sit down to supper at all, if it hadn't been for——

Lady Maisie (in a small voice). Then—you did sit down? With the servants! Oh, Mr. Blair!

Undershell. I thought you were already aware of it. Yes, Lady Maisie, I endured even that. But (with magnanimity) you must not distress yourself about it now. If I can forget it, surely you can do so!

Lady Maisie. Can I? That you should have consented, for any consideration whatever; how could you—how could you?

Undershell (to himself). She admires me all the more for it. But I knew she would take the right view! (Aloud, with pathos.) I was only compelled by absolute starvation. I had had an unusually light lunch, and I was so hungry!

Lady Maisie (after a pause). That explains it, of course.... I hope they gave you a good supper!

Undershell. Excellent, thank you. Indeed, I was astonished at the variety and even luxury of the table. There was a pyramid of quails——

Lady Maisie. I am pleased to hear it. But I thought there was something you were going to explain.

Undershell. I have been endeavouring to explain to the best of my ability that if I have undesignedly been the cause of—er—a temporary diversion in the state of Miss Phillipson's affections, no one could regret more deeply than I that the—er—ordinary amenities of the supper-table should have been mistaken for——

Lady Maisie (horrified). Oh, stop, Mr. Blair, please stop! I don't want to hear any more. I see now. It was you who——

Undershell. Of course it was I. Surely the girl herself has been telling you so just now!

Lady Maisie. You really thought that possible, too? She simply came with a message from my mother.

Undershell (slightly disconcerted). Oh! If I had known it was merely that. However, I am sure I need not ask you to treat my—my communication in the strictest confidence, Lady Maisie.

Lady Maisie. Indeed, that is perfectly unnecessary, Mr. Blair.

Undershell. Yes, I felt from the first that I could trust you—even with my life. And I cannot regret having told you, if it has enabled you to understand me more thoroughly. It is such a relief that you know all, and that there are no more secrets between us. You do feel that I only acted as was natural and inevitable under the circumstances?

Lady Maisie. Oh yes, yes. I—I dare say you could not help it. I mean you did quite, quite right!

Undershell. Ah, how you comfort me with your fresh girlish—— You are not going, Lady Maisie?

Lady Maisie (rising). I must. I ought to have gone before. My mother wants me. No, you are not to come too; you can go on and gather those snowdrops, you know.

[She walks slowly back to the house.

Undershell (looking after her). She took it wonderfully well. I've made it all right, or she wouldn't have said that about the snowdrops. Yes, she shall not be disappointed; she shall have her posy!

In the Morning-room. Half an hour later.

Lady Maisie (alone—to herself). Thank goodness, that's over! It was awful. I don't think I ever saw mamma a deeper shade of plum colour! How I have been mistaken in Mr. Blair! That he could write those lines—

and yet philander with my poor foolish Phillipson the moment he met her! And then to tell mamma about my letter like that! Why, even Mr. Spurrell had more discretion—to be sure, he knew nothing about it—but that makes no difference! Rhoda was right; I ought to have allowed a margin—only I should never have allowed margin enough! The worst of it is that, if mamma was unjust in some things she said, she was right about one. I have disgusted Gerald. He mayn't be brilliant, but at least he's straightforward and loyal and a gentleman, and—and he did like me once. He doesn't any more—or he wouldn't have gone away. And it may be ages before I ever get a chance to let him see how dreadfully sorry—— (She turns, and sees Captain Thicknesse.) Oh, haven't you gone yet?

Captain Thicknesse. Yes, I went, but I've come back again. I—I couldn't help it; 'pon my word I couldn't.

Lady Maisie (with a sudden flush). You—you weren't sent for—by—by any one?

Captain Thicknesse. So likely any one would send for me, isn't it?

Lady Maisie. I don't know why I said that; it was silly, of course. But how——

Captain Thicknesse. Ran it a bit too fine; got to Shuntin'bridge just in time to see the tail end of the train disappearin'; wasn't another for hours—not much to do there, don't you know.

Lady Maisie. You might have taken a walk—or gone to church.

Captain Thicknesse. So I might, didn't occur to me; and besides, I—I remembered I never said good-bye to you.

Lady Maisie. Didn't you? And whose fault was that?

Captain Thicknesse. Not mine, anyhow. You were somewhere about the grounds with Mr. Blair.

Lady Maisie. Now you mention it, I believe I was. We had—rather an interesting conversation. Still, you might have come to look for me!

Captain Thicknesse. Perhaps you wouldn't have been over and above glad to see me.

Lady Maisie. Oh yes, I should!—When it was to say good-bye, you know!

Captain Thicknesse. Ah! Well, I suppose I shall only be in the way if I stop here any longer now.

Lady Maisie. Do you? What makes you suppose that?

Captain Thicknesse. Nothin'! Saw your friend the bard hurryin' along the terrace with a bunch of snowdrops; he'll be here in another——

Lady Maisie (in unmistakable horror). Gerald, why didn't you tell me before? There's only just time!

[She flies to a door and opens it.

Captain Thicknesse. But I say, you know! Maisie, may I come too?

Lady Maisie. Don't be a goose, Gerald. Of course you can, if you like.

[She disappears in the conservatory.

Captain Thicknesse (to himself). Can't quite make this out, but I'm no end glad I came back!

[He follows quickly.

Undershell (entering). I hoped I should find her here. (He looks round.) Her mother's gone—that's something! I dare say Lady Maisie will come in presently. (He sits down and re-arranges his snowdrops.) It will be sweet to see her face light up when I offer her these as a symbol of the new and closer link between us! (He hears the sound of drapery behind him.) Ah, already! (Rising, and presenting his flowers with downcast eyes.) I—I have ventured to gather these—for you. (He raises his eyes.) Miss Spelwane!

Miss Spelwane (taking them graciously). How very sweet of you, Mr. Blair. Are they really for me?

Undershell (concealing his disappointment). Oh—er—yes. If you will give me the pleasure of accepting them.

Miss Spelwane. I feel immensely proud. I was so afraid you must have thought I was rather cross to you last night. I didn't mean to be. I was feeling a little overdone, that was all. But you have chosen a charming way of letting me see that I am forgiven. (To herself.) It's really too touching. He certainly is a great improvement on the other wretch!

Undershell (dolefully). I—I had no such intention, I assure you. (To himself.) I hope to goodness Lady Maisie won't come in before I can get rid of this girl. I seem fated to be misunderstood here!