PART X

BORROWED PLUMES

_In_ UNDERSHELL'S _Bedroom in the East Wing at Wyvern_. TIME--_About_ 9 P.M.

_The Steward's Room Boy_ (_knocking and entering_). Brought you up some 'ot water, sir, case you'd like to clean up afore supper.

_Undershell._ I presume evening dress is not indispensable in the housekeeper's room; but I can hardly make even the simplest toilet until you are good enough to bring up my portmanteau. Where is it?

_Boy._ I never 'eard nothink of no porkmanteau, sir!

_Undershell._ You will hear a good deal about it, unless it is forthcoming at once. Just find out what's become of it--a new portmanteau, with a white star painted on it.

[_The Boy retires, impressed. An interval._

_Boy_ (_reappearing_). I managed to get a few words with Thomas, our second footman, just as he was coming out o' the 'all, and _he_ sez the only porkmanteau with a white star was took up to the Verney Chamber, which Thomas unpacked it hisself.

_Undershell._ Then tell Thomas, with my compliments, that he will trouble himself to pack it again immediately.

_Boy._ But Thomas has to wait at table, and besides, he says as he laid out the dress things, and the gen'lman as is in the Verney Chamber is a wearin' of 'em now, sir.

_Undershell_ (_indignant_). But they're _mine_! Confound his impudence! Here, I'll write him a line at once. (_He scribbles a note._) There, see that the gentleman of the Verney Chamber gets this at once, and bring me his answer.

_Boy._ What! _me_ go into the dinin'-'all, with all the swells at table? I dursn't. I should get the sack from old Treddy.

_Undershell._ I don't care who takes it so long as it _is_ taken. Tell Thomas it's _his_ mistake, and he must do what he can to put it right. Say I shall certainly complain if I don't get back my clothes and portmanteau. Get that note delivered somehow, and I'll give you half-a-crown. (_To himself, as the_ Boy _departs, much against his will._) If Lady Culverin doesn't consider me fit to appear at her dinner-table, I don't see why my evening clothes should be more privileged!

_In the Dining-hall. The table is oval_; SPURRELL _is placed between_ Lady RHODA COKAYNE _and_ Mrs. BROOKE-CHATTERIS.

_Mrs. Chatteris_ (_encouragingly, after they are seated_). Now, I shall expect you to be very brilliant and entertaining. _I_'ll do all the listening for once in a way--though, generally, I can talk about all manner of silly things with _anybody_!

_Spurrell_ (_extremely ill at ease_). Oh--er--I should say you were quite equal to _that_. But I really can't think of anything to talk _about_.

_Mrs. Chatteris._ That's a bad beginning. I always find the _menu_ cards such a good subject, when there's anything at all out of the common about them. If they're ornamented, you _can_ talk about them--though not for _very_ long at a time, don't you think?

_Spurrell_ (_miserably_). I can't say how long I could go on about _ornamented_ ones--but these are plain. (_To himself._) I can hear this waistcoat going already--and we're only at the soup!

_Mrs. Chatteris._ It _is_ a pity. Never mind; tell me about literary and artistic people. Do you know, I'm rather glad I'm not literary or artistic myself; it seems to make people so _queer-looking_, somehow. Oh, of course I didn't mean _you_ looked queer--but _generally_, you know. You've made quite a success with your _Andromeda_, haven't you? I only go by what I'm told--I don't read much myself. We women have so many really serious matters to attend to--arranging about dinners, and visits, and trying on frocks, and then rushing about from party to party. I so seldom get a quiet moment. Ah, I knew I wanted to ask you something. Did you ever know any one called Lady Grisoline?

_Spurrell._ Lady--er--Grisoline? No; can't say I do. I know Lady Maisie, that's all.

_Mrs. Chatteris._ Oh, and _she_ was the original? Now, that _is_ exciting! But I should hardly have recognised her--"lanky," you know, and "slanting green eyes." But I suppose you see everybody differently from other people? It's having so much imagination. I dare say _I_ look green or something to you now--though really I'm _not_.

_Spurrell_ (_to himself_). I don't understand more than about half she's saying. (_Aloud._) Oh, I don't see anything particularly green about _you_.

_Mrs. Chatteris_ (_only partially pleased_). I wonder if you meant that to be complimentary--no, you needn't explain. Now, tell me, is there any news about the Laureateship? Who's going to get it? Will it be Swinburne or Lewis Morris?

_Spurrell_ (_to himself_). Never heard of the stakes or the horses either. (_Aloud._) Well, to tell you the truth, I haven't been following their form--too many of these small events nowadays.

_Mrs. Chatteris_ (_to herself_). It's quite amusing how jealous these poets are of one another! (_Aloud._) Is it true they get a butt of sherry given them for it?

_Spurrell._ I've heard of winners getting a bottle or two of champagne in a bucket--not sherry. But a little stimulant won't hurt a crack when he comes in, provided it's not given him too soon; wait till he's got his wind and done blowing, you know.

_Mrs. Chatteris._ I'm taking that in. I know it's very witty and satirical, and I dare say I shall understand it in time.

_Spurrell._ Oh, it doesn't matter much if you don't. (_To himself._) Pleasant kind of woman--but a perfect fool to talk to!

_Mrs. Chatteris_ (_to herself_). I've always _heard_ that clever writers are rather stupid when you meet them--it's quite true.

_Captain Thicknesse_ (_to himself_). I should like her to see that I've got some imagination in me, though she _does_ think me such an ass. (_Aloud, to_ Lady MAISIE.) Jolly old hall this is, with the banners, and the gallery, and that--makes you fancy some of those old mediæval Johnnies in armour--knights, you know--comin' clankin' in and turnin' us all out.

_Lady Maisie_ (_to herself_). I do trust Mr. Spurrell isn't saying something too dreadful. I'm sure I heard my name just now. (_Aloud, absently, to_ Captain THICKNESSE.) No, did you _really_? How amusing it must have been!

_Captain Thicknesse_ (_aggrieved_). If you'd done me the honour of payin' any attention to what I was sayin', you'd have found out it _wasn't_ amusin'.

_Lady Maisie_ (_starting_). Oh, _wasn't_ it? I'm so sorry I missed it. I--I'm afraid I was thinking of something else. Do tell me again!

_Captain Thicknesse_, (_still hurt_). No, I won't inflict it on you--not worth repeatin'. And I should only be takin' off your attention from a fellow that _does_ know how to talk.

_Lady Maisie_ (_with a guiltiness which she tries to carry off under dignity_). I don't think I understand what you mean.

_Captain Thicknesse._ Well, I couldn't help hearin' what you said to your poet-friend before we went in about having to put up with partners; and it isn't what you may call flattering to a fellow's feelin's, being put up with.

_Lady Maisie_ (_hotly_). It--it was not intended for you. You entirely misunderstood!

_Captain Thicknesse._ Dare say I'm very dense; but, even to _my_ comprehension, it's plain enough that the reason why you weren't listenin' to me just now was that the poet had the luck to say somethin' that you found more interesting.

_Lady Maisie._ You are _quite_ wrong--it's too absurd; I never even met Mr. Spurrell in my life till this afternoon. If you really _must_ know, I heard him mention my name, and--and I wondered, naturally, what he could possibly be saying.

_Captain Thicknesse._ Somethin' very charmin', and poetical, and complimentary, I'm sure, and I'm makin' you lose it all. Apologise--shan't happen again.

_Lady Maisie._ Please be sensible, and let us talk of something else. Are you staying here long?

_Captain Thicknesse._ You will be gratified to hear I leave for Aldershot to-morrow. Meant to have gone to-day. Sorry I _didn't_ now.

_Lady Maisie._ I think it was a thousand pities you didn't, as you seem to have stayed on purpose to be as stupid and unkind as you possibly can.

[_She turns to her other neighbour_, Lord LULLINGTON.

_Mrs. Chatteris_ (_to_ Captain THICKNESSE, _who is on her other side_). Oh, Captain Thicknesse, what _do_ you think Mr. Spurrell has just told me? You remember those lines to Lady Grisoline that Mr. Pilliner made such fun of this morning? Well, they were meant for Lady Maisie! They're quite old friends, it seems. _So_ romantic! Wouldn't you like to know how they came to meet?

_Captain Thicknesse._ Can't say I'm particularly curious--no affair of mine, don't you know. (_To himself._) And she told me they'd never met before! Sooner I get back the better. Only in the way here.

_Lady Maisie_ (_turning to him_). Well, are you as determined to be as disagreeable as ever? Oh yes, I see you are!

_Captain Thicknesse._ I'm hurt, that's what it is, and I'm not clever at hiding my feelin's. Fact is, I've just been told somethin' that--well, it's no business of _mine_, only you _might_ have been a little more frank with an old friend, instead of leavin' it to come through somebody else. These things always come out, you know.

_Lady Maisie_ (_to herself_). That wretch _has_ been talking! I knew he would! (_Aloud._) I--I know I've been very foolish. If I was to tell you some time----

_Captain Thicknesse_ (_hastily_). Oh, no reason why you should tell me anything. Assure you, I--I'm not curious.

_Lady Maisie._ In that case I shall certainly not trouble you. (_To herself._) He may think just what he pleases, _I_ don't care. But, oh, if Mr. Spurrell dares to speak to me after this, I shall astonish him!

_Lady Rhoda_ (_to_ SPURRELL). I say--I _am_ in a funk. Only just heard who I'm next to. I always do feel such a perfect fool when I've got to talk to a famous person--and you're _frightfully_ famous, aren't you?

_Spurrell_ (_modestly_). Oh, I don't know--I suppose I _am_, in a sort of way, through _Andromeda_. Seem to think so _here_, anyhow.

_Lady Rhoda._ Well, I'd better tell you at once, I'm no good at poetry--can't make head or tail of it, some'ow. It does seem to me such--well, such footle. Awf'ly rude of me sayin' things like that!

_Spurrell._ Is it? I'm just the same--wouldn't give a penny a yard for poetry, myself!

_Lady Rhoda._ You wouldn't? I _am_ glad. _Such_ a let-off for me! I was afraid you'd want to talk of nothin' else, and the only things I can really talk about are horses and dogs, and that kind of thing.

_Spurrell._ That's all right, then. All I don't know about dogs and horses you could put in a homoeopathic globule--and _then_ it would rattle!

_Lady Rhoda._ Then you're just the man. Look here, I've an Airedale at home, and he's losin' all his coat and----

[_They converse with animation._

_Spurrell_ (_later--to himself_). I am getting on. I always knew I was made for Society. If only this coat was easier under the arms!

_Thomas_ (_behind him--in a discreet whisper_). Beg your pardon, sir, but I was requested to 'and you this note, and wait for an answer.

_Spurrell_ (_opening it, and reading_). "Mr. Galfrid Undershell thinks that the gentleman who is occupying the Verney Chamber has, doubtless by inadvertence, put on Mr. Undershell's evening clothes. As he requires them immediately, he will be obliged by an early appointment being made, with a view to their return." (_To himself._) Oh, Lor! Then it _wasn't_ Sir Rupert, after all! Just when I was beginning to enjoy my evening, too. What on earth am I to say to this chap? I _can't_ take 'em all off here!

[_He sits staring at the paper in blank dismay._