Lyre and Lancet Part 29

_Undersh.e.l.l._ It is refres.h.i.+ng to be so thoroughly understood! I think I know what your "but still" implies--why did I not foresee that he would infallibly betray himself before long? I _did_. But I gave him credit for being able to sustain his part for another hour or two--until I had gone, in fact.

_Lady Maisie._ Then you didn't wish to spare _his_ feelings as well as ours?

_Undersh.e.l.l._ To be quite frank, I didn't trouble myself about him: my sole object was to retreat with dignity; he had got himself somehow or other into a false position he must get out of as best he could. After all, he would be none the worse for having filled _my_ place for a few hours.

_Lady Maisie_ (_slowly_). I see. It didn't matter to you whether he was suspected of being an impostor, or made to feel uncomfortable, or--or anything. Wasn't that a little unfeeling of you?

_Undersh.e.l.l._ Unfeeling! I allowed him to keep my evening clothes, which is more than a good many----

_Lady Maisie._ At all events, he may have had to pay more heavily than you imagine. I wonder whether---- But I suppose anything so unromantic as the love affairs of a veterinary surgeon would have no interest for you?

_Undersh.e.l.l._ Why not, Lady Maisie? To the Student of Humanity, and still more to the Poet, the humblest love-story may have its interesting--even its suggestive--aspect.

_Lady Maisie._ Well, I may tell you that it seems Mr. Spurrell has long been attached, if not actually engaged, to a maid of mine.

_Undersh.e.l.l_ (_startled out of his self-possession_). You--you don't mean to Miss Phillipson?

_Lady Maisie._ That _is_ her name. How very odd that you---- But perhaps Mr. Spurrell mentioned it to you last night?

_Undersh.e.l.l_ (_recovering his sangfroid_). I am hardly likely to have heard of it from any other quarter.

_Lady Maisie._ Of course not. And did he tell you that she was here, in this very house?

_Undersh.e.l.l._ No, he never mentioned _that_. What a remarkable coincidence!

_Lady Maisie._ Yes, rather. The worst of it is that the foolish girl seems to have heard that he was a guest here, and have jumped to the conclusion that he had ceased to care for her; so she revenged herself by a desperate flirtation with some worthless wretch she met in the housekeeper's room, whose flattery and admiration, I'm very much afraid, have completely turned her head!

_Undersh.e.l.l_ (_uncomfortably_). Ah, well, she must learn to forget him, and no doubt, in time---- How wonderful the pale sunlight is on that yew hedge!

_Lady Maisie._ You are not very sympathetic! I should not have told you at all, only I wanted to show you that if poor Mr. Spurrell _did_ innocently usurp your place, he may have lost---- But I see all this only bores you.

_Undersh.e.l.l._ Candidly, Lady Maisie, I can't affect a very keen interest in the--er--gossip of the housekeeper's room. Indeed, I am rather surprised that _you_ should condescend to listen to----

_Lady Maisie_ (_to herself_). This is really _too_ much! (_Aloud._) It never occurred to me that I was "condescending" in taking an interest in a pretty and wayward girl who happens to be my maid. But then, I'm not a Democrat, Mr. Blair.

_Undersh.e.l.l._ I--I'm afraid you construed my remark as a rebuke; which it was not at all intended to be.

_Lady Maisie._ It would have been rather superfluous if it had been, wouldn't it? (_Observing his growing uneasiness._) I'm afraid you don't find this bench quite comfortable?

_Undersh.e.l.l._ I--er--moderately so. (_To himself._) There's a female figure coming down the terrace steps. It's horribly like---- But that must be my morbid fancy; still, if I can get Lady Maisie away, just in case---- (_Aloud._) D--don't you think sitting still becomes a little--er--monotonous after a time? Couldn't we----

[_He rises, spasmodically._

_Lady Maisie_ (_rising too_). Certainly; we have sat here quite long enough. It is time we went back.

_Undersh.e.l.l_ (_to himself_). We shall meet her! and I'm almost sure it's---- I _must_ prevent any---- (_Aloud._) Not _back_, Lady Maisie!

You--you promised to show me the orchid-house--you did, indeed!

_Lady Maisie._ Very well; we can go in, if you care about orchids.

It's on our way back.

_Undersh.e.l.l_ (_to himself_). This is too awful! It _is_ that girl Phillipson. She is looking for somebody! Me! (_Aloud._) On second thoughts, I don't think I _do_ care to see the orchids. I detest them; they are such weird, unnatural, extravagant things. Let us turn back and see if there are any snowdrops on the lawn behind that hedge. I love the snowdrop, it is so trustful and innocent, with its pure green-veined---- _Do_ come and search for snowdrops!

[Ill.u.s.tration: "DO COME AND SEARCH FOR SNOWDROPS!"]

_Lady Maisie._ Not just now. I think--(_as she s.h.i.+elds her eyes with one hand_)--I'm not quite sure yet--but I rather fancy that must be my maid at the other end of the walk.

_Undersh.e.l.l_ (_eagerly_). _I_ a.s.sure you, Lady Maisie, you are quite mistaken. Not the _least_ like her!

_Lady Maisie_ (_astonished_). Why, how can you possibly tell that, without having seen her, Mr. Blair?

_Undersh.e.l.l._ I--I meant---- You described her as "pretty," you know.

This girl is plain--distinctly plain!

_Lady Maisie._ I don't agree at all. However, it certainly is Phillipson, and she seems to have come out in search of me; so I had better see if she has any message.

_Undersh.e.l.l._ She hasn't. I'm _positive_ she hasn't. She--she wouldn't walk like _that_ if she had. (_In feverish anxiety._) Lady Maisie, shall we turn back? She--she hasn't seen us _yet_!

_Lady Maisie._ Really, Mr. Blair! I don't quite see why I should run away from my own maid!... What is it, Phillipson?

[_She advances to meet_ PHILLIPSON, _leaving_ UNDERSh.e.l.l _behind, motionless_.

_Undersh.e.l.l_ (_to himself_). It's all over! That confounded girl recognises me. I saw her face change! She'll be jealous, I _know_ she'll be jealous--and then she'll tell Lady Maisie everything!... I wish to Heaven I could hear what she is saying. Lady Maisie seems agitated.... I--I might stroll gently on and leave them; but it would look too like running away, perhaps. No, I'll stay here and face it out like a man! I won't give up just yet. (_He sinks limply upon the bench._) After all, I've been in worse holes than this since I came into this infernal place, and I've always managed to scramble out--triumphantly too! If she will only give me five minutes alone, I _know_ I can clear myself; it isn't as if I had done anything to be _ashamed_ of.... She's sent away that girl. She seems to be expecting me to come to her.... I--I suppose I'd better.

[_He rises with effort, and goes towards_ Lady MAISIE _with a jaunty unconsciousness that somehow has the air of stopping short just above the knees_.

PART XXIII

SHRINKAGE

_In the Yew Walk._

_Lady Maisie_ (_to herself, as she watches_ UNDERSh.e.l.l _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----

_Undersh.e.l.l_ (_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?

_Undersh.e.l.l._ 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----