_Lady Culverin_ (_to herself_). He's soon _reassured_. (_Aloud, with a touch of frost._) I am sure we must consider ourselves most fortunate. (_Turning to the Countess._) You _did_ say cream, Rohesia? Sugar, Maisie dearest? _Spurrell_ (_to himself_). I'm all right up to now! I suppose I'd better say nothing about the horse till _they_ do. I feel rather out of it among these nobs, though. I'll try and chum on to little Lady Maisie again; she may have got over her temper by this time, and she's the only one I know. (_He approaches her._) Well, Lady Maisie, here I _am_, you see. I'd really no idea your aunt would be so friendly! I say, you know, you don't mind _speaking_ to a fellow, do you? I've no one else I can go to--and--and it's a bit strange at first, you know! _Lady Maisie_ (_colouring with mingled apprehension, vexation, and pity_). If I can be of any help to you, Mr. Spurrell----! _Spurrell._ Well, if you'd only tell me what I ought to _do_! _Lady Maisie._ Surely that's very simple; do _nothing_; just take everything quietly as it comes, and you _can't_ make any mistakes. _Spurrell_ (_anxiously_). And you don't think anybody'll see anything out of the way in my being here like this? _Lady Maisie_ (_to herself_). I'm only too afraid they _will_! (_Aloud._) You really _must_ have a little self-confidence. Just remember that no one here could produce anything a millionth part as splendid as your _Andromeda_! It's _too_ distressing to see you so _appallingly_ humble! (_To herself._) There's Captain Thicknesse over there--he _might_ come and rescue me; but he doesn't seem to care to! _Spurrell._ Well, you _do_ put some heart into me, Lady Maisie. I feel equal to the lot of 'em now! _Pilliner_ (_to_ Miss SPELWANE). Is _that_ the poet? Why, but I say--he's a _fraud_! Where's his matted head? He's not a bit ragged, or rusty either. And why don't he dabble? Don't seem to know what to do with his hands quite, though, _does_ he? _Miss Spelwane_ (_coldly_). He knows how to do some very exquisite poetry with _one_ of them, at all events. I've been reading it, and _I_ think it perfectly marvellous! _Pilliner._ I see what it is, you're preparing to turn his matted head for him? I warn you you'll only waste your sweetness. That pretty little Lady Maisie's annexed _him_. Can't you content yourself with _one_ victim at a time? _Miss Spelwane._ Don't be so utterly idiotic! (_To herself._) If Maisie imagines she's to be allowed to monopolise the only man in the room worth talking to!----