[_She rises and leaves the room; the other ladies follow her example._ _Lady Culverin._ Rupert, I'm going up now with Rohesia. You know where we've put Mr. Spurrell, don't you? The Verney Chamber. [_She goes out._ _Sir Rupert._ Take you up now, if you like, Mr. Spurrell--it's only just seven, though. Suppose you don't take an hour to dress, eh? _Spurrell._ Oh dear no, sir, nothing like it! (_To himself._) Won't take me two minutes as I am now! I'd better tell him--I can say my bag hasn't come. I don't believe it _has_, and, anyway, it's a good excuse. (_Aloud._) The--the fact is, Sir Rupert, I'm afraid that my luggage has been unfortunately left behind. _Sir Rupert._ No luggage, eh? Well, well, it's of no consequence. But I'll ask about it--I dare say it's all right. [_He goes out._ _Captain Thicknesse_ (_to_ SPURRELL). Sure to have turned up, you know--man will have seen that. Shouldn't altogether object to a glass of sherry and bitters before dinner. Don't know how _you_ feel--suppose you've a soul _above_ sherry and bitters, though? _Spurrell._ Not at this moment. But I'd soon _put_ my soul above a sherry and bitters if I got a chance! _Captain Thicknesse_ (_after reflection_). I say, you know, that's rather smart, eh? (_To himself._) Aw'fly clever sort of chap, this, but not stuck up--not half a bad sort, if he _is_ a bit of a bounder. (_Aloud._) Anythin' in the evenin' paper? Don't get 'em down here. [Illustration: "I SAY, YOU KNOW, THAT'S RATHER SMART, EH?"] _Spurrell._ Nothing much. I see there's an objection to Monkey-tricks. _Captain Thicknesse_ (_startled_). No, by Jove! Hope they'll overrule it--make a lot of difference to me if they don't. _Spurrell._ Don't fancy there's much in it. Your money's safe enough, I expect. Have you any particular fancy for the Grand National? I know something that's safe to win, bar accidents--a dead cert, sir! Got the tip straight from the stable. You just take my advice, and pile all you can on Jumping Joan. _Captain Thicknesse_ (_later, to himself, after a long and highly interesting conversation_). Thunderin' clever chap--never knew poets _were_ such clever chaps. Might be a "bookie," by Gad! No wonder Maisie thinks such a lot of him! [_He sighs._ _Sir Rupert_ (_returning_). Now, Mr. Spurrell, if you'll come upstairs with me, I'll show you your quarters. By the way, I've made inquiries about your luggage, and I think you'll find it's all right. (_As he leads the way up the staircase._) Rather awkward for you if you'd had to come down to dinner just as you are, eh? _Spurrell_ (_to himself_). Oh, lor, my beastly bag _has_ come after all! Now they'll _know_ I didn't bring a dress suit. What an owl I was to tell him! (_Aloud, feebly._) Oh--er--very awkward indeed, Sir Rupert!