_Phillipson._ Her ladyship is pretty generous with them to most people, Mr. Tredwell. I'm sure I'd have left her long ago, if it wasn't for Lady Maisie--who _is_ a lady, if you like! _Tredwell._ She don't favour her ma, I will say _that_ for her. By the way, who is the party they brought down with them? a youngish looking chap--seemed a bit out of his helement, when he first come in, though he's soon got over that, judging by the way him and your Lady Rhoda, Miss Dolman, was 'obnobbing together at table! _Phillipson._ Nobody came down with _my_ ladies; they must have met him in the bus, I expect. What is his name? _Tredwell._ Why, he give it to me, I know, when I enounced him; but it's gone clean out of my head again. He's got the Verney Chamber, I know _that_ much; but what _was_ his name again? I shall forget my own next. _Undershell_ (_involuntarily_). In the Verney Chamber? Then the name must be Spurrell! _Phillipson_ (_starting_). Spurrell! Why, _I_ used to---- But of course it can't be _him_! _Tredwell._ Spurrell _was_ the name, though. (_With a resentful glare at_ UNDERSHELL.) I don't know how _you_ came to be aware of it, sir! _Undershell._ Why, the fact is, I happened to find out that--(_here he receives an admonitory drive in the back from the_ Boy)--that his name _was_ Spurrell. (_To himself._) I wish this infernal boy wouldn't be officious--but perhaps he's right! _Tredwell._ Ho, indeed! Well, _another_ time, Mr. Hundershell, if you require information about parties staying with _us_, p'raps you'll be good enough to apply to me pussonally, instead of picking it up in some 'ole-and-corner fashion. (UNDERSHELL _controls his indignation with difficulty_.) To return to the individual in question, Miss Phillipson, I should have said myself he was something in the artistic or littery way; he suttingly didn't give me the impression of being a gentleman. [Illustration: "HE SUTTINGLY DIDN'T GIVE ME THE IMPRESSION OF BEING A GENTLEMAN."] _Phillipson_ (_to herself, relieved_). Then it _isn't_ my Jem! I might have known he wouldn't be visiting here, and carrying on with Lady Rhodas. He'd never forget himself like that--if he _has_ forgotten me! _Steptoe._ It strikes me he's more of a sporting character, Tredwell. I know when I was circulating with the cigarettes and so on, in the hall just now, he was telling the Captain some anecdote about an old steeplechaser that was faked up to win a selling handicap, and it tickled me to that extent I could hardly hold the spirit-lamp steady. _Tredwell._ I may be mistook, Steptoe. All _I_ can say is, that when me and James was serving cawfy to the ladies in the drawing-room, some of them had got 'old of a little pink book all sprinkled over with silver cutlets, and, rightly _or_ wrongly, I took it to 'ave some connection with 'im. _Undershell_ (_excitedly_). Pink and silver! Might I ask--was it a volume of poetry, called--er--_Andromeda_?