_Spurrell_ (_to himself, during_ Miss SPELWANE'S _song_). Wonder what's put them off being read to all of a sudden? My elocution mayn't be first-class, exactly, but still---- (_As his eye happens to rest on the binding of the volume on his knee._) Hullo! This cover's pink, with silver things, not unlike cutlets, on it! Didn't Emma ask me----? By George, if it's _that_! I may get down to the housekeeper's room, after all! As soon as ever this squalling stops I'll find out; I _can't_ go on like this! (Miss SPELWANE _leaves the piano; everybody plunges feverishly into conversation on the first subject--other than poetry or dogs--that presents itself, until_ Lord _and_ Lady LULLINGTON _set a welcome example of departure_.) Better wait till these county nobs have cleared, I suppose--there goes the last of 'em--now for it!... (_He pulls himself together, and approaches his host and hostess._) Hem, Sir Rupert, and your ladyship, it's occurred to me that it's just barely possible you may have got it in your heads that I was something in the _poetical_ way. _Sir Rupert_ (_to himself_). Not this poor young chap's fault; must let him down as easily as possible! (_Aloud._) Not at all--not at all! Ha--assure you we quite understand; no necessity to say another word about it. _Spurrell_ (_to himself_). Just my luck! They quite understand! No housekeeper's room for me this journey! (_Aloud._) Of course I knew the Countess, there, and Lady Maisie, were fully aware all along---- (_To_ Lady MAISIE, _as stifled exclamations reach his ear_.) You _were_, weren't you? _Lady Maisie_ (_hastily_). Yes, yes, Mr. Spurrell. Of course! It's all _perfectly_ right! _Spurrell_ (_to the others_). You see, I should never have thought of coming in as a visitor if it hadn't been for the Countess; she would _have_ it that it was all right, and that I needn't be afraid I shouldn't be welcome. _Lady Culverin._ To be sure--any friend of my sister-in-law's---- _Lady Cantire._ Albinia, I have refrained from speech as long as possible; but this is really _too_ much! You _don't_ suppose I should have introduced Mr. Spurrell here unless I had had the strongest reasons for knowing, however he may be pleased to mystify us now, that he, and nobody else, is the author of _Andromeda_! And I, for one, absolutely decline to believe in this preposterous story of his about a bull-dog. _Spurrell._ But your ladyship must have known! Why, you as good as asked me on the way here to put you down for a bull-pup! _Lady Cantire._ Never, never! A bull-pup is the last creature I should ever dream of coveting. You were obliging enough to ask me to accept a presentation copy of your verses. _Spurrell._ Was I? I don't exactly see how I _could_ have been, considering I never made a rhyme in my life! _Sir Rupert._ There, there, Rohesia, it was _your_ mistake; but as we are indebted to it for the pleasure of making Mr. Spurrell's acquaintance----