_Lady Culv. (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? _Spurr. (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 (coloured with mingled apprehension, vexation, and pity)._ If I can be of any help to you, Mr. SPURRELL----! _Spurr._ Well, if you'd only tell me what I ought to _do_! [Illustration: "My keys! Why, what do you want _them_ for?"] _Lady Maisie._ Surely that's very simple; do _nothing_; just take everything quietly as it comes, and you _can't_ make any mistakes. _Spurr. (anxiously)._ And you don't think anybody'll see anything odd 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! _Spurr._ 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! _Pill._ 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? _Miss Spelw._ 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!----