_Lady Cant._ (_closing her eyes_). I am in no condition to _argue_ about it, ALBINIA. The slightest exercise of your own common sense would have shown you----But there, no great harm has been done, fortunately, so let us say no more about it. I have something more agreeable to talk about. I've every reason to hope that MAISIE and dear GERALD THICKNESSE---- _Lady Culv._ (_astonished_). MAISIE? But I thought GERALD THICKNESSE spoke as if----! _Lady Cant._ Very possibly, my dear. I have always refrained from giving him any encouragement, and I wouldn't put any pressure upon dear MAISIE for the world--still, I have my feelings as a mother, and I can't deny that, with such prospects as he has now, it _is_ gratifying for me to think that they may be coming to an understanding together at this very moment; she is showing him the grounds; which I always think are the great charm of Wyvern, so _secluded_! _Lady Culv._ (_puzzled_). Together! At this very moment! But--but surely GERALD has _gone_? _Lady Cant._ Gone! What nonsense, ALBINIA! Where in the world should he have gone to? _Lady Culv._ He _was_ leaving by the 10.40, I know. For Aldershot. I ordered the cart for him, and he said good-bye after breakfast. He seemed so dreadfully down, poor fellow, that I quite fancied from what he said that MAISIE must have---- _Lady Cant._ Impossible, my dear, quite impossible! I tell you he is _here_. Why, only a few minutes ago, Mrs. CHATTERIS was telling me---- Ah, here she is to speak for herself. (_To_ Mrs. CHATTERIS, _who appears, arrayed for public service._) Mrs. CHATTERIS, did I, or did I _not_, understand you to say just now that my daughter MAISIE----? _Mrs. Chatt._ (_alarmed_). But, _dear_ Lady CANTIRE, I had no idea you would disapprove. Indeed you seemed----And really, though she certainly takes an interest in him, I'm sure--_almost_ sure--there can be nothing serious--at present. _Lady Cant._ Thank you, my dear, I merely wished for an answer to my question. And you see, ALBINIA, that GERALD THICKNESSE can hardly have gone yet, since he is walking about the grounds with MAISIE. _Mrs. Chatt._ Captain THICKNESSE? But he _has_ gone, Lady CANTIRE! I saw him start. I didn't mean _him_. _Lady Cant._ Indeed? then I shall be obliged if you will say who it is you _did_ mean. _Mrs. Chatt._ Why, only her old friend and admirer--that little poet man, Mr. BLAIR. _Lady Cant._ (_to herself_). And I actually _sent_ him to her! (_Rising in majestic wrath._) ALBINIA, whatever comes of this, remember I shall hold _you_ entirely responsible! [_She sweeps out of the room; the other two ladies look after her, and then at one another, in silent consternation._ [Illustration: "I'll be off, or they'll nail me for church!"] * * * * * THE WHIMS OF AMPHITRYON.