[_He saunters out with restored complacency._
_In the Chinese Drawing-room at Wyvern._ TIME--7.50. Lady CULVERIN _is alone, glancing over a written list_.
_Lady Cantire_ (_entering_). Down already, Albinia? I _thought_ if I made haste I should get a quiet chat with you before anybody else came in. What is that paper? Oh, the list of couples for Rupert. May I see? (_As_ Lady CULVERIN _surrenders it_.) My dear, you're _not_ going to inflict that mincing little Pilliner boy on poor Maisie! That really _won't do_. At least let her have somebody she used to. Why not Captain Thicknesse? He's an old friend, and she's not seen him for months. I must alter that, if you've no objection. (_She does._) And then you've given my poor poet to that Spelwane girl! Now, _why_?
_Lady Culverin._ I thought she wouldn't mind putting up with him just for one evening.
_Lady Cantire._ Wouldn't _mind_! Putting up with him! And is that how you speak of a celebrity when you are so fortunate as to have one to entertain? _Really_, Albinia!
_Lady Culverin._ But, my dear Rohesia, you must allow that, whatever his talents may be, he is not--well, not _quite_ one of Us. Now, _is_ he?
_Lady Cantire_ (_blandly_). My dear, I never heard he had any connection with the manufacture of chemical manures, in which your worthy papa so greatly distinguished himself--if _that_ is what you mean.
_Lady Culverin_ (_with some increase of colour_). That is _not_ what I meant, Rohesia--as you know perfectly well. And I do say that this Mr. Spurrell's manner is most objectionable; when he's not obsequious, he's horribly familiar!
_Lady Cantire_ (_sharply_). I have not observed it. He strikes me as well enough--for that class of person. And it is intellect, soul, all that kind of thing that _I_ value. I look _below_ the surface, and I find a great deal that is very original and charming in this young man. And surely, my dear, if I find myself able to associate with him, _you_ need not be so fastidious! I consider him my _protégé_, and I won't have him slighted. He is far too good for Vivien Spelwane!
_Lady Culverin_ (_with just a suspicion of malice_). Perhaps, Rohesia, you would like him to take _you_ in?
_Lady Cantire._ That, of course, is quite out of the question. I see you have given me the Bishop--he's a poor, dry stick of a man--never forgets he was the Headmaster of Swisham--but he's always glad to meet _me_. I freshen him up so.