_Capt. Thick._ (_with undisguised relief_). Oh, well, dessay they won't kick up much of a row if I don't get back till to-morrow,--or the day _after_, if it comes to that.
_Und._ (_to himself_). It _shan't_ come to that--if _I_ can prevent it! Lady MAISIE is quite in despair, I can see. (_Aloud._) Indeed? I was--a--not aware that discipline was quite so lax as that in the British Army. And surely officers should set an example of----
[_He finds that his intervention has produced a distinct sensation, and, taking up the discarded "Bradshaw," becomes engrossed in its study._
_Capt. Thick._ (_ignoring him completely_). It's like this, Lady CULVERIN. Somehow I--I muddled up the dates, don't you know. Mean to say, got it into my head to-day was the 20th, instead of only the 18th. (_Lamely._) That's how it _was_.
_Lady Culv._ Delightful, my dear GERALD. Then we shall keep you here till Tuesday, of _course!_
_Und._ (_looking up from "Bradshaw," impulsively_). Lady CULVERIN, I see there's a very good train which leaves Shuntingbridge at 3.15 this afternoon, and gets----
[_The rest regard him with unaffected surprise and disapproval._
_Lady Cant._ (_raising her glasses_). Upon my word, Mr. BLAIR! If you will kindly leave Captain THICKNESSE to make his own arrangements----!
_Lady Maisie_ (_interposing hastily_). But, Mamma, you must have misunderstood Mr. BLAIR! As if he would _dream_ of----. He was merely mentioning the train he wishes to go by himself. _Weren't_ you, Mr. BLAIR?
_Und._ (_blinking and gasping_). I--eh? Just so, that--that _was_ my intention, certainly. (_To himself._) Does she at all realise what this will cost her?
_Lady Culv._ My dear Mr. BLAIR, I--I'd no notion we were to lose you so soon; but if you're really quite _sure_ you must go----
_Lady Cant._ (_sharply_). Really, ALBINIA, we must give him credit for knowing his own mind. He tells you he is _obliged to go!_
_Lady Culv._ Then of course we must let you do _exactly_ as you please. (_All, except_ Miss SPELWANE, _breathe more freely_; TREDWELL _appears_.) Oh, lunch, is it, TREDWELL? Very well. By-the-bye, see that some one packs Mr. UNDERSHELL'S things for him, and tell them to send the dogcart round after lunch in time to catch the 3.15 from Shuntingbridge.