CANTELUPE. Cyril, this is tragic.

HORSHAM. [_More to himself than in answer._] Yes . . most annoying.

CANTELUPE. Lucifer, son of the morning! Why is it always the highest who fall?

HORSHAM _shies fastidiously at this touch of poetry_.

HORSHAM. No, my dear Charles, let us above all things keep our mental balance. Trebell is a most capable fellow. I'd set my heart on having him with me . . he'll be most awkward to deal with in opposition. But we shall survive his loss and so would the country.

CANTELUPE. [_Desperately._] Cyril, promise me there shall be no compromise over this measure.

HORSHAM. [_Charmingly candid._] No . . no unnecessary compromise, I promise you.

CANTELUPE. [_With a sigh._] If we had done what we have done to-night in the right spirit! Blackborough was almost vindictive.

HORSHAM. [_Smiling without amus.e.m.e.nt._] Didn't you keep thinking . . I did . . of that affair of his with Mrs. Parkington . . years ago?

CANTELUPE. There was never any proof of it.

HORSHAM. No . . he bought off the husband.

CANTELUPE. [_Uneasily._] His objections to Trebell were--political.

HORSHAM. Yours weren't.

CANTELUPE. [_More uneasily still._] I withdrew mine.

HORSHAM. [_With elderly reproof._] I don't think, Charles, you have the least conception of what a nicely balanced machine a cabinet is.

CANTELUPE. [_Imploring comfort._] But should we have held together through Trebell's bill?

HORSHAM. [_A little impatient._] Perhaps not. But once I had them all round a table . . Trebell is very keen on office for all his independent airs . . he and Percival could have argued the thing out. However, it's too late now.

CANTELUPE. Is it?

_For a moment_ HORSHAM _is tempted to indulge in the luxury of changing his mind; but he puts Satan behind him with a shake of the head_.

HORSHAM. Well, you see . . Percival I can't do without. Now that Blackborough knows of his objections to the finance he'd go to him and take Chisholm and offer to back them up. I know he would . . he didn't take Farrant away with him for nothing. [_Then he flashes out rather shrilly._] It's Trebell's own fault. He ought not to have committed himself definitely to any scheme until he was safely in office. I warned him about Percival . . I warned him not to be explicit. One cannot work with men who will make up their minds prematurely. No, I shall not change my mind. I shall write to him.

_He goes firmly to his writing desk leaving_ CANTELUPE _forlorn_.

CANTELUPE. What about a messenger?

HORSHAM. Not at this time of night. I'll post it.

CANTELUPE. I'll post it as I go.

_He seeks comfort again in the piano and this time starts to play, with one finger and some hesitation, the first bars of a Bach fugue._ HORSHAM'S _pen-nib is disappointing him and the letter is not easy to phrase_.

HORSHAM. But I hate coming to immediate decisions. The administrative part of my brain always tires after half an hour. Does yours, Charles?

CANTELUPE. What do you think Trebell will do now?

HORSHAM. [_A little grimly._] Punish us all he can.

_On reaching the second voice in the fugue_ CANTELUPE'S _virtuosity breaks down_.

CANTELUPE. All that ability turned to destructiveness . . what a pity!

That's the paradox of human activities . .

_Suddenly_ HORSHAM _looks up and his face is lighted with a seraphic smile_.

HORSHAM. Charles . . I wish we could do without Blackborough.

CANTELUPE. [_Struck with the idea._] Well . . why not?

HORSHAM. Yes . . I must think about it. [_They both get up, cheered considerably._] You won't forget this, will you?

CANTELUPE. [_The letter in_ HORSHAM'S _hand accusing him_.] No . . no. I don't think I have been the cause of your dropping Trebell, have I?

HORSHAM, _rid of the letter, is rid of responsibility and his charming equable self again. He comforts his cousin paternally._

HORSHAM. I don't think so. The split would have come when Blackborough checkmated my forming a cabinet. It would have pleased him to do that . .

and he could have, over Trebell. But now that question's out of the way . . you won't get such a bad measure with Trebell in opposition.

He'll frighten us into keeping it up to the mark, so to speak.

CANTELUPE. [_A little comforted._] But I shall miss one or two of those ideas . .

HORSHAM. [_So pleasantly sceptical._] Do you think they'd have outlasted the second reading? Dullness in the country one expects. Dullness in the House one can cope with. But do you know, I have never sat in a cabinet yet that didn't greet anything like a new idea in chilling silence.

CANTELUPE. Well, I should regret to have caused you trouble, Cyril.

HORSHAM. [_His hand on the other's shoulder._] Oh . . we don't take politics so much to heart as that, I hope.

CANTELUPE. [_With sweet gravity._] I take politics very much to heart.

Yes, I know what you mean . . but that's the sort of remark that makes people call you cynical. [HORSHAM _smiles as if at a compliment and starts with_ CANTELUPE _towards the door_. CANTELUPE, _who would not hurt his feelings, changes the subject_.] By the bye, I'm glad we met this evening! Do you hear Aunt Mary wants to sell the Burford Holbein?

Can she?

HORSHAM. [_Taking as keen, but no keener, an interest in this than in the difficulty he has just surmounted._] Yes, by the will she can, but she mustn't. Dear me, I thought I'd put a stop to that foolishness. Well now, we must take that matter up very seriously. . .

_They go out talking arm in arm._

THE FOURTH ACT