MRS. FARRANT. [_With still more finesse._] I had my reasons. Votes aren't everything.

LADY DAVENPORT _has been listening with rather a doubtful smile; she now caps the discussion._

LADY DAVENPORT. I'm relieved to hear you say so, my dear Julia. On the other hand democracy seems to have brought itself to a pretty pa.s.s. Here's a measure, which the country as a whole neither demands nor approves of, will certainly be carried, you tell me, because a minority on each side is determined it shall be ... for totally different reasons.

MRS. FARRANT. [_Shrugging again._] It isn't our business to prevent popular government looking foolish, Mamma.

LADY DAVENPORT. Is that Tory cynicism or feminine?

_At this moment_ GEORGE FARRANT _comes through the window; a good natured man of forty-five. He would tell you that he was educated at Eton and Oxford. But the knowledge which saves his life comes from the thrusting upon him of authority and experience; ranging from the management of an estate which he inherited at twenty-four, through the chairmanship of a newspaper syndicate, through a successful marriage, to a minor post in the last Tory cabinet and the prospect of one in the near-coming next. Thanks to his agents, editors, permanent officials, and his own common sense, he always acquits himself creditably. He comes to his wife's side and waits for a pause in the conversation._

LADY DAVENPORT. I remember Mr. Disraeli once said to me ... Clever women are as dangerous to the State as dynamite.

FRANCES TREBELL. [_Not to be impressed by Disraeli._] Well, Lady Davenport, if men will leave our intellects lying loose about....

FARRANT. Blackborough's going, Julia.

MRS. FARRANT. Yes, George.

LADY DAVENPORT. [_Concluding her little apologue to_ MISS TREBELL.] Yes, my dear, but power without responsibility isn't good for the character that wields it either.

[_There follows_ FARRANT _through the window a man of fifty. He has about him that unmistakeable air of acquired wealth and power which distinguishes many Jews and has therefore come to be regarded as a solely Jewish characteristic. He speaks always with that swift decision which betokens a narrowed view. This is_ RUSSELL BLACKBOROUGH; _manufacturer, politician ... statesman, his own side calls him._]

BLACKBOROUGH. [_To his hostess._] If I start now, they tell me, I shall get home before the moon goes down. I'm sorry I must get back to-night. It's been a most delightful week-end.

MRS. FARRANT. [_Gracefully giving him a good-bye hand._] And a successful one, I hope.

FARRANT. We talked Education for half an hour.

MRS. FARRANT. [_Her eyebrows lifting a shade._] Education!

FARRANT. Then Trebell went away to work.

BLACKBOROUGH. I've missed the music, I fear.

MRS. FARRANT. But it's been Bach.

BLACKBOROUGH. No Chopin?

MRS. FARRANT. For a minute only.

BLACKBOROUGH. Why don't these new Italian men write things for the piano!

Good-night, Lady Davenport.

LADY DAVENPORT. [_As he bows over her hand._] And what has Education to do with it?

BLACKBOROUGH. [_Non-committal himself._] Perhaps it was a subject that compromised n.o.body.

LADY DAVENPORT. Do you think my daughter has been wasting her time and her tact?

FARRANT. [_Clapping him on the shoulder._] Blackborough's frankly flabbergasted at the publicity of this intrigue.

MRS. FARRANT. Intrigue! Mr. Trebell walked across the House ... actually into your arms.

BLACKBOROUGH. [_With a certain dubious grimness._] Well ... we've had some very interesting talks since. And his views upon Education are quite ...

Utopian. Good bye, Miss Trebell.

FRANCES TREBELL. Good-bye.

MRS. FARRANT. I wouldn't be so haughty till after the election, if I were you, Mr. Blackborough.

BLACKBOROUGH. [_Indifferently._] Oh, I'm glad he's with us on the Church question ... so far.

MRS. FARRANT. So far as you've made up your minds? The electoral cat will jump soon.

BLACKBOROUGH. [_A little beaten by such polite cynicism._] Well ... our conservative principles! After all we know what they are. Good-night, Mrs.

O'Connell.

AMY O'CONNELL. Good-night.

FARRANT. Your neuralgia better?

AMY O'CONNELL. By fits and starts.

FARRANT. [_Robustly._] Come and play billiards. Horsham and Maconochie started a game. They can neither of them play. We left them working out a theory of angles on bits of paper.

WALTER KENT. Professor Maconochie lured me on to golf yesterday. He doesn't suffer from theories about that.

BLACKBOROUGH. [_With approval._] Started life as a caddie.

WALTER KENT. [_Pulling a wry face._] So he told me after the first hole.

BLACKBOROUGH. What's this, Kent, about Trebell's making you his secretary?

WALTER KENT. He thinks he'll have me.

BLACKBOROUGH. [_Almost reprovingly._] No question of politics?

FARRANT. More intrigue, Blackborough.

WALTER KENT. [_With disarming candour._] The truth is, you see, I haven't any as yet. I was Socialist at Oxford ... but of course that doesn't count.

I think I'd better learn my job under the best man I can find ... and who'll have me.

BLACKBOROUGH. [_Gravely._] What does your father say?

WALTER KENT. Oh, as long as Jack will inherit the property in a Tory spirit!

My father thinks it my wild oats.

_A Footman has come in._