tury electioneering speech to the citizens of Siena.

FRANCES. [_With a half smile._] Have you a vein of romance for holiday time?

TREBELL. [_Dispersing the suggestion._] Not at all romantic ... nothing but
figures and fiscal questions. That was the hardest commercial civilisation
there has been, though you only think of its art and its murders now.

FRANCES. The papers on both sides have been very full of you ... saying you
hold the moral balance ... or denying it.

TREBELL. An interviewer caught me at Basle. I offered to discuss the state
of the Swiss navy.

FRANCES. Was that before Lord Horsham wrote to you?

TREBELL. Yes, his letter came to Innsbruck. He "expressed" it somehow. Why
... it isn't known that he will definitely ask me to join?

FRANCES. The Whitehall had a leader before the Elections were well over to
say that he must ... but, of course, that was Mr. Farrant.

TREBELL. [_Knowingly._] Mrs. Farrant. I saw it in Paris ... it just caught
me up.

FRANCES. The Times is very shy over the whole question ... has a letter from
a fresh bishop every day ... doesn't talk of you very kindly yet.

TREBELL. Tampering with the Establishment, even Cantelupe's way, will be a
pill to the real old Tory right to the bitter end.

WALTER KENT _comes in, very fresh and happy-looking. A young man
started in life._ TREBELL _hails him._

TREBELL. Hullo ... you've not been long getting shaved.

KENT. How do you do, Miss Trebell? Lucy turned me out.

FRANCES. My congratulations. I've not seen you since I heard the news.

KENT. [_Glad and unembarrassed._] Thank you. I do deserve them, don't I?
Mrs. Farrant didn't come down ... she left us to breakfast together. But
I've a message for you ... her love and she is in town. I went and saw Lord
Charles, sir. He will come to you and be here at half past seven.

TREBELL. Look at these.

_He smacks on the back, so to speak, the pile of parcels and letters._

KENT. Oh, lord! ... I'd better start on them.

FRANCES. [_Continuing in her smooth oldmaidish manner._] Thank you for
getting engaged just before you went off with Henry ... it has given me my
only news of him, through Lucy and your postcards.

TREBELL. Oh, what about Wedgecroft?

KENT. I think it was he spun up just as I'd been let in.

TREBELL. Oh, well ... [_And he rings at the telephone which is on his
table._]

KENT. [_Confiding in_ MISS TREBELL.] We're a common sense couple, aren't we?
I