Waste | Page 3

money.
LUCY DAVENPORT. [Visualising sovereigns.] A hundred millions or so ... think of it!
FRANCES TREBELL. There has been from the start a good deal of anti-Nonconformist feeling against applying the money to secular uses.
MRS. FARRANT. [Deprecating false modesty, on anyone's behalf.] Oh, of course the speech turned votes ... twenty of them at least.
LUCY DAVENPORT. [Determined on information.] Then I was told Lord Horsham had tried to come to an understanding himself with the Nonconformists about Disestablishment--oh--a long time ago ... over the Education Bill.
FRANCES TREBELL. Is that true, Julia?
MRS. FARRANT. How should I know?
FRANCES TREBELL. [With some mischief] You might.
MRS. FARRANT. [Weighing her words.] I don't think it would have been altogether wise to make advances. They'd have asked more than a Conservative government could possibly persuade the Church to give up.
WALTER KENT. I don't see that Horsham's much better off now. He only turned the Radicals out on the Spoliation question by the help of Trebell. And so far ... I mean, till this election is over Trebell counts still as one of them, doesn't he, Miss Trebell? Oh ... perhaps he doesn't.
FRANCES TREBELL. He'll tell you he never has counted as one of them.
MRS. FARRANT. No doubt Lord Charles would sooner have done without his help. And that's why I didn't ask the gentle Jesuit this week-end if anyone wants to know.
WALTER KENT. [Stupent at this lack of party spirit.] What ... he'd rather have had the Liberals go to the country undefeated!
MRS. FARRANT. [With finesse.] The election may bring us back independent of Mr. Trebell and anything he stands for.
WALTER KENT. [Sharply.] But you asked Lord Horsham to meet him.
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 pass. 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 nobody.
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