FRANCES TREBELL. [With sudden energy of mind.] Till I was forty I never realised the fact that most women must express themselves through men.

MRS. FARRANT. [Looking at FRANCES a little curiously.] Didn’t your instinct lead you to marry ... or did you fight against it?

FRANCES TREBELL.  I don’t know.  Perhaps I had no vitality to spare.

LADY DAVENPORT.  That boy is a long time proposing to Lucy.

      This effectually startles the other two from their conversational
      reverie.

MRS. FARRANT.  Walter?  I’m not sure that he means to.  She means to marry him if he does.

FRANCES TREBELL.  Has she told you so?

MRS. FARRANT.  No.  I judge by her business-like interest in his welfare.

FRANCES TREBELL.  He’s beginning to feel the responsibility of manhood ... doesn’t know whether to be frightened or proud of it.

LADY DAVENPORT.  It’s a pretty thing to watch young people mating.  When they’re older and marry from disappointment or deliberate choice, thinking themselves so worldly-wise....

MRS. FARRANT, [Back to her politely cynical mood.] Well ... then at least they don’t develop their differences at the same fire-side, regretting the happy time when neither possessed any character at all.

LADY DAVENPORT. [Giving a final douche of common sense.] My dear, any two reasonable people ought to be able to live together.

FRANCES TREBELL.  Granted three sitting rooms.  That’ll be the next middle-class political cry ... when women are heard.

MRS. FARRANT. [Suddenly as practical as her mother.] Walter’s lucky ...  Lucy won’t stand any nonsense.  She’ll have him in the Cabinet by the time he’s fifty.

LADY DAVENPORT.  And are you the power behind your brother, Miss Trebell?

FRANCES TREBELL. [Gravely.] He ignores women.  I’ve forced enough good manners on him to disguise the fact decently.  His affections are two generations ahead.

MRS. FARRANT.  People like him in an odd sort of way.

FRANCES TREBELL.  That’s just respect for work done ... one can’t escape from it.

      There is a slight pause in their talk.  By some not very devious
      route MRS. FARRANT’S mind travels to the next subject.

MRS. FARRANT.  Fanny ... how fond are you of Amy O’Connell?

FRANCES TREBELL.  She says we’re great friends.

MRS. FARRANT.  She says that of me.

FRANCES TREBELL.  It’s a pity about her husband.

MRS. FARRANT. [Almost provokingly.] What about him?

FRANCES TREBELL.  It seems to be understood that he treats her badly.

LADY DAVENPORT. [A little malicious.] Is there any particular reason he should treat her well?

FRANCES TREBELL.  Don’t you like her, Lady Davenport?

LADY DAVENPORT. [Dealing out justice.] I find her quite charming to look at and talk to ... but why shouldn’t Justin O’Connell live in Ireland for all that?  I’m going to bed, Julia.