It's merely that I thought my son should know that Lady Frederick had been the mistress of Roger Bellingham. [LADY FREDERICK _turns quickly and looks at her_; _then bursts into a peal of laughter_. LADY MERESTON _springs up angrily and hands her a letter_.] Is this in your handwriting? LADY FREDERICK. [_Not at all disconcerted._] Dear me, how did you get hold of this? LADY MERESTON. You see that I have ample proof, Lady Frederick. LADY FREDERICK. [_Handing the letter to_ MERESTON.] Would you like to read it? You know my writing well enough to be able to answer Lady Mereston's question. [_He reads it through and looks at her in dismay._ MERESTON. Good God!... What does it mean? LADY FREDERICK. Pray read it aloud. MERESTON. I can't. LADY FREDERICK. Then give it to me. [_She takes it from him._] It's addressed to my brother-in-law, Peter Berolles. The Kate to whom it refers was his wife. [_Reads._] Dear Peter: I'm sorry you should have had a row with Kate about Roger Bellingham. You are quite wrong in all you thought. There is absolutely nothing between them. I don't know where Kate was on Tuesday night, but certainly she was not within a hundred miles of Roger. This I know because.... MERESTON. [_Interrupting._] For God's sake don't go on. [LADY FREDERICK _looks at him and shrugs her shoulders_. LADY FREDERICK. It's signed Elizabeth Berolles. And there's a postscript: You may make what use of this letter you like. MERESTON. What does it mean? What does it mean? LADY MERESTON. Surely it's very clear? You can't want a more explicit confession of guilt. LADY FREDERICK. I tried to make it as explicit as possible. LADY MERESTON. Won't you say something? I'm sure there must be some explanation. LADY FREDERICK. I don't know how you got hold of this letter, Lady Mereston. I agree with you, it is compromising. But Kate and Peter are dead now, and there's nothing to prevent me from telling the truth. [PARADINE FOULDES _takes a step forward and watches her_. LADY FREDERICK. My sister-in-law was a meek and mild little person, as demure as you can imagine, and no one would have suspected her for a moment of kicking over the traces. Well, one morning she came to me in floods of tears and confessed that she and Roger Bellingham [_with a shrug_] had been foolish. Her husband suspected that something was wrong and had kicked up a row. FOULDES. [_Drily._] There are men who will make a scene on the smallest provocation. LADY FREDERICK.