TREBELL. [_Without a tremor._] Ah . . give it me. _He opens this as he has opened the others, carefully putting the envelope to one side._ FRANCES _has ceased for the moment to watch him_. FRANCES. That's Cousin Robert's handwriting. [_She puts a square envelope at his hand._] Is a letter marked private from the Education Office political or personal? _By this he has read_ HORSHAM'S _letter twice. So he tears it up and speaks very coldly._ TREBELL. Either. It doesn't matter. _In the silence her fears return._ FRANCES. Henry, it's a foolish idea . . I suppose I have it because I hardly slept for thinking of her. Your trouble is nothing to do with Amy O'Connell, is it? TREBELL. [_His voice strangled in his throat._] Her child should have been my child too. FRANCES. [_Her eyes open, the whole landscape of her mind suddenly clear._] Oh, I . . no, I didn't think so . . but. . . TREBELL. [_Dealing his second blow as remorselessly as dealt to him._] Also I'm not joining the new Cabinet, my dear sister. FRANCES. [_Her thoughts rushing now to the present--the future._] Not! Because of . . ? Do people know? Will they . ? You didn't . . ? _As mechanically as ever he has taken up_ COUSIN ROBERT'S _letter and, in some sense, read it. Now he recapitulates, meaninglessly, that his voice may just deaden her pain and his own._ TREBELL. Robert says . . that we've not been to see them for some time . . but that now I'm a greater man than ever I must be very busy. The vicarage has been painted and papered throughout and looks much fresher. Mary sends you her love and hopes you have no return of the rheumatism. And he would like to send me the proof sheets of his critical commentary on First Timothy . . for my alien eye might possibly detect some logical lapses. Need he repeat to me his thankfulness at my new attitude upon Disestablishment . . or assure me again that I have his prayers. Could we not go and stay there only for a few days? Possibly his opinion-- _She has borne this cruel kindness as long as she can and she breaks out . ._ FRANCES. Oh . . don't . . don't! _He falls from his seeming callousness to the very blankness of despair._ TREBELL. No, we'll leave that . . and the rest . . and everything. _Her agony passes._ FRANCES. What do you mean to do? TREBELL. There's to be no public scandal. FRANCES. Why has Lord Horsham thrown you over then . . or hasn't that anything to do with it? TREBELL. It has to do with it. FRANCES. [_Lifting her voice; some tone returning to it._] Unconsciously . . I've known for years that this sort of thing might happen to you. TREBELL. Why? FRANCES. Power over men and women and contempt for them! Do you think they don't take their revenge sooner or later? TREBELL. Much good may it do them! FRANCES. Human nature turns against you . . by instinct . . in self-defence. TREBELL. And my own human-nature!