LADY JOHN. Ah! But you were rewarded. Jean--my niece--wrote me it was "glorious." FARN. (_judicially_). Well, you know, _I_ was disappointed. He's too content just to criticise, just to make his delicate pungent fun of the men who are grappling--very inadequately, of course--still _grappling_ with the big questions. There's a carrying power (_gets up and faces an imaginary audience_)--some of Stonor's friends ought to point it out--there's a driving power in the poorest constructive policy that makes the most brilliant criticism look barren. LADY JOHN (_with good-humoured malice_). Who told you that? FARN. You think there's nothing in it because _I_ say it. But now that he's coming into the family, Lord John or somebody really ought to point out--Stonor's overdoing his rôle of magnificent security! LADY JOHN. I don't see even Lord John offering to instruct Mr. Stonor. FARN. Believe me, that's just Stonor's danger! Nobody saying a word, everybody hoping he's on the point of adopting some definite line, something strong and original that's going to fire the public imagination and bring the Tories back into power. LADY JOHN. So he will. FARN. (_hotly_). Not if he disappoints meetings--goes calmly up to town--and leaves the field to the Liberals. LADY JOHN. When did he do anything like that? FARN. Yesterday! (_With a harassed air._) And now that he's got this other preoccupation---- LADY JOHN. You mean---- FARN. Yes, your niece--that spoilt child of Fortune. Of course! (_Stopping suddenly._) She kept him from the meeting last night. Well! (_sits down_) if that's the effect she's going to have it's pretty serious! LADY JOHN (_smiling_). _You_ are! FARN. I can assure you the election agent's more so. He's simply tearing his hair. LADY JOHN (_more gravely and coming nearer_). How do you know? FARN. He told me so himself--yesterday. I scraped acquaintance with the agent just to see if--if---- LADY JOHN. It's not only here that you manoeuvre for that Secretaryship! FARN. (_confidentially_). You can never tell when your chance might come! That election chap's promised to keep me posted. (_The door flies open and_ JEAN DUNBARTON _rushes in._) JEAN. Aunt Ellen--here I---- LADY JOHN (_astonished_). My dear child! (_They embrace. Enter_ LORD JOHN _from the garden--a benevolent, silver-haired despot of sixty-two._) LORD JOHN. I thought that was you running up the avenue. (JEAN _greets her uncle warmly, but all the time she and her aunt talk together. "How did you get here so early?" "I knew you'd be surprised--wasn't it clever of me to manage it? I don't deserve all the credit." "But there isn't any train between----" "Yes, wait till I tell you." "You walked in the broiling sun----" "No, no." "You must be dead. Why didn't you telegraph? I ordered the carriage to meet the 1.10. Didn't you say the 1.10? Yes, I'm sure you did--here's your letter."_)