“I have the misfortune to be a widow, Lady Mickleham,” said Mrs. Wiggins.
Dolly’s eyes rested upon her with an interesting expression. I knew that she was about to ask Mrs. Wiggins whether she liked the condition of life, and I interposed hastily, with a sigh:
“But you can look back on a happy marriage, Mrs. Wiggins?”
“I did my best to make it so,” said she stiffly.
“You are right,” said I. “Even in the face of unkindness we should strive—”
“My husband’s not unkind,” said Dolly.
“I didn’t mean your husband,” said I.
“What your poor wife would do if she cared a button for you, I don’t know,” observed Dolly.
“If I had a wife who cared for me, I should be a better man,” said I solemnly.
“But you’d probably be very dull,” said Dolly. “And you wouldn’t be allowed to drive with me.”