Cynthia. How is the bride?
John. Oh, she's a wonder.
Cynthia. Indeed! Did she paw the ground like the war-horse in the Bible? I'm sure when Vida sees a wedding ring she smells the battle afar off. As for you, my dear Karslake, I should have thought once bitten, twice shy! But, you know best.
Vida, unable to keep her finger long out of a pie, saunters in.
Vida. Oh, Cynthia, I've just been through it again, and I feel as if I were eighteen. There's no use talking about it, my dear, with a woman it's never the second time! And how nice you were, Jack,—he never even laughed at us! [Sir Wilfrid follows her with hat and cane. Vida kisses John.] That's the wages of virtue!
Sir Wilfrid. [In time to see her kiss John.] I say, is it the custom? Every time she does that, my boy, you owe me a thousand pounds. [Seeing Cynthia, who approaches them, he looks at her and John in turn.] Mrs. Karslake. [To John.] And then you say it's not an extraordinary country!
[Cynthia is more and more puzzled.
Vida. [To John.] See you next Derby, Jack! [Walking to the door. To Sir Wilfrid.] Come along, Wilfrid! We really ought to be going. [To Cynthia.] I hope, dear, you haven't married him! Phillimore's a tomb! Good-bye, Cynthia—I'm so happy! [As she goes.] Just think of the silly people, dear, that only have this sensation once in a lifetime!
[John follows Vida out the door.
Sir Wilfrid. [To Cynthia.] Good-bye, Mrs. Karslake. And I say, ye know, if you have married that dull old Phillimore fellah, why, when you've divorced him, come over and stay at Traynham! I mean, of course, ye know, bring your new husband. There'll be lots o' horses to show you, and a whole covey of jolly little Cates-Darbys. Mind you come! [With real delicacy of feeling and forgetting his wife.] Never liked a woman as much in my life as I did you!