He listened and smiled. “They are talking of Lady Horne’s divorce,” he said; “what is your ladyship’s view of it?”
She hesitated—and there is a proverb!
“You are a Papist,” she said, “do you believe that a marriage—even a foolish one—is indissoluble?”
“Certainly I do,” he replied piously; “perish the thought of severing the tie!”
She reddened.
“So, ’tis ‘for better or for worse’!” she said bitterly, “and usually for worse.”
“‘Until death us do part,’” he quoted piously again.
Lady Betty started and turned from red to white.
“’Tis a horrible idea,” she said, with a shudder,—Lord Sunderland would have heard her with amazement,—“no escape for a poor woman who has been ensnared into a wretched union!”
“A wretched union,” he repeated slowly, a change coming over his face, “a wretched union; are all marriages so wretched, my lady?”