"For the world in general," said Georgina, cautiously, with an unnoticed glance at her companion. "But of course Philip has only himself to blame. Why did he marry such a woman?"
"She may have been very beautiful—or charming—you don't know."
Lady Georgina shrugged her shoulders.
"Well, of course there must have been something to bait the hook! But when a man marries out of his own class, unless the woman dies, the man goes to pieces."
"Philip has not gone to pieces!" cried Cynthia indignantly.
"Because she removed herself. For practical purposes that was as good as dying. He has much to be grateful for. Suppose she had come home with him! She would have ruined him socially and morally."
"And if she doesn't die," said Cynthia slowly, "what will Philip do then?"
"Ship her off to America, as she asks him, and prove a few little facts in the divorce court—simple enough! It oughtn't to take him much more than six months to get free—which he never has been yet!" added Georgina, with particular emphasis.
"It's a mercy, my dear, that you didn't just happen to be Lady
Buntingford!"
"As if I had ever expected to be!" said Cynthia, much nettled.