Rachel Baxter, being of a less philosophical turn of mind, was still aghast.
"What will people say?" she added naively, as one in monologue. "Of course, they have their money."
"They have their money, and Lydia proposes to come back here as soon as she has—er—changed husbands. That's just like her, too. She intends that Westfield shall treat her precisely as though nothing had happened."
"Really!" Mrs. Baxter's surprise showed a touch of consternation. "It will be very awkward, won't it? Though, after all," she murmured, "it isn't anything criminal, like—" She found difficulty in hitting on an appropriate simile. Meanwhile Mrs. Cole added, dispassionately:
"She would have come to-day, but she felt that she might be thought indelicate, considering that it is a wedding, and that her own affairs are still at sixes and sevens so far as appearances go. But she sent her love to Peggy."
At the moment they were dashing up the driveway of "Valley Farm." Mrs. Baxter, who had been nursing her emotions as one whose ethical sensibilities had received a blow in the solar plexus, made this attempt at a summary:
"It is diabolical, but interesting. I wonder what people will say."
No time was lost by either of them in spreading the abnormal news. But it suited pretty Mrs. Baxter's temperament better to follow in her companion's wake, supplementing the narrative by ingenuous cooing speeches rather than by an independent excursion. They joined at first the procession of guests making snail-like progress toward the bride and groom, who were holding court in the drawing-room of the decorative modern mansion built for occupation from May to December. As chance would have it, they found themselves next in line behind Mrs. Andrew Cunningham, into whose ear Fannie Cole, bending forward, whispered simply the fell words: