Major Jacobs, from his end of the table, looked penitent but mystified.
"Happy is the woman," said Mrs. Darcey-Jacobs, "who has no men about her."
"I should like to have been born a widow," said a pretty girl with beseeching blue eyes and a soft, confiding expression, who sat a little lower down on my side of the table. And then the subject of matrimony was in full swing.
"Marriage is just an experience," said a shrill-voiced American widow who sat opposite. "Every one should try it, but that is no reason why one should not be thankful when it is over."
"I am much interested in what you say," said Mrs. Darcey-Jacobs, with a certain profound air suitable to so great a subject. One felt the want of the Jamiesons sadly during the ensuing discussion, and I almost found myself, in the words of Mettie, making the suggestion that marriage was a great risk.
"Some one once said," ventured Major Darcey-Jacobs, "that choosing a wife was like choosing a profession—it did not matter much what your choice was, so long as you stuck to it. It was a mere figure of speech, no doubt——"
"I hope so, indeed," said Mrs. Darcey-Jacobs.
"Marriage is the worst form of gambling," broke in an elderly gentleman; "it should be suppressed by law. Talk about lotteries! Talk about sweepstakes! Why, the worst you can do, if you put your money into them, is to draw a blank. Now, this is fair play, I consider; you either get a prize or you get nothing. But matrimony, sir, is a swindle compared with which the Missing Word Competition appears like a legal document beside a forged bank-note."
If the old gentleman had a wife present she was evidently of a callous disposition, for I saw no wrathful expression on any face.
Mr. Ellicomb—even in London Ellicomb and Anthony Crawshay are asked to meet us—gave it as his opinion that a woman's hand was wanted in the home. The voice was the voice of Ellicomb, the sentiment was the sentiment of Maud, and Palestrina and I very nearly exchanged glances.