No one inquired the relation between his spirit and his corns.
"Have any of you decided upon a course of action?" inquired the hostess. "You don't seem to, since you say nothing. Well, I have, then. As soon as the law courts open after Christmas, I shall apply for a divorce from Mr. Rutherford."
"I don't see upon what ground," observed Mrs. Honey, who was not only the oldest but the most practically informed woman present.
"He has deceived me."
"His putting a young girl in my charge proves nothing; not even that. It seems to me that there is a game of cross-purposes here—something underneath all this that we do not understand, and that only the interested parties can explain."
"Explain in their own way," retorted Mrs. Rutherford.
"Ladies," said the amiable Mrs. Plowden, "what has occurred is very unpleasant, but for all of you is only a little disagreement that really—as Mrs. Honey says—may be capable of explanation and eventual reconciliation with your husbands. But what is my position? I am the only one who has been terribly deceived, beyond the possibility of a doubt, and the consequences of that deceit are irreparable. If Mr. Plowden left a legitimate wife in England, then what is my position? What am I?"
"The divorce court," said Mrs. Rutherford, "is as open to you as to me."
"But I don't want a divorce from my Robert," sobbed the "willowy" and now weeping Gertrude.
"And you don't need any if he has really been guilty of bigamy," added the practical Mrs. Honey.