She too was a childless widow, who had let her London house to find in travel the mental stimulus denied her in a somewhat empty and monotonous life.
"Where is the pretty little lady?" she began tentatively, with a glance round the room.
Before Mrs. Coltingham could reply, Miss Rigg had looked up from her knitting. "Oh! you'll find her in the passage, flirting with the boy," she announced with a laugh.
"Flirting! Poor little thing! I think her sad circumstances might protect her!" declared Miss Mullins, the stout lady Mrs. Lawrence had already designated as the "mother-sheep."
"Sad circumstances! I was brought up to consider divorced women not respectable," retorted Miss Rigg, warming to the fight.
"She divorced him remember!" returned Miss Mullins, pink in her defence of a sister woman.
"It makes a difference of course," remarked Miss Pembridge with maidenly hesitation. "Its not a subject one cares to talk about—quite. Still, sacred as the married tie is—"
"Sacred fiddlesticks!" interposed Miss Hooley, glaring at Miss Pembridge whom she detested. "Men are a lot of brutes, and if a few more women would divorce 'em before they married 'em, so much the better!"
Mrs. Lawrence and Mrs. Coltingham exchanged glances which led to a slightly abrupt change of seat on the part of both ladies.
