"Georgie"
"Well," said I at last, "there are two ways of looking at it, and I can't help thinking that it would have been rather a mistake to upset the poor lady on the verge of a dinner-party. Georgie isn't often wise, but in this case I fancy that a short delay was, to say the least of it, expedient."
"Oh!" cried Diana. Expedient is a hateful word. I hate expediency. People ought to do right whatever happens. There are only right and wrong, you see. There are no lights and shades where duty is concerned."
I thought it was only kind to respect the opinions of rigid eighteen without attempting to disillusionize, so, gracefully, I changed the subject.
"Are you looking forward to the hunting?" I asked, vaguely remembering something Georgie had once said of her tastes. Her eyes lit up.
"You bet!" she cried, with a sudden relapse into brotherly slang. "Last year it was too ripping for words. Georgie used to take the most awful fences last year.
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