"She must be a daisy! And when are you going to be married, old man?
I'll lend you Arranstoun for the honeymoon--damned good place for a honeymoon--" and then he stopped short suddenly and laughed with a strange regretful sound in his mirth.
"Alas!" Henry sighed.

"I cannot say--she is an American, you know, and has been married to a brute of her own nation out west, whom she has to get perfectly free of before I can have the honor to call her mine." "Whew!" "Yes, it is a dreadful bore having to wait.

They arrange divorces wonderfully well over there though it is only a question of a few months, I suppose--but she would be worth waiting for for ten years----" "It is simply glorious to hear you raving so, old bird!" Michael laughed.

"When I think of the lectures you used to give me about women--mere recreations for a man's leisure moments, I think you called them, and not to be taken seriously in a man's real life!" "I have completely changed my opinions," Lord Fordyce announced, rather nettled.

"So would any man if he knew Mrs.Howard." "Howard ?" asked Michael--"but anyone can be a Talbot or a Howard or a Cavendish out there--so she is a Mrs.Howard, is she?
I wonder who the husband was--I had a rascally cousin of that name who went to Arizona--perhaps she married him." "Her husband was an American," Henry rejoined, "and is in a madhouse or an institution for inebriates, I believe." "Well, I wish you all joy, Henry, I do, indeed--and I promise you I will do all I can to help you through with it.