I ought to have been there, ’Tina. I said it was my duty, if you remember. JUSTINA. _I_ might have gone. MRS. QUINTON TWELVES. Certainly; and yet you have both sat at home, quaking; behaving, for all the world, as if you have a lurking suspicion that Theophila really may—really has—really did—— MRS. EMPTAGE. Kate, I will not permit you to say such a thing! MRS. QUINTON TWELVES. Why these miserable-looking gowns then? You are dressed more funereally to-day than you were yesterday! MRS. EMPTAGE. [_Tearfully._] If you live to see a daughter of yours, however innocent she may be, dragged through the Divorce Court——! JUSTINA. We haven’t been quite certain what we ought to put on. MRS. EMPTAGE. I considered half-mourning rather a happy thought. MRS. QUINTON TWELVES. To my mind, it looks as if you had deliberately prepared for all emergencies. MRS. EMPTAGE. [_Rising, in a flutter._] ’Tina, pin some flowers in your dress at once! I’ll get Bristow to stick a bit of relief about me somewhere. And I’ll wear some more rings—— [_She goes out._ JUSTINA _selects some cut flowers from a vase on the pianoforte_. JUSTINA. Oh, Kit, we were dreadfully in the dumps. Bless you for bullying us! MRS. QUINTON TWELVES. [_Taking a pin from her hat._] Come here. JUSTINA. [_Going to_ MRS. TWELVES.] By Jove, though! it would have been _too_ rough on us if—if—wouldn’t it? MRS. QUINTON TWELVES. [_Attaching the flowers to the bodice of_ JUSTINA’S _dress_.] Pray complete your sentence. JUSTINA. Well—if Mrs. Allingham had made out her case against Jack Allingham and Theo. MRS. QUINTON TWELVES. For shame, ’Tina! JUSTINA. Oh, you’re awfully prudish all of a sudden, Kate. You’ve very soon forgotten—— Mind that pin! MRS. QUINTON TWELVES. What are you saying? JUSTINA. I mean, it isn’t as if we hadn’t all been just a _leetle_ rapid in our time, we three girls—Theo, you, and I. You needn’t be quite so newly-married-womanish with _me_. MRS. QUINTON TWELVES. Shut up! JUSTINA. [_Glancing round._] No one’s there. MRS. QUINTON TWELVES. [_In an undertone._] We always knew where to draw the line, I hope. JUSTINA. Of course we did. Only, when you’re married, as Theo is, to a cold, dry mummy of a man like Alexander Fraser, the line’s apt to get drawn rather zigzag.