And is cursed with a masculine friend
    To confide in, and he is a blackguard,
      She isn’t far off from the end. 
    Oh, I’m through—­of course nobody blamed you
      In the end, when you got your divorce—­
    You were right enough there—­she’d levanted
      With Guelph, and you’d no other course. 
    What I mean is, if you’d acted squarely,
      The row would have never occurred,
    And for you to be doing the tragic,
      Strikes me as a little absurd. 
    As it stands, you’ve the best of the bargain,
      And she’s got a good deal the worst,
    Leave it there, and—­just touch the bell, will you? 
      You’re nearest, I’m dying of thirst.”

    IV. 
    AT AFTERNOON TEA.

    “‘In New York!’ Yes, I met her this morning. 
      I knew her in spite of her paint;
    And Guelph, too, poor fellow, was with her;
      I felt really nervous, and faint,
    When he bowed to me, looking so pleading—­
      I cut him, of course.  Wouldn’t you? 
    If I meet him alone, I’ll explain it;
      But knowing her, what could I do? 
    Poor fellow!  He looks sadly altered—­
      I think it a sin, and a shame,
    The way he was wrecked by that creature! 
      I know he was never to blame. 
    He never suspected.  He liked her—­
      He’d known her for most of his life—­
    And of course, it was quite a temptation
      To run off with another man’s wife. 
    At his age, you know—­barely thirty—­
      So romantic, and makes such a noise
    In one’s club—­why, one can’t but excuse him,
      Now can one, dear?  Boys will be boys. 
    I’ve known him so long—­why, he’d come here
      And talk to me just like a son. 
    It’s my duty—­I feel as a mother—­
      To save him; the thing can be done
    Very easily.  First, I must show him
      How grossly the woman deceived
    And entrapped him.—­It made such a scandal
      You know, that he can’t be received
    At all, any more, till he drops her—­
      He’ll certainly not be so mad
    As to hold to her still.  Oh, I know him
      So well—­I’m quite sure he’ll be glad
    On any excuse, to oblige me
      In a matter so trifling indeed. 
    Then the way will be clear. We’ll receive him,
      And the rest will soon follow our lead. 
    We must keep our eyes on him more closely
      Hereafter; young men of his wealth
    And position are so sorely tempted
      To waste time, and fortune, and health
    In frivolous pleasures and pastimes,
      That there’s but one safe-guard in life
    For them and their money—­we’ve seen it—­
      A really nice girl for a wife. 
    Too bad you’ve no daughter!  My Mamie
      Had influence with him for good