“I have always found your counsel good,” said Harold. “You know men and their motives. I have often wondered if you knew anything about women.”
Mr. Airey smiled. It was rather ridiculous that anyone so well acquainted with him as Harold was, should make use of a phrase that suggested a doubt of his capacity.
“Quite so,” said Harold. “Their motives. You once assured me that there was no such thing as woman in the abstract. Perhaps, assuming that that is your standpoint, you may say that it is ridiculous to talk of the motives of woman; though it would be reasonable--at least as reasonable as most talk of women--to speak of the motives of a woman.”
“What woman do you speak of?” said Edmund, quickly.
“I speak as a fool--broadly,” said Harold. “I feel myself to be a fool, when I reflect upon the wisdom of those stories told to us by Brian the boatman. The first was about a man who defrauded the revenue of the country, the other was about a cow that got jammed in the doorway of an Irish cabin. There was some practical philosophy in both those stories, and they put all questions of women and their motives out of our heads while Brian was telling them.”
“There’s no doubt about that,” said Edmund.
“By the way, didn’t you ask me for my advice on some point during one of those days on the Irish lough?”
“If I did, I’m certain that I received good counsel from you,” said Harold.
“You did. But you didn’t take it,” said Edmund, with a laugh.
“I told you once that you hadn’t given me time. I tell you so again,” said Harold.
“Has she been to see you within the past few days? asked Edmund.
“You understand women--and their motives,” said Harold. “Yes, Miss Craven was here. By the way, talking of motives, I have often wondered why you suggested to my sister that Miss Avon would make an agreeable addition to the party at Abbeylands.”
Not for a second did Edmund Airey change colour--not for a second did his eyes fall before the searching glance of his friend.
“The fact was,” said he--and he smiled as he spoke--“I was under the impression that your father--ah, well, if he hadn’t that mechanical rectitude of movement which appertains chiefly to the walking doll and other automata, he had still many good points. He told me upon one occasion that it was his intention to marry Miss Avon. I was amused.”