Miss Bennett looked dignified and a little stubborn, as if she were accustomed to being misunderstood, as if Lydia ought to have known that she had had a reason for what she did. As a matter of fact, she had no plan; she was not a plotter. That was one of the difficulties between her and Lydia. Lydia arranged her life, controlled her time and her surroundings. Miss Bennett amiably drifted, letting events and her friends control. She could never understand why Lydia held her responsible for situations which it seemed to her simply happened, and yet she could never resist pretending that she had deliberately brought them about. She began to think now that it had been her idea, not Mrs. Galton's, to get Lydia interested in prison reform.
"No one can be happy, Lydia, without an unselfish interest, something outside of themselves."
Lydia smiled. There was something pathetic in poor little ineffective Benny trying to arrange her life for her.
"I contrive to be fairly happy, thank you, Benny. I've got to leave you, because I have an engagement at Eleanor's at four, and it's ten minutes before now."
"Lydia, it's ten miles!"
"Ten miles—ten minutes."
"You'll be killed if you drive so recklessly."
"No Benny, because I drive very well."
"You'll be arrested then."
"Even less."