"How you understand women," said she placidly. "But then there isn't much to understand about a woman—a good woman."
"Oh, you underestimate yourself," said he generously. "You're a very clever little lady—in your own charming feminine way. I often admire it."
A ghost of a smile flitted about her lips; but she seemed more intent upon her nails than upon his half-absent compliment.
"To confess the honest truth," he went on, "I've never liked Gallatin myself. I know he's a good sort— But— Well, he has no depth. He has a stock of education and a stock of manners, just as he has a stock of clothes. But it's all of some one else's make; nothing of his own, except a pleasant, amiable disposition. And he lacks purpose. However, all these things—especially lack of purpose—would only recommend him to a woman. Women are so frivolously constituted that purpose is a bore to them."
"Any more of a bore than it is to most men?" inquired Courtney.
Vaughan laughed acknowledgment. "Anyhow, I couldn't warm up to him. He's going, but he keeps his partnership—at least, for the present."
"Has he gone?"
"Of course not! He'd hardly be so rude as not to say good-by to you. Do you know why I think he's going?"
"Didn't he tell you?"
"He says a business letter came at noon to-day. And no doubt it had something to do with it. But mere business would hardly take him off in such a rush. At first I thought it was a hurry call from some idle female for him to come and amuse her. All bachelors get them, and Gallatin's just the sort of gander to respond. But on second thought I suspected he's flying because he's in love with you."