"All women are unreasonable, you know; that is a tradition, and sometimes they see things in a light that is hidden to you men. I don't suppose Sir Samuel is a paragon of perfection, but, at the same time, I don't think he is half so bad as he has been painted. At least he is very harmless, and rather amusing."
Rupert Haverford looked at her, and a great amazement which bordered on pain took possession of him.
"You like him?" he said, going to the point in his peculiarly direct way.
Caroline shrugged her shoulders.
"I really think I do, but I am not sure; at any rate, I don't bother myself about it very much." Her tone was flippant. "How you do love catechising!" she said. It might have been Camilla speaking.
They passed up the garden again in silence; beyond the wide expanse of lawn the house stood hospitably open. Lights gleamed everywhere, Mr. Brenton's tall figure with stooping shoulders was coming slowly towards them.
"Well," Haverford said, in a cold, dry way, "if you regard him in this uncertain way it is easier for me to act."
Caroline looked round sharply. There was indignation in her tone.
"How do you mean ... act?"
"I mean I shall take steps to prevent this acquaintance from becoming an intimate one. However much it may annoy you, the fact remains that I am your guardian, and that until you are twenty-one you are not free to do anything of which I do not approve, and I assuredly do not approve of your friendship with this man."