"I think you are right there," agreed Lord Wrexham, "men are so much simpler and less complex than women."
"Oh! we are grander altogether," agreed Lord Bobby; "simpler and yet more sublime, don't you know? One cannot help admiring us.
Though on our corns the little spitfires tread,
Tobacco-smoke unruffled crowns our head."
Everybody laughed, and Lady Farley continued: "I have studied men carefully for many years, and I feel that I am now qualified to carry on a satisfactory Platonic friendship. But of course, being married, I have not time or inclination for the thing; soldiers don't run out of a battle to try their skill at a shooting-range—they have heavier work on hand."
Sir Benjamin chuckled with delight. "Still, my dear, you can give these young and single persons some of the benefit of your superior wisdom, can't you?"
"Tell us how you would carry on a Platonic friendship, Aunt Caroline," said Violet Esdaile.
"Well, in the first place, I should never argue with a man; men hate it so, and it does no earthly good. In my young days I naturally used to endeavour to prove I was right when I knew I was; but now, when a man puts me straight as to facts of which he is absolutely ignorant, I merely accept his correction, and say I must have been misinformed. Of course I know all the time that I am right and he is wrong, but what does that matter? It is a woman's duty to be socially attractive—not statistically correct."
"And what else should you do, Lady Farley?" asked her host.
"I should never attempt to amend his anecdotes. This is an unpardonable sin. I have known homes broken up and lifelong friendships destroyed, by one person's saying that a thing happened on Thursday, when the raconteur had said Friday; while quarrels to which there could be no reconciliation have ensued from a difference of opinion as to whether A. met B. by the 10.20 or the 10.45 train."
"Lady Farley has studied men to some purpose," said Madderley.