The lady smiled. "There is such a thing as compulsory education."
"Caroline is quite right," agreed Lady Esdaile, "it is never any use arguing with a man. In the first place he is always sure to know better than you do."
"That was not my reason for objecting to the habit," murmured Lady Farley.
"But he always is—that is, if it is anything out of books or newspapers. Of course clothes are a different thing, and there I should be very careful about trusting a man's taste too far. At least their taste is right enough, but they seem to have no proper regard for fashion."
"Perhaps now that Aunt Caroline has taught us how to adapt ourselves to men, Mr. Madderley will teach us how to adapt ourselves to women," suggested Isabel; "for I believe he prides himself on his profound knowledge of, and contempt for, the sex."
"With pleasure. Whenever I am dealing with ladies I take as my guide and watchword the legend painted upon the racks of railway carriages: 'These racks are suited for light articles only, and must not be used for heavy luggage;' and I find this is a most successful prescription. For 'light articles' one must read, pleasure, luxury, admiration, amusement, etc.; and for 'heavy luggage,' sickness, sorrow, love, poverty, and every other adversity."
"I see," said Isabel.
"I once knew a man who put his heavy luggage in the rack, in spite of the printed warning," said the artist, "and it fell through and broke his head; I knew another man who made a similar mistake in dealing with a lady; the consequences were practically the same, only it was his heart instead of his head that was broken."
Isabel's eyes flashed. "I am afraid your friends are not as wise as you are."
"Perhaps not; but I am hoping that they will learn wisdom by experience."