"A choice of evils," said Mrs. Doria's sour-sweet face and shake of the head.
Each lady saw a point of dissension, and mutually agreed, with heroic effort, to avoid it by shutting their mouths. What was more, they preserved the peace in spite of Adrian's artifices.
"Well, I'll talk to him again," he said. "I'll try to get the Engine on the conventional line."
"Command him!" exclaimed Mrs. Doria.
"Gentle means are, I think, the only means with Richard," said Lady
Blandish.
Throwing banter aside, as much as he could, Adrian spoke to Richard. "You want to reform this woman. Her manner is open—fair and free—the traditional characteristic. We won't stop to canvass how that particular honesty of deportment that wins your approbation has been gained. In her college it is not uncommon. Girls, you know, are not like boys. At a certain age they can't be quite natural. It's a bad sign if they don't blush, and fib, and affect this and that. It wears off when they're women. But a woman who speaks like a man, and has all those excellent virtues you admire—where has she learned the trick? She tells you. You don't surely approve of the school? Well, what is there in it, then? Reform her, of course. The task is worthy of your energies. But, if you are appointed to do it, don't do it publicly, and don't attempt it just now. May I ask you whether your wife participates in this undertaking?"
Richard walked away from the interrogation. The wise youth, who hated long unrelieved speeches and had healed his conscience, said no more.
Dear tender Lucy! Poor darling! Richard's eyes moistened. Her letters seemed sadder latterly. Yet she never called to him to come, or he would have gone. His heart leapt up to her. He announced to Adrian that he should wait no longer for his father. Adrian placidly nodded.
The enchantress observed that her knight had a clouded brow and an absent voice.
"Richard—I can't call you Dick now, I really don't know why"—she said,
"I want to beg a favour of you."