"It's obvious," George declared. "I understand your father; he's a very generous friend, but the idea of sending me the seed didn't occur to him in the first place; though I haven't the least doubt that he was glad to act on it."
"Ah!" said Flora, "it looks as if you had been acquiring some penetration; you were not so explicit the last time you insisted on thanking me. Who can have been teaching you? It seems, however, that I'm still incomprehensible."
George considered. It would be undesirable to explain that his enlightenment had come from Edgar, and he wanted to express what he felt.
"No," he said, in answer to her last remark; "not altogether; but I've sometimes felt that there's a barrier of reserve in you, beyond which it's hard to get."
"Do you think it would be worth while to make the attempt? Suppose you succeeded and found there was nothing on the other side?"
He made a sign of negation, and she watched him with some interest; the man was trying to thrash out his ideas.
"That couldn't happen," he declared gravely. "Somehow you make one feel there is much in you that wants discovery, but that one will learn it by and by. After all, it's only the shallow people you never really get to know."
"It would seem an easy task, on the face of it."
"As a matter of fact, it isn't. They have a way of enveloping themselves in an air of importance and mystery, and when they don't do so, they're casual and inconsequent. One likes people with, so to speak, some continuity of character. By degrees one gets to know how they'll act and it gives one a sense of reliance." He paused and added, diffidently: "Anything you did would be wise and generous."
"By degrees?" smiled Flora. "So it's slowly, by patient sapping, the barriers go down! One could imagine that such things might be violently stormed. But you're not rash, are you, or often in a hurry? However, it's time I was getting home."