“That was a fine idea!” Muniment exclaimed, ingenuously.
“I have an exceeding, a quite inexpressible, regard for him. I have no patience with some of his opinions, and that is why I permitted myself to say just now that he is silly. But, after all, the opinions of our friends are not what we love them for, and therefore I don’t see why they should be what we hate them for. Hyacinth Robinson’s nature is singularly generous and his intelligence very fine, though there are some things that he muddles up. You just now expressed strongly your own regard for him; therefore we ought to be perfectly agreed. Agreed, I mean, about getting him out of his scrape.”
Muniment had the air of a man who felt that he must consider a little before he assented to these successive propositions; it being a limitation of his intellect that he could not respond without understanding. After a moment he answered, referring to the Princess’s last remark, in which the others appeared to culminate, and at the same time shaking his head a little and smiling, “His scrape isn’t important.”
“You thought it was when you got him into it.”
“I thought it would give him pleasure,” said Muniment.
“That’s not a reason for letting people do what isn’t good for them.”
“I wasn’t thinking so much about what would be good for him as about what would be bad for some others. He can do as he likes.”
“That’s easy to say. They must be persuaded not to call upon him.”
“Persuade them, then, dear madam.”
“How can I persuade them? If I could, I wouldn’t have approached you. I have no influence, and even if I had my motives would be suspected. You are the one to interpose.”