She's an unmitigated fool about it.'Of course Mr.Long's clever, because he's in love with me and sits at my feet, and don't you see how clever I am? Don't you hear what good things I say--wait a little, I'm going to say another in about three minutes; and how, if you'll only give him time too, he comes out with them after me? They don't perhaps sound so good, but you see where he has got them.I'm so brilliant, in fine, that the men who admire me have only to imitate me, which, you observe, they strikingly do.' Something like that is all her philosophy."My friend turned it over."You do sound like her, you know.Yet how, if a woman's stupid--""Can she have made a man clever? She can't.She can't at least have begun it.What we shall know the real person by, in the case that you and I are studying, is that the man himself will have made her what she has become.She will have done just what Lady John has not done--she will have put up the shutters and closed the shop.She will have parted, for her friend, with her wit.""So that she may be regarded as reduced to idiocy?""Well--so I can only see it."
"And that if we look, therefore, for the right idiot--""We shall find the right woman--our friend's mystic Egeria? Yes, we shall be at least approaching the truth.We shall 'burn,' as they say in hide-and-seek." I of course kept to the point that the idiot would have to BE the right one.ANY idiot wouldn't be to the purpose.If it was enough that a woman was a fool the search might become hopeless even in a house that would have passed but ill for a fool's paradise.We were on one of the shaded terraces, to which, here and there, a tall window stood open.
The picture without was all morning and August, and within all clear dimness and rich gleams.We stopped once or twice, raking the gloom for lights, and it was at some such moment that Mrs.Brissenden asked me if I then regarded Gilbert Long as now exalted to the position of the most brilliant of our companions."The cleverest man of the party?"--it pulled me up a little."Hardly that, perhaps--for don't you see the proofs I'm myself giving you? But say he IS"--I considered--"the cleverest but one." The next moment I had seen what she meant."In that case the thing we're looking for ought logically to be the person, of the opposite ***, giving us the maximum sense of depletion for his benefit? The biggest fool, you suggest, MUST, consistently, be the right one? Yes again; it would so seem.But that's not really, you see, the short cut it sounds.The biggest fool is what we want, but the question is to discover who IS the biggest.""I'm glad then i feel so safe!" Mrs.Brissenden laughed.
"Oh, you're not the biggest!" I handsomely conceded."Besides, as Isay, there must be the other evidence--the evidence of relations."We had gone on, with this, a few steps, but my companion again checked me, while her nod toward a window gave my attention a lead."Won't THAT, as it happens, then do?" We could just see, from where we stood, a corner of one of the rooms.It was occupied by a seated couple, a lady whose face was in sight and a gentleman whose identity was attested by his back, a back somehow replete for us, at the moment, with a guilty significance.
There WAS the evidence of relations.That we had suddenly caught Long in the act of presenting his receptacle at the sacred fount seemed announced by the tone in which Mrs.Brissenden named the other party--"Mme.de Dreuil!"We looked at each other, I was aware, with some elation; but our triumph was brief.The Comtesse de Dreuil, we quickly felt--an American married to a Frenchman--wasn't at all the thing.She was almost as much "all there"as Lady John.She was only another screen, and we perceived, for that matter, the next minute, that Lady John was also present.Another step had placed us within range of her; the picture revealed in the rich dusk of the room was a group of three.From that moment, unanimously, we gave up Lady John, and as we continued our stroll my friend brought out her despair."Then he has nothing BUT screens? The need for so many does suggest a fire!"And in spite of discouragement she sounded, interrogatively, one after the other, the names of those ladies the perfection of whose presence of mind might, when considered, pass as questionable.We soon, however, felt our process to be, practically, a trifle invidious.Not one of the persons named could, at any rate--to do them all justice--affect us as an intellectual ruin.It was natural therefore for Mrs.Brissenden to conclude with scepticism.
"She may exist--and exist as you require her; but what, after all, proves that she's here? She mayn't have come down with him.Does it necessarily follow that they always go about together?"I was ready to declare that it necessarily followed.I had my idea, and I didn't see why I shouldn't bring it out."It's my belief that he no more goes away without her than you go away without poor Briss."She surveyed me in splendid serenity."But what have we in common?""With the parties to an abandoned flirtation? Well, you've in common your mutual attachment and the fact that you're thoroughly happy together.""Ah," she good-humouredly answered, "we don't flirt!""Well, at all events, you don't separate.He doesn't really suffer you out of his sight, and, to circulate in the society you adorn, you don't leave him at home.""Why shouldn't I?" she asked, looking at me, I thought, just a trifle harder.