"Just so," Edgar rejoined, with a laugh. "She's a lady I've a high
opinion of; in fact, I'm a little afraid of her. Though I'm nearly as
old as she is, she makes me feel callow. It's a sensation that's new
to me."

"And you're a man of experience, aren't you?"

"I suppose I was rather a favorite at home," Edgar owned with humorous
modesty. "For all that, I don't feel myself quite up to Miss Grant's
standard."

"I didn't notice any assumption of superiority on her part."

"Oh, no," said Edgar. "She doesn't require to assume it; the
superiority's obvious; that's the trouble. One hesitates about
offering her the small change of compliments that generally went well
at home. If you try to say something smart, she looks at you as if she
were amused, not at what you said, but at you. There's an embarrassing
difference between the things."

"The remedy's simple. Don't try to be smart."

"You would find that easy," Edgar retorted. "Now, in my opinion, Miss
Grant is intellectual, which is more than anybody ever accused you of
being, but I suspect you would make more progress with her than I could
do. Extremes have a way of meeting, and perhaps it isn't really
curious that your direct and simple views should now and then recommend
you to a more complex person."

"I notice a couple of beasts straying yonder," George said dryly.