"So you're come at last!" said Lady Muriel, in a tone of playful reproach.
"I was delayed," I stammered. Though what it was that had delayed me I
should have been puzzled to explain! Luckily no questions were asked.
The carriage was ordered round, the hamper, containing our contribution
to the Picnic, was duly stowed away, and we set forth.
There was no need for me to maintain the conversation. Lady Muriel and
Arthur were evidently on those most delightful of terms, where one has
no need to check thought after thought, as it rises to the lips, with
the fear 'this will not be appreciated--this will give' offence--
this will sound too serious--this will sound flippant': like very old
friends, in fullest sympathy, their talk rippled on.
"Why shouldn't we desert the Picnic and go in some other direction?"
she suddenly suggested. "A party of four is surely self-sufficing?
And as for food, our hamper--"
"Why shouldn't we? What a genuine lady's argument!" laughed Arthur.
"A lady never knows on which side the onus probandi--the burden of
proving--lies!"
"Do men always know?" she asked with a pretty assumption of meek docility.
"With one exception--the only one I can think of Dr. Watts, who has
asked the senseless question
'Why should I deprive my neighbour
Of his goods against his will?'
Fancy that as an argument for Honesty! His position seems to be 'I'm
only honest because I see no reason to steal.
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