Questions were then put to Adela, whether Mr. Pole had spoken in the manner of one who was prompted:  whether he hesitated as he spoke:  whether, in short, Wilfrid was seen behind his tongue.  Adela resolved that Wilfrid should have one protectress.

“You are entirely mistaken in ascribing treachery to him,” she said.  “It is papa that is changed.  You may suppose it to be without any reason, if you please.  I would tell you to study him for yourselves, only I am convinced that these special private interviews are anything but good policy, and are strictly to be avoided, unless of course, as in the present instance, we have something directly to do.”

Toward dawn the ladies had decreed that it was policy to be quite passive, and provoke no word of Mrs. Chump by making any allusion to Besworth, and by fencing with the mention of the place.

As they rarely failed to carry out any plan deliberately conceived by them, Mr. Pole was astonished to find that Besworth was altogether dropped.  After certain scattered attempts to bring them upon Besworth, he shrugged, and resigned himself, but without looking happy.

Indeed he looked so dismal that the ladies began to think he had a great longing for Besworth.  And yet he did not go there, or even praise it to the discredit of Brookfield!  They were perplexed.

“Let me ask you how it is,” said Cornelia to Mr. Barrett, “that a person whom we know—­whose actions and motives are as plain to us as though discerned through a glass, should at times produce a completer mystification than any other creature?  Or have you not observed it?”

“I have had better opportunities of observing it than most people,” Mr. Barren replied, with one of his saddest amused smiles.  “I have come to the conclusion that the person we know best is the one whom we never understand.”

“You answer me with a paradox.”

“Is it not the natural attendant on an assumption?”

“What assumption?”

“That you know a person thoroughly.”

“May we not?”

“Do you, when you acknowledge this ’complete mystification’?”

“Yes.”  Cornelia smiled when she had said it.  “And no.”

Mr. Barrett, with his eyes on her, laughed softly.  “Which is paradox at the fountain-head!  But, when we say we know any one, we mean commonly that we are accustomed to his ways and habits of mind; or, that we can reckon on the predominant influence of his appetites.  Sometimes we can tell which impulse is likely to be the most active, and which principle the least restraining.  The only knowledge to be trusted is a grounded or scientific study of the springs that move him, side by side with his method of moving the springs.  If you fail to do this, you have two classes under your eyes:  you have sane and madman:  and it will seem to you that the ranks of the latter are constantly being swollen in an extraordinary manner.  The customary impression, as we get older, is that our friends are the maddest people in the world.  You see, we have grown accustomed to them; and now, if they bewilder us, our judgement, in self-defence, is compelled to set them down lunatic.”