"Yes."
"And a gentleman?"
"Yes."
"But confoundedly conceited?"
"No—well, not quite. Something like it, Mr. Austin. How did you know?"
"It's what he use to say to me himself three times a week?"
Her face had lit up in merriment during this little talk, but now she grew thoughtful again. I might well have looked thoughtful, too; so far as had appeared at present, there was no injunction against parting with me—no worth-his-weight-in-gold appraisement of the secretary!
"I expect he liked the scholar-and-gentleman part," she reflected. "He wasn't at all a scholar himself, I suppose?"
"He'd had no time for that," said Cartmell.
"Nor a gentleman?"