"Oh, I see!" he said, not turning a hair, for which I respected him. "No, you've got it wrong, old chap. Coleoptera is beetles, you know. The fact is that I wanted to get up some subject that would give fellows like you a taste for science. There's a good deal to be lost over it, you know. Have you ever heard of Professor Gregory? He began just like that, reading with a parson fellow who took an interest in him—I mean, took an interest in science. Gregory was the son of a ground landlord, you know, and if he could raise himself to what he is now, anybody could. Why don't you try it, old chap? I'm sure you look intelligent enough."
I looked as modest as possible under the circumstances, and he seemed to regard me more closely. "What's your line?" he asked. "What are you doing to scare off the oof-bird?"[22]
I don't know what I should have replied to this question, but at that moment Mr. Perry, whom I had observed gradually waking up, came over to us and said: "Ah, Howard, I see you're in good hands, but I think we must be going off now. The carriage is at the door, and my good Thomas won't like to be kept waiting."
The curate looked at me again, with a slightly different expression, and Mr. Perry said to him: "We don't often get a Highlander here, do we, Thompson? Mr. Howard is making social enquiries. I dare say he has learnt quite a lot from you."
The curate suddenly laughed. "I am afraid I have put my foot in it, sir," he said. "If you come among us disguised as a rich man, you can't complain of being treated like one."[23]
He was a good fellow, and we shook hands warmly as we parted.
[CHAPTER XIII]
We arrived home in time to dress for dinner. Lord Arthur had laid out my evening clothes, and was still in the room, evidently ready for a little conversation.