The poor man took the guinea, and the prescription, and his head drooped again, and he slouched away.
Dr. Wycherley remarked significantly that his conduct was worth imitating by all persons similarly situated: and concluded oracularly: “Prophylaxis is preferable to therapeusis.”
“Or, as Porson would say, 'Prevention is better than cure.'”
With this parting blow the Oxonian suddenly sauntered away, unconscious, it seemed, of the existence of his companions.
“I never saw a plainer case of Incubation,” remarked Dr. Wycherley with vast benevolence of manner.
“Maxley's?”
“Oh, no; that is parochial. It is your profoundly interesting son I alluded to. Did you notice his supercilious departure? And his morbid celerity of repartee?”
Mr. Hardie replied with some little hesitation, “Yes; and, excuse me, I thought he had rather the best of the battle with you.”
“Indubitably so,” replied Dr. Wycherley: “they always do: at least such is my experience. If ever I break a lance of wit with an incubator! I calculate with confidence on being unhorsed with abnormal rapidity, and rare, indeed, are the instances in which my anticipations are not promptly and fully realised. By a similar rule of progression the incubator is seldom a match for the confirmed maniac, either in the light play of sarcasm, the coruscations of wit or the severer encounters of dialectical ratiocination.”
“Dear, dear, dear! Then how is one to know a genius from a madman?” inquired Jane.