“You must think it awfully funny—my dropping in, in this way,” he said, recovering the self-possession which naturally belonged to his character. “The fact is, I was going to dine out, and at the last minute the people sent to tell me not to come, because they’ve had a little fire in the dining-room, and everything’s flooded and uncomfortable, and they were going to picnic somewhere—or something. So I dined at the club, and I’m going to see the last act of that play with the horses in it, you know—so I thought you wouldn’t mind if I asked leave to spend half an hour with you on the way.”
“Why, of course not!” cried Mrs. Bright. “I’m delighted. You must help us to amuse Katharine. She’s rather gloomy, poor child—with her arm, and all she’s been through. She was staying with poor Mr. Lauderdale when he died so suddenly.”
“Yes—it’s awfully sad,” answered Wingfield, with appropriate solemnity, and wondering whether he should congratulate the Brights upon the inheritance. “As for amusing Miss Lauderdale,” he continued, “I wish I could. But I’m not a very amusing person—not a bit.”
“Perhaps we can amuse you, instead,” suggested Katharine, by way of saying something.
“Oh, no—thanks—you’re very kind,” answered the young man, confusedly. “You know my brothers always call me the family idiot. They’re always chaffing me because I don’t know languages and things. I say, Bright—you’re clever—do you know a lot of languages?”
“I? No, indeed!” answered Bright, with a short laugh. “I don’t know anything particular—except about cattle and horses, and something about banking. I’ve had a modern education! How should I know anything?”
“Oh, hang it all—I mean—I beg your pardon—but what a thing to say!”
“It’s mere nonsense,” observed Mrs. Bright. “Ham knows everything in a useful way. But he’s always railing at modern education, and telling me that it’s ruined his mind. He’s not sensible about that. Really you’re not, Ham,” she added, with emphasis.
“Education’s meant for the common herd, mother,” answered Bright. “Fools are better without it, bankers don’t need it, and geniuses can do better.”
“That’s rather good,” said Katharine, thoughtfully. “With which do you class yourself?” she asked, with a laugh.