"Birds of a feather," he said decisively. "I don't think much of Beaumont, Blake, and if this Dr. Nestley is his friend, I'm afraid he's not much good."
"That is severe, papa," said Pumpkin.
"My dear," replied her father emphatically. "I hope I am the last man in the world to speak ill of my fellow creatures, but I am afraid that Basil Beaumont is not a good man--you can hardly call him 'integer vitæ,'--I knew him before he left the parish, and even then his nature was not all that could be desired, but now his worst traits of character have become developed in the pernicious atmosphere of London life, and as I am the guardian of three youths whose minds are naturally open to seductive influences it is but right that I should take a severe view of the matter; if Basil Beaumont became the companion of my pupils I should tremble for the result--ille dies utramque ducet ruinam."
"But Dr. Nestley, papa?"
"As to Doctor Nestley," said the vicar majestically, "I do not yet know him--when I do, I will be in a position to judge of his character--but like draws to like and I fear--I fear sadly," finished Dr. Larcher shaking his head sagaciously, "that no one of strictly upright principles can be an intimate friend of Basil Beaumont's."
"I don't think they are very intimate friends," said Reggy thoughtfully, "rather the opposite."
"Ah, indeed," replied Dr. Larcher, "well, well, we shall see; however--non hæc jocosæ conveniunt lyræ--you can go over to the Grange, Blake, and inquire after the Squire's health."
At this moment a tapping was heard on the floor above which signified that Mrs. Larcher required some little attention, whereupon Pumpkin left the room with alacrity in order to see what "The Affliction" wanted. Left alone with the vicar Reggy was about to retire, when Dr. Larcher stopped him.
"By the way, Blake," he said gravely, "I wish to speak to you on a serious subject."
Reggy flushed red and bowed without saying a word, as he intuitively guessed what was coming.