"I really don't know."
"Because his sycophancy has its source in το δέος, fear," replied Vyner, delighted at the joke.
"Good!" said Cecil, laughing. "I accept the derivation: the irony is perfect, as a toad is the very last creature to accuse of sycophancy; he spits upon the world in an unbiassed and exasperating impartiality: hence the name. One of the things which has most struck me," he continued, "is the occasional urbanity of language—instance the word question for torture."
"Like Astyages in Herodotus," said Vyner, "politely counselling the herdsman not to desire to proceed to necessities, εϛ ταϛ ανάγκαϛ, which the man perfectly understands to mean torture. Consider, also, the changes which take place in words. 'Virtue' originally meant manliness. The Greek word αρετη is obviously derived from Ares (Mars), and meant martialness; it has now degenerated into virtù, a taste for cameos and pictures; and into virtue, woman's fairest quality, but the farthest removed from martial excellence."
"This is all vewy ingenious, pewhaps," said Tom Wincot; "but let us go to the ladies, and hear their theowies."
They rose from table. Vyner in evidently better disposition towards Cecil than he had been since the last Horatian discussion; Maxwell dull and stupid as ever; Captain Heath silent and reflective.
CHAPTER XIV.
JEALOUSY.
O, my lord, beware of jealousy.
It is a green-eyed monster that doth mock
The food it eats on.
Othello.
A bright smile from Blanche welcomed Cecil, as he passed from the dining-room to the drawing-room, and walked up to the piano at which she was sitting. He thought he had never seen her look so lovely; perhaps the remembrance of his having contemplated giving her up made him more sensible of her charms.