VII
“IF that boy had lived—which he didn’t,” reflected the lord of Strathfieldsaye as he opened carefully the fresh painted gate of his own demesne, “I’d like him to have been educated at Rugby.”
Lawyer Mossop had been educated at Rugby. Somehow that gentleman always left in the mind of this shrewd, oddly perceptive client an impression of being “just right,” of not having anything in excess. His reputation in Blackhampton was very high. Just as Dr. Perrin had been for years its leading physician, Mr. Mossop had been for years its leading lawyer. To be a patient of the one, a client of the other, almost conferred a diploma of merit. Not only was it a proof in itself of social standing, an ability “to pay for the best,” but it also expressed a knowledge, greatly valued by the elect, that the best was worth paying for. Josiah was a firm believer in that maxim.
Still ... he closed the gate of Strathfieldsaye as carefully as he had opened it ... when all was said education was dangerous. Up to a point a good thing, no doubt. You couldn’t be a Lawyer Mossop without it. But it was like vaccination: some people it suited, others it didn’t.
There was a trim slight figure coming down the path, in a hat not without pretensions to fashion.
“Leaving us, Gert?” said Josiah. “Better stop to supper.”
Miss Preston reluctantly declined the invitation.