“Pray do so by all means,” said Mr. W. P. Walkinshaw, with a bland encouragement.
“It occurs to me, sir,” said Mr. Dodson, “that William Jordan, Junior’s—ah, shortness of measure may be due to greenness, as one might say.”
“Your metaphor is a little mixed, Dodson,” said Mr. Walter Pater Walkinshaw affably, “but I think your meaning is sufficiently clear. You would say he lacks experience of life?”
“That is it, sir, exactly,” said Mr. Dodson, “that is just what I wanted to say. My private impression is that his education has been seriously neglected.”
“That is a serious indictment, Mr. Dodson,” said Mr. W. P. Walkinshaw gravely. “A very serious indictment.”
“It would be, sir, in the case of another, I am free to confess,” said Mr. Dodson, with a guile that would have embellished the primeval serpent; “but then, you see, sir, in spite of ed-u-ca-tional disadvantages, Nature has thought fit to reserve a point in favour of William Jordan, Junior.”
“Ah,” said Mr. W. P. Walkinshaw, “what, pray, is the point that Nature has reserved in his favour?”
“William Jordan, Junior, may not be a scholar,” said Mr. Dodson, speaking with the calm humility of those who have served their novitiate to the mysteries, “but, in the best sense of the word, sir, he is a gentleman.”
“Ah,” said Mr. W. P. Walkinshaw, with a sudden accession of interest to his eminently serious and somewhat melancholy eyes, “that is interesting; one is glad to know that.”
“Yes, sir,” said Mr. Dodson with quiet confidence, for unmistakably he was well on the target; “whatever young Jordan is, or whatever he is not, he can’t help being a gentleman.”