"Rather they are a luxury," said Bateman.
"No," answered Campbell, "not a luxury; a luxury is in its very idea a something recherché. Thus Horace speaks of the 'peregrina lagois.' What nature yields sponte suâ around you, however delicious, is no luxury. Wild ducks are no luxury in your old neighbourhood, amid your Oxford fens, Bateman; nor grapes at Naples."
"Then the old women here are luxurious over their sixpenn'rth of tea," said Bateman; "for it comes from China."
Campbell was posed for an instant. Somehow neither he nor Bateman were quite at their ease, whether with themselves or with each other; it might be Charles's sudden intrusion, or something which had happened before it. Campbell answered at length that steamers and railroads were making strange changes; that time and place were vanishing, and price would soon be the only measure of luxury.
"This seems the measure also of grasso and magro food in Italy," said Willis; "for I think there are dispensations for butcher's meat in Lent, in consequence of the dearness of bread and oil."
"This seems to show that the age for abstinences and fastings is past," observed Campbell; "for it's absurd to keep Lent on beef and mutton."
"Oh, Campbell, what are you saying?" cried Bateman; "past! are we bound by their lax ways in Italy?"
"I do certainly think," answered Campbell, "that fasting is unsuitable to this age, in England as well as in Rome."
"Take care, my fine fellows," thought Charles; "keep your ranks, or you won't secure your prisoner."
"What, not fast on Friday!" cried Bateman; "we always did so most rigidly at Oxford."