Fred Vivian had not been informed of the plan which his father had in view for him. Mr. Vivian, however, felt confident that it would be agreeable to his son, and did not wish to speak of it until he had ascertained Gilbert’s willingness.
At dinner, after the interview described in the last chapter, Mr. Vivian for the first time mentioned the matter.
“What lessons have you to-night, Fred?” he asked.
“I have my Latin, and some hard sums in Reduction.”
“How are you getting on in Latin?”
“I wish you would let me give it up, father,” said Fred, earnestly. “I believe it was only got up to trouble school-boys.”
“I suppose,” said his father, smiling, “you think Cæsar, Virgil, and Cicero only wrote with the same purpose.”
“Confound them! Why couldn’t they write in English?” said Fred, petulantly.
All at the table laughed, and finally Fred himself joined in.
“I suspect the Roman boys would have found as much trouble with English as you find with Latin,” said Mr. Vivian. “As a fact, there was no such language in existence then as our modern English tongue.”