Mrs. Holloway, the silly lady, during that part of the conversation from which she might have acquired some knowledge, had retired to the further end of the room to a game at trictrac with an obsequious chaplain. Her game being finished, she came up to hear what the crowd round the sofa could be talking about; and hearing Charles ask the opinions of the gentlemen about the necessity of learning Latin, she nodded sagaciously at Mrs. Howard, and, by way of making up for former errors, said to Charles, in the most authoritative tone,—
“Yes, I can assure you, Mr. Charles, I am quite of the gentlemen’s opinion, and so is every body—and this is a point upon which I have some right to speak; for my Augustus, who is only a year and seven months older than you are, sir, is one of the best scholars of his age, I am told, in England. But then, to be sure, it was flogged into him well at first, at a public school, which, I understand, is the best way of making good scholars.”
“And the best way of making boys love literature?” said Mrs. Howard.
“Certainly, certainly,” said Mrs. Holloway, who mistook Mrs. Howard’s tone of inquiry for a tone of assertion, a tone more familiar to her—“certainly, ma’am, I knew you would come round to my notions at last. I’m sure my Augustus must be fond of his Latin, for never in the vacations did I ever catch him with any English book in his hand!”
“Poor boy!” said Charles, with unfeigned compassion, “And when, my dear Mrs. Howard,” continued Mrs. Holloway, laying her hand upon Mrs. Howard’s arm, with a yet untasted pinch of snuff between her fingers, “when will you send Mr. Charles to school?”
“Oh, aunt, don’t send me away from you—Oh, sir! Mr. Russell, try me—I will do my very, very best, without having it flogged into me, to learn Latin—only try me.”
“Dear sir, I really beg your pardon,” said Mrs. Holloway to Mr. Russell; “I absolutely only meant to support Mrs. Howard’s opinion for the sweet boy’s good; and I thought I saw you go out of the room, or somebody else went out, whilst I was at trictrac. But I’m convinced a private tutor may do wonders at the same time; and if my Augustus prejudiced me in favour of public education, you’ll excuse a mother’s partiality. Besides, I make it a rule never to interfere in the education of my boys. Mr. Holloway is answerable for them; and if he prefer public schools to a private tutor, you must be sensible, sir, it would be very wrong in me to set my poor judgment in opposition to Mr. Holloway’s opinion.”
Mr. Russell bowed; for, when a lady claims a gentleman’s assent to a series of inconsistent propositions, what answer can he make but—a bow? Mrs. Holloway’s carriage was now at the door, and, without troubling herself any further about the comparative merits of public and private education, she departed.
When Mrs. Howard was left alone with her nephew, she seized the moment, while his mind was yet warm, to make a lasting impression. Charles, instead of going to Buffon’s account of the elephant, which he was very impatient to read, sat down resolutely to his Latin lesson. Mrs. Howard looked over his shoulder, and when he saw her smile of approbation, he said, “Then you won’t send me away from you?”
“Not unless you oblige me to do so,” said his aunt: “I love to have you with me, and I will try for one year whether you have energy enough to learn what is disagreeable to you, without—”