“Still it is not necessary to be a big fool, sir, because you are an M. A.,” said Philip, always mildly, but with a sigh. “It is a great advantage to a man; I wish I had it. I know what you will say, better men than I have not had it; but just because I am not a better man—”
For the first time old Trevor broke into his habitual chuckle.
“Give him some tea, Lucy,” he said. “I suppose you’re one of the fashionable kind, and have your dinner when I used to have my supper. That’s not the way to thrive, my lad.”
“What does it matter whether you call it dinner or supper, sir?” said Philip; “and, pardon me, don’t you do the same?”
“It makes a deal of difference,” said the old man. “Parents like to hear that you have your tea at six o’clock, and your supper at nine, like themselves. They don’t like you to give yourself airs, as if you were better than they are. You’re a clever fellow, Philip Rainy, and you think you are getting on like a house on fire. But you’re a fool all the same.”
“Papa, I wish you would not be so uncivil,” said Lucy, who had yet taken no part in their talk.
“I tell you he’s a fool all the same. I kept Kent’s Lane a-going for thirty years, and I ought to know. I’ve taught the best men in the town. Oxford fellows, and Cambridge fellows, and all sorts, have come to me for their mathematics, though I never had a degree; and I eat my dinner at two, and my tea at six as regular as clock-work all the time. That’s the way to do, if you mean to keep it up all your life, and lay by a little money, and leave the place to your son after you. If Jock had been older that’s what I should have made him do; that is the way to succeed in Kent’s Lane.”
There was a little pause after this, for Philip was a little angry too, and had not command for the moment of that soft word of which he made so determined a use; and at the same time he was resolved not to quarrel with Lucy’s father. He said, after a while, in as easy a tone as he could assume:
“I wish you would let me have Jock. He is old enough for school now, and whatever you want to do with him I could always begin his education; of course, you will give him every advantage—”
“I will give him as good as I had myself, Philip, and as you had. Do you think I am going to take Lucy’s money for that child? Not a penny! He shall be bred up according to his own rank in life; and by the time he’s a man, you’ll have grown too grand for the old place, and you can hand it over to him.”