“It is enough; for he would not have sent for her if he could not maintain her.”
Here the Hazeldeans entered, arm-in-arm, and the fat butler announced dinner.
The Squire was unusually taciturn—Mrs. Hazeldean thoughtful—Mrs. Dale languid, and headachy. The Parson, who seldom enjoyed the luxury of converse with a scholar, save when he quarreled with Dr. Riccabocca, was animated, by Randal’s repute for ability, into a great desire for argument.
“A glass of wine, Mr. Leslie. You were saying, before dinner, that burlesque Greek is not a knowledge very much in power at present. Pray, sir, what knowledge is in power?”
Randal (laconically).—“Practical knowledge.”
Parson.—“What of?”
Randal.—“Men.”
Parson (candidly).—“Well, I suppose that is the most available sort of knowledge, in a worldly point of view. How does one learn it? Do books help?”
Randal.—“According as they are read, they help or injure.”
Parson.—“How should they be read in order to help?”