“And d’you think he swallowed the bait?” asked Lady Sophia.
“My dear, I wish you would not express yourself quite so brutally.”
“I often wonder if you humbug yourself as much as you humbug other people,” she replied, with a meditative smile.
Canon Spratte stared at her with astonishment, and answered with dignity.
“Upon my soul, I don’t know what you mean. I have always done my duty in that state of life in which it has pleased Providence to place me. And if I may say so without vanity, I have done it with pleasure to myself and with profit to mankind.”
“Ah, yes, you’re one of those men for whom the path of duty is always strewn with roses.”
“It’s my strength of character that makes it so,” said the Canon, blandly.
“It never seems odd to you that when there are two courses open, the right one should invariably be that which redounds to your personal advantage.”
“Some men, Sophia, are born to greatness; some men achieve greatness; others have greatness thrust upon them. It would be immodest in me to say which of these three more particularly applies to myself.”
The answer perhaps was not very apt to the occasion, but the observation was a favourite with Canon Spratte; and he made it with such a triumphant assurance that it sounded like a very crushing retort.