“My father was ignorant,” said Felix, bluntly.  “I know something about these things.  I was ’prentice for five miserable years to a stupid brute of a country apothecary—­my poor father left money for that—­he thought nothing could be finer for me.  No matter:  I know that the Cathartic Pills may be as bad as poison to half the people who swallow them, and that the cancer cure might as well be bottled ditch-water.  I can keep my mother, as well, nay, better, than she keeps herself.  With my watch and clock cleaning, and teaching one or two little chaps that I’ve got to come to me, I can earn enough.”

Mr. Lyon’s suggestion that some situation might be obtained as clerk or assistant was brushed aside.

“Why should I want to get into the middle class because I have some learning?  The most of the middle class are as ignorant as the working people about everything that doesn’t belong to their own Brummagem life.”

The entrance of Lyddy with the tea tray disturbed the conversation, but the minister, interested in his visitor, asked Felix to stay for a dish of tea, and Felix accepted.

“My daughter, who has been detained in giving a lesson in the French tongue, has doubtless returned now,” said the minister.  On the entrance of the young lady, Felix was conscious she was not the sort of person he had expected the minister’s daughter to be, and the incongruity repelled him.  There were things about her, her walk, the long neck and high crown of shining brown hair, that suggested a fine lady to him.  A fine lady was always a sort of spun glass affair; but a fine lady as the daughter of this rusty old Puritan was especially offensive.

The discovery that Miss Lyon read Byron set Felix off on a tirade against the poet, and his works, and throughout the meal no agreement on any topic seemed possible between Esther and the guest.

Felix noted that Mr. Lyon was devoted to his daughter and stood in some fear of her.

“That is a singular young man, Esther,” said the minister, when Felix had gone.  “I discern in him a love for whatever things are honest and true, and I feel a great enlargement in his presence.”

“I think he is very coarse and rude,” said Esther, with a touch of temper.  “But he speaks better English than most of our visitors.  What is his occupation?”

“Watch and clock making, my dear.”

Esther was disappointed, she thought he was something higher than that.

Felix on his side wondered how the queer old minister had a daughter so little in his own likeness.  He decided that nothing should make him marry.

II.—­The Election Riot

The return of Mr. Harold Transome, to Transome Court, after fifteen years’ absence, and his adoption as Radical Candidate for the county created no little stir and excitement in Treby.  It also assisted the growing intimacy between Mr. Lyon and Felix Holt, for though neither possessed votes in that memorable year 1832, they shared the same liberal sympathies.  Perhaps the most delightful friendships are those in which there is much agreement, much disputation, and yet more personal liking; and the advent of the public-spirited, contradictory, yet affectionate Felix, into Treby life had made a welcome epoch to the minister.