“Yes, I did.”

Jacob broke the silence.

“How does he get on with his painting?” he asked—­and it sounded very much as though the reference were to a man busy on the front door.

“He’s never likely to be very popular,” replied Spence, adapting his remarks to the level of his guests’ understanding.  “There was something of his in this year’s Academy, and it sold at a tolerable price.”

“That thing of his that I bought, you remember—­I find people don’t see much in it.  They complain that the colour’s so dull.  But then, as I always say, what else could you expect on a bit of Yorkshire moor in winter?  Is he going to paint anything here?  Now, if he’d do me a bit of the bay, with Vesuvius smoking.”

“That would be something like!” assented Mrs. Bradshaw.

When the ladies had left the dining-room, Mr. Bradshaw, over his cigarette, reverted to the subject of Cecily.

“I suppose the lass has had a first-rate education?”

“Of the very newest fashion for girls.  I am told she reads Latin.”

“By Jove!” cried the other, with sudden animation.  “That reminds me of something I wanted to talk about.  When I was leaving Manchester, I got together a few hooks, you know, that were likely to be useful over here.  My friend Lomax, the bookseller, suggested them.  ’Got a classical dictionary?’ says he.  ‘Not I!’ As you know, my schooling never went much beyond the three R’s, and hanged if I knew what a classical dictionary was.  ‘Better take one,’ says Lomax.  ’You’ll want to look up your gods and goddesses.’  So I took it, and I’ve been looking into it these last few days.”

“Well?”

Jacob had a comical look of perplexity and indignation.  He thumped the table.

“Do you mean to tell me that’s the kind of stuff boys are set to learn at school?”

“A good deal of it comes in.”

“Then all I can say is, no wonder the colleges turn out such a lot of young blackguards.  Why, man, I could scarcely believe my eyes!  You mean to say that, if I’d had a son, he’d have been brought up on that kind of literature, and without me knowing anything about it?  Why, I’ve locked the book up; I was ashamed to let it lay on the table.”

“It’s the old Lempriere, I suppose,” said Spence, vastly amused.  “The new dictionaries are toned down a good deal; they weren’t so squeamish in the old days.”

“But the lads still read the books these things come out of, eh?”

“Oh yes.  It has always been one of the most laughable inconsistencies in English morality.  Anything you could find in the dictionary is milk for babes compared with several Greek plays that have to be read for examinations.”

“It fair caps me, Spence!  Classical education that is, eh?  That’s what parsons are bred on?  And, by the Lord, you say they’re beginning it with girls?”

“Very zealously.”

“Nay—!”