“Pooh! nonsense,” said Eve; “they will only be too glad to take advantage of your good-nature.” “He is an orphan,” said David, doggedly. However, the lesson was given at Font Abbey, and after it Master Nelson came bounding into the drawing-room to the ladies. “Oh, Lucy, Mr. Dodd is such a beautiful geometrician! He has been giving me a lesson; he is going to give me one every day. He knows a great deal more than my last tutor.” On this Master Nelson was questioned, and revealed that a friendship existed between him and Mr. Dodd such as girls are incapable of (this was leveled at Lucy); being cross-examined as to the date of this friendship, he was obliged to confess that it had only existed four days, but was to last to death. “But, Arthur,” said Lucy, “will not this take up too much of Mr. Dodd's time? I think you had better consult Uncle Fountain before you make a positive arrangement of the kind.” “Oh, I have spoken to my guardian about it, and he was _so_ pleased. He said that would save him a mathematical tutor.” “Oh, then,” said Mrs. Bazalgette, “Mr. Dodd is to teach mathematics gratis.” “My friend is a gentleman,” was the timid reply. (Juveniles have a pomposity all their own, and exquisitely delicious.*) “We read together because we like one another, and that is why we walk together and play together; if we were to offer him money he would throw it at our heads.” Mr. Arthur then relaxed his severity, and, condescending once more to the familiar, added: “And he has made me a kite on mathematical principles--such a whacker--those in the shops are no use; and he has sent his mother's Bath chair on to the downs, and he is going to show me the kite draw him ten knots an hour in it--a knot means a mile, Lucy--so I can't stay wasting my time here; only, if you want to see some fun for once in your lives, come on the downs in about an hour--will you? Oh yes! do come!” * Read the Oxford Essays. “Certainly not,” said Mrs. Bazalgette, sharply. “Excuse us, dear,” said Lucy in the same breath. “Well, Lucy,” said Mrs. Bazalgette, “am I wrong about your uncle's selfishness! I have tried in vain ever since I came here to make you see it where _you_ were the only sufferer.” “Not quite in vain, aunt,” said Lucy sadly; “you have shown me defects in my poor uncle that I should never have discovered.” Mrs. Bazalgette smiled grimly. “Only, as you hate him, and I love him, and always mean to love him, permit me to call his defects 'thought-lessness.' _You_ can apply the harsh term 'selfish-ness' to the most good-natured, kind, indulgent--oh!” “Ha! ha! Don't cry, you silly girl. Thoughtless? a calculating old goose, who is eternally aiming to be a fox--never says or does anything without meaning something a mile off. Luckily, his veil is so thin that everybody sees through it but you. What do you think of his _thought-less-ness_ in getting a tutor gratis? Poor Mr. Dodd!”