Part 74 (1/2)
”I ought to know as much of both as he does!” he said.
”Ought perhaps! But you know you do not.”
”I know enough to be your tutor.”
”Yes, but I know enough not to be your pupil!”
”What do you mean?”
”That you can't teach.”
”How do you know that?”
”Because you do not love either Greek or mathematics, and no one who does not love can teach.” ”That is nonsense! If I don't love Greek enough to teach it, I love you enough to teach you,” said Forgue.
”You are my riding-master,” said Arctura; ”Mr. Grant is my master in Greek.”
Forgue strangled an imprecation on Mr. Grant, and tried to laugh, but there was not a laugh inside him.
”Then you won't ride to-day?” he said.
”I think not,” replied Arctura.
She ought to have said she would not. It is a pity to let doubt alight on decision. Her reply re-opened the whole question.
”I cannot see what should induce you to allow that fellow the honour of reading with you!” said Forgue. ”He's a long-winded, pedantic, ill-bred lout!”
”Mr. Grant is my friend!” said Arctura, and raising her head looked him in the eyes.
”Take my word for it, you are mistaken in him,” he said.
”I neither value nor ask your opinion of him,” returned Arctura. ”I merely acquaint you with the fact that he is my friend.”
”Here's the devil and all to pay!” thought Forgue.
”I beg your pardon,” he said: ”you do not know him as I do!”
”Not?--and with so much better opportunity of judging!”
”He has never played the dominie with you!” said Forgue foolishly.
”Indeed he has!”
”He has! Confound his insolence! How?”
”He won't let me study as I want.--How has he interfered with you?”
”We won't quarrel about him,” rejoined Forgue, attempting a tone of gaiety, but instantly growing serious. ”We who ought to be so much to each other--”
Something told him he had already gone too far.