"Father won't mind," she said.

"No, but I should." He said it in a tone which was meant to settle the
question.

She sat still, turning over the pages of the manuscript which she had
again taken on her lap.

"I suppose he is very dreadful. Still, I think we ought to do
something for him."

"And what would you propose to do?"

There was an irritating smile on her cousin's face. He was thinking,
"So she wants to patronize him, does she?"

He did not say what he thought; with Lucia that was unnecessary, for
she always knew. He only said, "I don't exactly see you playing
Beatrice to his Dante."

Lucia coloured, and Horace felt that he had been right. The Hardens
had always been patronizing; his mother and sister were the most
superbly patronizing women he knew. And Rickman might or might not be
a great man, but Lucia, even at three and twenty, was a great lady in
her way. Why shouldn't she patronize him, if she liked? And he smiled
again more irritatingly than ever. Nobody could be more irritating
than this Oxford don when he gave his mind to it.

"Lucy--if you only knew him, I don't think you'd suggest my bringing
him down here."