Hugh's first experience of the "glorious old sherry" led him to a
discovery, which proved to be more important than he was disposed to
consider it at the moment. He merely observed, with some amusement,
that Mr. Vimpany smacked his lips in hearty approval of the worst
sherry that his guest had ever tasted. Here, plainly self-betrayed, was
a medical man who was an exception to a general rule in the
profession--here was a doctor ignorant of the difference between good
wine and bad!

Both the ladies were anxious to know how Mountjoy had passed the night
at the inn. He had only time to say that there was nothing to complain
of, when Mr. Vimpany burst into an explosion of laughter.

"Oh, but you must have had something to complain of!" said the big
doctor. "I would bet a hundred, if I could afford it, that the landlady
tried to poison you with her sour French wine."

"Do you speak of the claret at the inn, after having tasted it?"
Mountjoy asked.

"What do you take me for?" cried Mr. Vimpany. "After all I have heard
of that claret, I am not fool enough to try it myself, I can tell you."
Mountjoy received this answer in silence. The doctor's ignorance and
the doctor's prejudice, in the matter of wine, had started a new train
of thought in Hugh's mind, which threatened serious consequences to Mr.
Vimpany himself. There was a pause at the table; nobody spoke. The
doctor saw condemnation of his rudeness expressed in his wife's face.
He made a rough apology to Mountjoy, who was still preoccupied. "No
offence, I hope? It's in the nature of me, sir, to speak my mind. If I
could fawn and flatter, I should have got on better in my profession.