The Antiquary was a gentleman, as we have seen, in feeling, but blunt and careless in expression, from the habit of living with those before whom he had nothing to suppress. He attacked his noble guest without scruple on the severity of his regimen.
“A few half-cold greens and potatoes—a glass of ice-cold water to wash them down—antiquity gives no warrant for it, my lord. This house used to be accounted a hospitium, a place of retreat for Christians; but your lordship’s diet is that of a heathen Pythagorean, or Indian Bramin—nay, more severe than either, if you refuse these fine apples.”
“I am a Catholic, you are aware,” said Lord Glenallan, wishing to escape from the discussion, “and you know that our church”——
“Lays down many rules of mortification,” proceeded the dauntless Antiquary;
