This was a bait Beatrice could not resist.

She might dread or even detest Mr.
Davies, but she loved his books, and if she quarrelled with him her well of knowledge would simply run dry, for there were no circulating libraries at Bryngelly, and if there had been she could not have afforded to subscribe to them.

So she remained on good terms with him, and even smiled at his futile attempts to keep pace with her studies.
Poor man, reading did not come naturally to him; he was much better at cutting leaves.

He studied the _Times_ and certain religious works, that was all.

But he wrestled manfully with many a detested tome, in order to be able to say something to Beatrice about it, and the worst of it was that Beatrice always saw through it, and showed him that she did.