Not that relatives were the best to be making assessments. Mr Timberland had recently declared his daughter to be mad, and with her all the other daughters of academics, reeling off an entire list in support of his claim. It was hard to argue against, but then none of the academic fathers involved were pinnacles of sanity either. The Cow wisely chose not to comment.
Mr Timberland was particularly grumpy because the previous day had been ruined by a Precious Princess. Who, aside from other cardinal sins, had presumed to address him by his first name - a mistake soon pointed out to her. Mr Timberland was in no mood to be equated with a Precious Princess. He yearned to be elsewhere, where age was shown due deference, and where nubile young students offered sexual favours.
The Cow couldn't quite see it. She wasn't sure Mr Timberland would know what to do with a sexual favour if offered one - aside from, if he recognised it as such, blushing and rushing off to have himself tested against possible airborne disease. But she wasn't about to ruin his fantasy.
In the absence of deferent nubiles, it was all he had to cling to.