I
_quite_ understand. We'll consider the whole thing erased from our
memories. Go on studying for the Bar with all your might, if you
must take up so barren a profession and won't become my pupil in
biology--Great openings, I can tell you, coming now in that
direction." (A pause.)
"But if it's of any interest to you, just come here as often as you
like in your spare time--either to tea with Mrs. Rossiter or to see
me at work on my experiments. I've taken a great liking to you, if
you'll allow me to say so. I think there's good stuff in you. A
young man reading for the Bar in London is none the worse for a few
friends. He must often feel pretty lonely on a Sunday, for example.
And he may also--now I'm going to be impertinent and paternal
again--he may also pick up undesirable acquaintances, male--and
female. Don't you get feeling lonely, with your home far away in
Wales. Consider yourself free of this place at any rate, and my wife
and I can introduce you to some other people you might like to know.
I might introduce you to Mark Stansfield the Q.C. Do you know any
one in London, by the bye?"
"Oh yes," said David, smiling with all but one tear dried on a still
coloured cheek. "I know Honoria Fraser--I know Mr. Praed the
architect--"
"The A.R.A.? Of course; you or your father said you had
been his pupil. H'm. Praed. Yes, I visualize him.
Pages:
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126