“But you haven’t settled it, Adrian,” said Lucilla mildly.
“That is why we all want to help you, if possible,” the Canon observed. “Perhaps you may remember some words that I am very fond of, and that have found their way now and again into our pleasant confabulations on life and letters in general:
There comes a tide in the affairs of men
That, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.
“There is, indeed, a higher Leading that I trust, and indeed know, you would none of you disregard, but opportunity may very often serve us as an indication—an indication. It seems to me, dear Adrian, that some such ‘tide’ has come in your affairs now, and it would be pleasant indeed to feel that, taken at the flood, it would lead on to fortune, in the best and highest sense of the word.”
There was a pause, and then Mr. Clover said:
“Or at least independence.”
“That’s what I want,” said Adrian ungraciously. “Only never having been brought up to anything special, it’s a bit hard to know what to go in for.”
“You said something about journalism,” Lucilla reminded him, aware that the word, which would certainly be distasteful to the Canon, must be uttered sooner or later.
Adrian looked at his sister, and not at his father, as he replied: