“I think that’s really what I shall do.”
“But who is going to employ you, Adrian?” Flora enquired with simplicity.
The boy frowned.
“You don’t understand these things. I shall just get up one or two things, and show them to the right people, and if they’re any good at all I shall get taken on somewhere.”
“The Press is a great force for good as, alas, for evil, my son, but I confess that such a course would be a disappointment to me. Have you no other ambition?” asked the Canon wistfully.
“I can’t think of anything else, Father.”
“I thought—” breathed Flora to Lucilla.
Lucilla shook her head, in repudiation of Adrian’s erstwhile schemes of clerical life, and she heard from Flora a sigh that probably denoted relief.
“Then, my dearest fellow, so be it. You know that we wish nothing but your highest good, and your happiness here and hereafter. I will increase your present allowance as far as I can do so without robbing others, and that should enable you to maintain yourself in London until you are earning enough to dispense with it. Have you any definite starting point in your mind?”
“Not yet, but I can write to a fellow I know. I say, Father—this is very good of you.”