“Indigestible, Hendon. But never mind. Work as I do. Get to the top of the tree, and then you can keep your carriage, and destroy your liver with Strasburg pie.”
“Bah!” said Hendon; but his father’s countenance did not change.
“Going to the hospital, my boy?”
“Yes, the old dismal round. But to allay suffering. A great profession.”
“Wish it had less profession and more solid satisfaction!” said the young man. “Good-bye, Rich.”
He hurried out of the room, and the next minute the door was heard to bang.
“An ornament to the profession some day, Richmond.”
“Yes, dear, but—”
“Well, my love?” said the doctor, beaming upon her softly.
“Don’t think me unkind, dear, now you are so deep in your study; but I do really want a little help.”