Jack looked up at her now with glowing, happy face.
"Oh yes, indeed, grandma!"
"And what have you thought of?—the church?"
"Oh no, grandma."
"But think of the honour and glory of serving Him even in this world, and the richness of the reward hereafter. Think of our minister, the Rev. Titus M'Thump. He has ere now been honoured by dining even with royalty."
"I daresay I'm not good enough," said Jack simply.
"Well, child, the law affords facilities for rising to eminence in the world. Mr. Dawson, my own solicitor, is both a great and a good man. But," she added, as Jack did not reply, "how would you like to be a leech?"
Jack looked up astonished, with eyes about as big as billiard-balls. He had seen Malony apply a leech once to his sister's neck when she was ill of quinsy, and did not know that "leech" was the old name for physician.
"A leech, grandma! a nasty, black, creepie-crawlie, blood-sucking leech! Oh no, grandma. You are making fun, aren't you?"
"Well," said the old dame gravely, "you are quite right. I don't care for the profession myself. Your strictures on the leech are probably somewhat severe, however. I had one to dine with me a few months back, and really he seemed fairly intelligent."