“Would you have preferred some other profession?” she asked gently, venturing to join in the conversation.
“I never thought about it,” said Boy, eating his fish now that it was picked and prepared to his particular liking. “When I came back from France, father sent me just where he chose—— and—that’s how it is.”
“Then you don’t really care about it, perhaps?” queried Miss Letty, determined to get something out of him somehow concerning his tastes or aversions. “You don’t really love the work of preparing for the Army?”
“Oh, I don’t think any of the fellows care much about the work,” said Boy carelessly—“you couldn’t expect them to love work! You see they do just what their fathers and mothers want them to do. Some chaps have a choice, I believe—but I don’t know any. It’s no good saying you want to be one thing when your father wants you to be something else.”
Major Desmond listened attentively, and his eyes, twinkling with anger a moment before, softened a little.
“What did you want to be?—if ever you did want to be anything?” he asked.
Boy hesitated and shuffled his feet under the table. Miss Letty looked at him anxiously,—so did Violet. Catching Miss Letty’s loving glance, he took courage.
“When I was quite a small chap like,—” he explained stammeringly, “I used to think I would be an explorer. I wanted to travel a long long way off to strange countries, and find things nobody had ever found.”
He checked himself abruptly. The waiter was handing round new dishes to tempt the appetite, and Boy had to choose between ‘vol-au-vent,’ and ‘cotelettes d’agneau, points d’asperges.’
“Well,” said the Major—“that wasn’t a bad idea. There’s nothing to prevent your doing that still. A soldier can be an explorer as well.”