“By the way, Gerald, what do you intend to make of yourself when you get through with your course?” he inquired to-night, as he closed his book after the last recitation, and bent an inquiring look on the handsome face before him.
“I think—since I am so well started in the banking business, I shall stick to it, learn it thoroughly, and, if fortune favors me, perhaps become a banker myself, by and by,” he replied, but with a smile at his egotism in aspiring to a position such as Adam Brewster occupied.
Professor Emerson eyed him curiously for a moment, then remarked:
“You’ll achieve it, if you undertake it, and, rightly conducted, banking is a good business; still, I wish you might go a little higher, intellectually—you would make a fine lawyer, your mental grasp is so keen and accurate.”
“Thank you,” said Gerald, flushing at the compliment, “but it would take me several years to prepare for the bar, after completing my college course, and, since I have my own canoe to paddle, I think I will adhere to what I have begun. I wish, though,” he added gravely, as his mind suddenly reverted to John Hubbard, “I have time to become thoroughly posted in law, and could combine the two, for then I should always be sure of the faithfulness of my legal adviser.”
“Why, Winchester! I did not suppose you possessed so suspicious a nature!” said his friend, smiling, but with a note of surprise in his tones. “If every one was governed by such distrust I fear the lawyers would fare hard.”
“I am not naturally suspicious,” replied Gerald, reddening, “and my remark must seem narrow and intolerant to you; it was prompted by the fact that one lawyer whom I know is anything but an honest and conscientious man.”
“But, ‘one swallow does not make a summer,’ my boy,” retorted his friend, laughing.
“I know it, sir, and I have no business to be suspicious of all men because of one man’s failings. I will try to be more charitable toward lawyers in the future,” said the young man, as he rose to leave.