"I dare say she has."
"And, if Uncle Francis comes in for that money, I should think he would make over half of it to you. I should, were I in his place."
"Ah, Frank," smiled the doctor, "people are not so chivalrously generous in this world; even brothers."
"I should call it justice, not generosity, sir."
"If you come to talk of justice, you would also be entitled to your share, as Henry's son. He was equally her brother."
"But I don't expect anything of the kind," said Frank. "Provided I have enough to set me up in practice, that's all I care for."
"You would not have that until your aunt dies."
"To be sure not. I am not expecting it before. But what has struck me is this, Uncle Hugh—I have been turning the thing over in my mind as I walked home—that I might, without any dishonour, reckon upon the money now."
"In what way? How do you mean?"
"Suppose I go to some old-established man in London who, from some cause or other—advancing years, say—requires some one to relieve him of a portion of his daily work. I say to him, 'Will you take me at present as your assistant, at a fair salary, and when I come into my money'—naming the sum—'I will hand that over to you and become your partner?' Don't you think that seems feasible, sir?"