Unfailing Barometer
"Because you want to be a heathen instead of the foremost lawyer of your time. Your ambition is an unfailing barometer."
He laughed lightly. This sort of banter was very pleasing to him after a day with the law books and an hour or more with his mother. He had known Barbara since they were children and their comradeship dated back to the mud-pie days.
"I don't know but what you're right," he said. "Whether I go to Congress or the Fiji Islands may depend, eventually, upon Judge Bascom's liver."
"Don't let it depend upon him," cautioned Barbara. "Make your own destiny. It was Napoleon, wasn't it, who prided himself upon making his own circumstances? What would you do—or be—if you could have your choice?"
Aspirations
"The best lawyer in the State," he answered, promptly. "I'd never oppose the innocent nor defend the guilty. And I'd have money enough to be comfortable and to make those I love comfortable."
"Would you marry?" she asked, thoughtfully.
"Why—I suppose so. It would seem queer, though."
"Roger," she said, abruptly, "you were born a year and more before I was, and yet you're fully ten or fifteen years younger."