A melancholy smile passed over his face.
"Geoffrey, what a child you are! Listen to me. You have suffered this personal dislike to your uncle and his son to overtop, like some rank weed, every better growth of your mind; to destroy your moral integrity and mental advantages; to interfere with your studies, and prevent any beneficial result which might arise from your situation as clerk in this office. Is this wise?"
I remained obstinately silent.
"You are lengthening the term of your bondage, and riveting the fetters you are so anxious to break. Does not your uncle know this? Does he not laugh at your impotent efforts to break his yoke from off your neck? In one short year your articles will expire, and you will become a free agent. But, with the little knowledge you have gained of your profession, what would liberty do for you? Would it procure for you a better situation; establish your claims as a gentleman, or fill an empty purse?"
"Let the worst come to the worst, I could work for my bread."
"Not such an easy thing as you imagine."
"With health, strength and youth on my side, what should hinder me?"
"Your uncle's influence, which is very great. The world does not know him, as we know him. He is considered an upright, honourable man. One word from him would blast your character, and keep you out of every office in London."
I felt my cheeks grow pale. I had never seen matters in this light before. Still, I would not yield to the arguments of my friend. The obstinate spirit of the Monctons was in active operation just then, and would not submit to reason.
"There are more ways of earning a living than by following the profession of the law," said I doggedly.