"I suppose you are right," he said in a lugubrious voice. And then he added, "There's another trouble, too. How am I to get my living?"
"You'll find that out fast enough when you become acquainted with hunger," she said with a laugh.
"But if I don't go into my father's business, God only knows what I can do. I don't seem to be fitted for anything in particular."
"I wouldn't worry about that, either," she replied. "There's very few men do the things they think they're fitted for; but they find out how to do other things that are just as important. There's Bundy, now; you'll never guess what he thought himself fitted for when I married him."
"Well, what?"
"A clergyman."
Arthur laughed profanely. The thought of the nefarious Bundy, whose life had been spent in the promotion of companies of a singular collapsibility, as a clergyman was too ridiculous.
"Ah! you may laugh, but let me tell you he'd have made a first-rate parson if he'd gone to college, and started fair."
She spoke with heat, which immediately passed into laughter, as she caught a glimpse of the whimsicality of the thing.
"Ye canna' say Bundy has not a fine flow of language when he chooses, and he can look as solemn as a bishop, and I'm sure he would have had a fine bedside manner," she continued. "But my belief is that a man who can do one thing well can do any other thing just as well."