“The law!” he exclaimed sharply.
“Why, yes, sir. I know that you were disappointed because I did not do sufficiently well at school to go to college and study for the bar.”
I felt indeed a momentary pang, but I remembered that I was fighting for my freedom.
“You seemed satisfied where you were,” he said in a puzzled voice, “and your Cousin Robert gives a good account of you.”
“I've tried to do the work as well as I could, sir,” I replied. “But I don't like the grocery business, or any other business. I have a feeling that I'm not made for it.”
“And you think, now, that you are made for the law?” he asked, with the faint hint of a smile.
“Yes, sir, I believe I could succeed at it. I'd like to try,” I replied modestly.
“You've given up the idiotic notion of wishing to be an author?”
I implied that he himself had convinced me of the futility of such a wish. I listened to his next words as in a dream.
“I must confess to you, Hugh, that there are times when I fail to understand you. I hope it is as you say, that you have arrived at a settled conviction as to your future, and that this is not another of those caprices to which you have been subject, nor a desire to shirk honest work. Mr. Wood has made out a strong case for you, and I have therefore determined to give you a trial. If you pass the examinations with credit, you may go to college, but if at any time you fail to make good progress, you come home, and go into business again. Is that thoroughly understood?”