I have had my
own way to carve in life, and if I have as yet made small progress, I
have fought against terrible odds."
"I wonder you don't set up in a professional career," said Mr.
Eversleigh; "you have finished your education; obtained your degree.
What are you waiting for?"
"I am waiting for my chances," answered Victor; "I don't care to begin
the jog-trot career in which other men toil for twenty years or so,
before they attain anything like prosperity. I have studied as few men
of five-and-twenty have studied,--chemistry as well as surgery. I can
afford to wait my chances. I pick up a few pounds a week by writing for
the medical journals, and with that resource and occasional luck with
cards, I can very easily support the simple home in which my mother and
I live. In the meantime, I am free, and believe me, my dear Reginald,
there is nothing so precious as freedom."
"And you will not desert me now that I am down in the world, eh, old
fellow?"
"No, Reginald, I will never desert you while you have the chance of
succeeding to forty thousand a year," answered the surgeon, with a
laugh.
His small black eyes flashed and sparkled as he laughed. Reginald
looked at him with a sensation that was almost fear.
"What a fellow you are, Carrington!" he exclaimed; "you don't pretend
even to have a heart."
"A heart is a luxury which a poor man must dispense with," answered
Victor, with perfect _sang froid_.
Pages:
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102