me?" he said....

Never had I been more impressed, more bewildered by his self-command
than at that time. Save for the fact that my mother talked less than
usual, supper passed as though nothing had happened. Whether I had
shaken him, disappointed him, or gained his reluctant approval I
could not tell. Gradually his outward calmness turned my suspense to
irritation....

But when at length we were alone together, I gained a certain
reassurance. His manner was not severe. He hesitated a little before
beginning.

"I must confess, Hugh; that I scarcely know what to say about this
proceeding of yours. The thing that strikes me most forcibly is that you
might have confided in your mother and myself."

Hope flashed up within me, like an explosion.

"I--I wanted to surprise you, father. And then, you see, I thought it
would be wiser to find out first how well I was likely to do at the
examinations."

My father looked at me. Unfortunately he possessed neither a sense of
humour nor a sense of tragedy sufficient to meet such a situation. For
the first time in my life I beheld him at a disadvantage; for I had,
somehow, managed at length to force him out of position, and he was
puzzled. I was quick to play my trump card.

"I have been thinking it over carefully," I told him, "and I have made
up my mind that I want to go into the law."

"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