Then he spoke of Lady Latimer as a generous soul who
had first given him a lift, and of Mr. Carnegie as another effectual
helper. "He lent me a little money--I have long since paid it back," he
whispered to Bessie. He was still plain, but his countenance was full of
intelligence, and his air and manner were those of a perfectly simple,
cultivated, travelled gentleman. He did salaam to nobody now, for in his
brief commerce with the world he had learnt that genius has a rank of
its own to which the noblest bow, and ambition he had none beyond
excelling in his beloved art. Harry Musgrave was again, after long
separation, his comrade in London. He said that he was very fond of
Harry.
"He is my constant Sunday afternoon visitor," he told Bessie. "My
painting-room looks to the river, and he enjoys the sunshine and the
boats on the water. His own chambers are one degree less dismal than
looking down a well."
"He works very hard, does he not?--Harry used to be a prodigious
worker," said Bessie.
"Yes, he throws himself heart and soul into whatever he undertakes,
whether it be work or pleasure. If he had won that fellowship the other
day I should have been glad. It would have made him easier."
"I did not know he was trying for one. How sorry I am! It must be very
dull studying law."
"He lightens that by writing articles for some paper--reviews of books
chiefly. There are five years to be got through before he can be called
to the bar--a long probation for a young fellow in his circumstances.
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