He had a little money
of his own, and no present occupation; he belonged to
the surplus. He was not content to belong to it; he cast
about him a good deal for something to do. There was
always the Bar, but only the best fellows get on there,
and he was not quite one of the best fellows; he knew
that. He had not money enough for politics or interest
enough for the higher departments of the public service,
nor had he those ready arts of expression that lead
naturally into journalism. Anything involving further
examinations he rejected on that account; and the future
of glassware, in view of what they were doing in Germany,
did not entice him to join his uncle in Chiswick. Still
he was aware of enterprise, convinced that he had loafed
long enough.
Lorne Murchison had never met anyone of Hesketh's age in
Hesketh's condition before. Affluence and age he knew,
in honourable retirement; poverty and youth he knew,
embarked in the struggle; indolence and youth he also
knew, as it cumbered the ground; but youth and a competence,
equipped with education, industry, and vigour, searching
vainly in fields empty of opportunity, was to him a new
spectacle. He himself had intended to be a lawyer since
he was fourteen. There never had been any impediment to
his intention, any qualification to his desire.
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