"He's not a saint, I will admit. But, as to honesty, there are different opinions about that. I, for one, don't blame him. If people are the fools to go to law, they must expect to lose some of their surplus feathers." "Would you do so?" "Certainly I would; and am doing it. Mr. Harker, with whom I am now professionally connected, as you are no doubt aware, has a large business. He is a good lawyer, but never possessed the tact which some other men have of making the most of his cases. It will be my business to reform this, and I have already commenced it." "Does he not object?" "He! No indeed. He is pleased at it Why not? It will put money into his pocket as well as mine. My interest in his business is worth now at the rate of two thousand dollars a year, but before a twelvemonth passes I will make it equal to three thousand dollars." "By nursing cases?" "Yes, by that; and also by infusing more energy into all our business. I am bound to go up, you know. That is my ambition. If anybody is fool enough to bend his head for me to place my feet upon his shoulders, you will not find me hesitating about making good use of the opportunity. Do you blame me!" "Yes." "Why?" "Because the means of rising that you propose to yourself I do not believe to be just." "It's the custom in our profession, and he who neglects to fall into it, will be apt to remain in status quo." "I must still doubt that. Had I chosen law for a profession, instead of medicine, I would have tried the honest course." "And remained a poor devil of a lawyer all your life," said Dunbar, a little rudely. The plain words of his old friend had touched him a little, indifferently as he treated them. "As to the result, I never think of that," returned Hudson. "I ask myself, 'Is it right?' and trustfully await the issue. I feel that I have talents, and I believe that if we possess ability and use it faithfully for the good of others, we shall have our reward,—if in nothing else, an approving conscience." Dunbar tossed his head with a slight air of contempt, as he said— "How soon do you expect your profession, conducted on your principles, to give you an income of two thousand dollars a year?" "I don't know that it ever will." "And can you be content with that, or less than that?" "With whatever comes, I will strive to be content." "And even say, thank God for nothing! if nothing comes." There was something insolent in the young lawyer's manner which was felt by Hudson, and against which his fine spirit rebelled. "One thing is plain," he said, speaking in a voice changed from its former tone, and looking somewhat sternly at Dunbar, "that you and I have different principles, and that these lead us in the present, and will lead us in the future, into different practices. There is no harmony between these principles, and, therefore, can be no sympathy between us. It is therefore better, perhaps, that we should not meet, for we cannot meet as friends."