Mrs. Benson assented. "Why not encourage her to come here more often," she suggested. "She and Violet are about the same age, and Violet's nearly always here in the holidays. Richard and Joan seemed to get on very well last year. Oh, talking of Richard; you know, I suppose, that he insists upon being a doctor?" Elizabeth laughed. "Well, as long as he's a good doctor I suppose he won't kill anyone!" They both smiled now as they thought of Richard. "His father's furious," Mrs. Benson told her, "but it's no good being furious with Richard; you might as well get angry with an oak tree and slap it." "Does he work well?" "Oh, I believe so; you wouldn't think it to look at him, would you? but I hear that he's rather clever. Anyhow, he's a perfect darling, and what _does_ it matter whether he's a doctor or a cabinet minister, so long as he's respectable!" "Will he specialize eventually, do you think?" "He wants to, if he can get his father to back him." "Oh, but he will do that, of course. Does Richard say what he wants to specialize in?" Mrs. Benson smiled again. "He does," she remarked with mock grimness. "He says he means to specialize in medical psychology--nerves, I believe is what it boils down to. _Can_ you see Richard as a nerve specialist, Elizabeth?" "Well, if having no nerves oneself goes to the making of a good nerve doctor, I should think he would succeed." "He tells me he's certain to succeed, my dear; he takes it as a matter of course. If you could see the books he leaves about the house! Do you know, Elizabeth, I'm almost afraid for my Richard sometimes; it would be so awfully hard for him if he failed to make good, he's so sure of himself, you know. And it's not conceit; I don't know what it is--it's a kind of matter-of-fact self-confidence--it's almost impressive!" 2 Richard and Joan were walking up and down the path by the tennis lawn; they looked very young and lanky and pathetic, the one in his eagerness, the other in her resignation. Joan, as she listened to the enthusiastic sentences, wondered how anyone could care so much about anything. He was saying: "It's ripping the feeling it gives you to know that you can do a thing, and to feel that you're going to do it well." "But how can you be certain that you will do it well?" Joan inquired. "I don't know, but one is certain--at least, I am." "Will you live in Seabourne when you've taken your degree?" "Good Lord, no, of course not! No one who wants to get on could do anything in a place like this!" "It's not such a bad place," she protested. She felt an urgent need to uphold Seabourne just then. "It's not a bad place for old people and mental deficients; no, I suppose it's not." "But your mother isn't old and she isn't mentally deficient." "Of course not; but she doesn't stick here. She goes up to London for months on end sometimes; besides, she's different!"