time, in short, that I walked the hospitals, and passed my examination.

I had spoken to my father more than once upon the subject--spoken
earnestly and urgently, as one who felt the necessity and justice of his
appeal. But he put me off from time to time; persisted in looking upon
me as a boy long after I had become acquainted with the penalties of the
razor; and counselled me to be patient, till patience was well-nigh
exhausted. The result of this treatment was that I became miserable and
discontented; spent whole days wandering about the woods; and
degenerated into a creature half idler and half misanthrope. I had never
loved the profession of medicine. I should never have chosen it had I
been free to follow my own inclinations: but having diligently fitted
myself to enter it with credit, I felt that my father wronged me in this
delay; and I felt it perhaps all the more bitterly because my labor had
been none of love. Happily for me, however, he saw his error before it
was too late, and repaired it generously.

"Basil," said he, beckoning me one morning into the consulting-room, "I
want to speak to you."

I obeyed sullenly, and stood leaning up against the window, with my
hands in my pockets.

"You've been worrying me, Basil, more than enough these last few
months," he said, rummaging among his papers, and speaking in a low,
constrained voice. "I don't choose to be worried any longer. It is time
you walked the hospitals, and--you may go."

"To London, sir?"