Chadwick; moreover, who could
hesitate between the modest possibilities of the museum and such a career
as waited the lad under the protection of his powerful friend? With nervous
haste the draper explained how matters stood, excused himself, and begged
that not another word on the subject might be spoken in his son's hearing.
Harry Humplebee knew what he had lost; the curator, in talk with him, had
already thrown out his suggestion; at their next meeting he discreetly made
known to the boy that other counsels must prevail. For the first time Harry
felt a vehement impulse, prompting him to speak on his own behalf, to
assert and to plead for his own desires. But courage failed him. He heard
his father loud in praise of Mr. Chadwick, intent upon the gratitude and
respect due to that admirable man. He knew how his mother would exclaim at
the mere hint of disinclination to enter the great man's office. And so he
held his peace, though it cost him bitterness of heart and even secret
tears. A long, long time passed before he could bring himself to enter
again the museum doors.
He sat on a stool in Mr. Chadwick's office, a clerk at a trifling salary.
Everything, his father reminded him, must have a beginning; let him work
well and his progress would be rapid.
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