They all think so.' 'Well, I suppose they do,' says Edwin, meditating aloud.

'Pussy thinks so.' 'When did she tell you that ?' 'The last time I was here.

You remember when.

Three months ago.' 'How did she phrase it ?' 'O, she only said that she had become your pupil, and that you were made for your vocation.' The younger man glances at the portrait.

The elder sees it in him.
'Anyhow, my dear Ned,' Jasper resumes, as he shakes his head with a grave cheerfulness, 'I must subdue myself to my vocation: which is much the same thing outwardly.