He loved this good-looking, earnest grandson of his, and he was troubled.

He lay awake half the night thinking over this piece of not unexpected news.
The next morning at breakfast he said to Braden: "See here, my boy, you spoke to me recently about your desire to spend a year in and about the London hospitals before settling down to the real business of life.

I've been thinking it over.

You can't very well afford to pay for these finishing touches after you've begun struggling along on your own hook, and trying to make both ends meet on a slender income, so I'd suggest that you take this next year as a gift from me and spend it on the other side, working with my good friend, Sir George Bascombe, the greatest of all the English surgeons.

I don't believe you will ever regret it." Braden was overjoyed.