He was conceited and self-righteous, but not obviously so.
When his college had conferred upon him the degree of doctor of medicine, he felt that he had climbed only on the lower rungs of the ladder of knowledge.

It was his father, not himself, who had chosen his profession, and now that he had received the right to practise medicine he experienced no desire to practise it; learning he loved truly, but not that he might turn it into golden fees, and not that by it he might assuage the sorrows of others; he loved it partly for its own sake, perhaps chiefly so; but there was in his heart a long-enduring ambition, which formed itself definitely into a desire for higher culture, and hoped more indefinitely for future fame.
Caius resolved to go abroad and study at the medical schools of the Old World.

His professors applauded his resolve; his friends encouraged him in it.

It was to explain to his father the necessity for this course of action, and wheedle the old man into approval and consent, that the young doctor went home in the spring of the same year which gave him his degree.
Caius had other sentiments in going home besides those which underlay the motive which we have assigned.

If as he travelled he at all regarded the finery of all that he had acquired, it was that he might by it delight the parents who loved him with such pride.