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And yet amidst the
silliness inseparable from love's young dream, there was a depth of true
womanly feeling, thoughtful, unselfish, forecasting a future which was
not to travel always along the primrose path of dalliance--a future in
which the roses were not always to be thornless.
John Hammond was going to London to work for a position in the world, to
strive and labour among the seething mass of strugglers, all pressing
onward for the same goal--independence, wealth, renown. Little as Mary
know of the world by experience, she had at least heard the wiseacres
talk; and that which she had heard was calculated to depress rather than
to inspire industrious youth. She had heard how the professions were all
over-crowded: how a mighty army of young men were walking the hospitals,
all intent on feeling the pulses and picking the pockets of the rising
generation: how at the Bar men were growing old and grey before they saw
their first brief: how competitors were elbowing and hustling each other
upon every road, thronging at every gate.


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