“But that being the case, more or less, with all pursuits that are worth much,” said Mr. Jarndyce, “it is not a special consideration which another choice would be likely to escape.”
“Truly,” said Mr. Kenge. “And Mr. Richard Carstone, who has so meritoriously acquitted himself in the—shall I say the classic shades?—in which his youth had been passed, will, no doubt, apply the habits, if not the principles and practice, of versification in that tongue in which a poet was said (unless I mistake) to be born, not made, to the more eminently practical field of action on which he enters.”
“You may rely upon it,” said Richard in his offhand manner, “that I shall go at it and do my best.”
“Very well, Mr. Jarndyce!” said Mr. Kenge, gently nodding his head. “Really, when we are assured by Mr. Richard that he means to go at it and to do his best,” nodding feelingly and smoothly over those expressions, “I would submit to you that we have only to inquire into the best mode of carrying out the object of his ambition. Now, with reference to placing Mr. Richard with some sufficiently eminent practitioner. Is there anyone in view at present?”
“No one, Rick, I think?” said my guardian.
“No one, sir,” said Richard.
“Quite so!” observed Mr. Kenge. “As to situation, now. Is there any particular feeling on that head?”
“N—no,” said Richard.
“Quite so!” observed Mr. Kenge again.
“I should like a little variety,” said Richard; “I mean a good range of experience.”