“When I lost my dear first, and became the wife of my dear second,” said Mrs Badger, speaking of her former husbands as if they were parts of a charade, “I still enjoyed opportunities of observing youth. The class attendant on Professor Dingo’s lectures was a large one, and it became my pride, as the wife of an eminent scientific man seeking herself in science the utmost consolation it could impart, to throw our house open to the students, as a kind of Scientific Exchange. Every Tuesday evening there was lemonade and a mixed biscuit, for all who chose to partake of those refreshments. And there was Science to an unlimited extent.”

(“Remarkable assemblies those, Miss Summerson,” said Mr Badger, reverentially. “There must have been great intellectual friction going on there, under the auspices of such a man!”

“And now,” pursued Mrs Badger, “now that I am the wife of my dear third, Mr Badger, I still pursue those habits of observation which were formed during the lifetime of Captain Swosser, and adapted to new and unexpected purposes during the lifetime of Professor Dingo. I therefore have not come to the consideration of Mr Carstone as a Neophyte. And yet I am very much of the opinion, my dears, that he has not chosen his profession advisedly.”

Ada looked so very anxious now, that I asked Mrs Badger on what she founded her supposition.

“My dear Miss Summerson,” she replied, “on Mr Carstone’s character and conduct. He is of such a very easy disposition, that probably he would never think it worth while to mention how he really feels; but, he feels languid about the profession. He has not that positive interest in it which makes it his vocation. If he has any decided impression in reference to it, I should say it was that it is a tiresome pursuit. Now, this is not promising. Young men, like Mr Allan Woodcourt, who take it from a strong interest in all that it can do, will find some reward in it through a great deal of work for a very little money, and through years of considerable endurance and disappointment. But I am quite convinced that this would never be the case with Mr Carstone.”

“Does Mr Badger think so too?” asked Ada, timidly.

“Why,” said Mr Badger, “to tell the truth, Miss Clare, this view of the matter had not occurred to me until Mrs Badger mentioned it. But, when Mrs Badger put it in that light, I naturally gave great consideration to it; knowing that Mrs Badger’s mind, in addition to its natural advantages, has had the rare advantage of being formed by two such very distinguished (I will even say illustrious) public men as Captain Swosser of the Royal Navy and Professor Dingo. The conclusion at which I have arrived is — in short, is Mrs Badger’s conclusion.”

“It was a maxim of Captain Swosser’s,” said Mrs Badger, “speaking in his figurative naval manner, that when you make pitch hot, you cannot make it too hot; and that if you only have to swab a plank, you should swab it as if Davy Jones were after you. It appears to me that this maxim is applicable to the medical, as well as to the nautical profession.”

“To all professions,” observed Mr Badger. “It was admirably said by Captain Swosser. Beautifully said.”

“People objected to Professor Dingo, when we were staying in the North of Devon, after our marriage,” said Mrs Badger, “that he disfigured some of the houses and other buildings, by chipping off fragments of those edifices with his little geological hammer. But the Professor replied, that he knew of no building, save the Temple of Science. The principle is the same, I think?”

“Precisely the same,” said Mr Badger. “Finely expressed! The Professor made the same remark, Miss Summerson, in his last illness; when (his mind wandering) he insisted on keeping his little hammer under the pillow, and chipping at the countenances of the attendants. The ruling passion!”

Although we could have dispensed with the length at which Mr and Mrs Badger pursued the conversation, we both felt that it was disinterested in them to express the opinion they had communicated to us, and