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He could not,
however, overcome his instinctive dislike to them. After the manly
high-minded, cultivated Harvard classmates, every moment of their
society was only endurable, and he neither went to their rooms nor asked
them to his. Peter had nothing of the snob in him, but he found reading
or writing, or a tramp about the city, much the pleasanter way of
passing his evenings.
The morning after this first day in New York, Peter called on his
friend, the civil engineer, to consult him about an office; for Watts
had been rather hazy in regard to where he might best locate that. Mr.
Converse shook his head when Peter outlined his plan.
"Do you know any New York people," he asked, "who will be likely to give
you cases?"
"No," said Peter.
"Then it's absolutely foolish of you to begin that way," said Mr.
Converse. "Get into a lawyer's office, and make friends first before you
think of starting by yourself. You'll otherwise never get a client."
Peter shook his head. "I've thought it out," he added, as if that
settled it.


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