ing. What was he to do?
His friends were exhausted, and so were his expedients. There was no
longer any one he could borrow from, or who would take even a share of
his burden on their shoulders. What was he to do?

CHAPTER XIX.

THE NEW CHAPLAIN.

It cannot be denied that, reluctant as Reginald May had been to accept
the chaplaincy of which so much had been said, he had no sooner fairly
done so, and committed himself beyond remedy, than a certain sense of
relief began to steal over the young man's mind. He had made the leap.
Moved, at last, by arguments which, perhaps, were not worth very much
logically, and which even while he yielded to them he saw the weakness
of, he felt sure that when he woke in the morning, and realized what he
had done, fearful feelings of remorse would seize him. But, curiously
enough, this was not so; and his first sensation was relief that the
conflict was over, and that he had no more angry remonstrances to meet
with, or soft pleadings from Ursula, or assaults of rude abruptness from
Janey. All that was over; and then a warm glow of independence and
competency came over the young man. You may be sure he had no fire in
his rooms to make him warm, and it was a chill January morning, with
snow in the heavy sky, and fog in the yellow air; but, notwithstanding,
there came a glow of comfort over him.

Independent!--free to go where he pleased, buy what he liked, spend his
time as best seemed to him, with a "position" of his own; even a house
of his own. He laughed softly to himself at this new idea. It did not
somehow hurt him as he thought it would, this sinecure he had accepted.
Could he not make it up, as Ursula said, "work for the town in other
ways without pay, since the town had given him pay without work?" A
genial feeling of toleration came over Reginald's mind. Why should he
have made such a fuss about it? It was natural that his father should
insist, and, now that it was done, he himself did not wish it undone, as
he had expected to do. After all, if you judged matters with such
rigidity, who was there without guilt? what public appointment was
given and held according to abstract right, as, formally speaking, it
ought to be? Those in the highest offices were appointed, not because of
their personal excellence, but because of being some other man's son or
brother; and yet, on the whole, public duty was well done, and the
unjust ruler and hireling priest were exceptions. Even m