ith the Principal and poor Emmett's stammering and poor Emmett's
words in the quad afterwards, he began to imagine what it would mean to
poor Emmett if he failed to win the scholarship. Mark had not been so
successful himself in these examinations as to justify a grand
self-confidence; but he could not regard Emmett as a dangerous
competitor. Had he the right in view of Emmett's handicap to accept this
scholarship at his expense? To be sure, he might urge on his own behalf
that without it he should himself be debarred from Oxford. What would
the loss of it mean? It would mean, first of all, that Mr. Ogilvie would
make the financial effort to maintain him for three years as a commoner,
an effort which he could ill afford to make and which Mark had not the
slightest intention of allowing him to make. It would mean, next, that
he should have to occupy himself during the years before his ordination
with some kind of work among people. He obviously could not go on
reading theology at Wych-on-the-Wold until he went to Glastonbury. Such
an existence, however attractive, was no preparation for the active life
of a priest. It would mean, thirdly, a great disappointment to his
friend and patron, and considering the social claims of the Church of
England it would mean a handicap for himself. There was everything to be
said for winning this scholarship, nothing to be said against it on the
grounds of expediency. On the grounds of expediency, no, but on other
grounds? Should he not be playing the better part if he allowed Emmett
to win? No doubt all that was implied in the necessity for him to win a
scholarship was equally implied in the necessity for Emmett to win one.
It was obvious that Emmett was no better off than himself; it was
obvious that Emmett was competing in a kind of despair. Mark remembered
how a few minutes ago his rival had offered him this year's Whitaker,
keeping for himself last year's almanack. Looked at from the point of
view of Emmett who really believed that something might be gained at
this eleventh hour from a study of the more recent volume, it had been a
fine piece of self-denial. It showed that Emmett had Christian talents
which surely ought not to be wasted because he was handicapped by a
stammer.

The spell that Oxford had already cast on Mark, the glamour of the
firelight on the walls and raftered ceiling of this room haunted by
centuries of youthful hope, did not persuade him how foolish it was to
su