id suppress it, for he had an object to gain
which, to his perverted mind, was the most important in the whole
world--namely, the final separation of his son and Isobel.

"His next bad point," he went on, "is his pride, which is abnormal,
although from childhood I have done my best to inculcate humility of
spirit into his heart. He cannot bear any affront, or even neglect. For
instance, he left me for some years just because he did not consider
that he was received properly on his return from Switzerland; also
because he went into a rage, for he has a very evil temper if roused,
when I suggested that he wanted to run after your daughter's money."

"Well, it wasn't a very nice thing to say, was it? But I think I see
light. He's proud, is he, and don't like allusions to fortune-hunting.
All right; I'll rub his nose in the dirt and make him good. I'm just
the boy for a job of that sort, as perhaps you will agree, my reverend
friend; and if he shows his airs to me, I'll kick him off the premises.
Come on! I dare say we shall find them still in the church, where they
think themselves so snug, although the rain has stopped."

So this precious pair started, each of them bent, though for different
reasons, upon as evil a mission as the mind of man can conceive. For
what is there more wicked than to wish to bring about the separation
and subsequent misery of two young people who, as they guessed well
enough, loved each other body and soul, and thereby to spoil their
lives? Yet, so strange is human nature, that neither of them thought
that they were committing any sin. Mr. Knight, now and afterwards,
justified himself with the reflection that he was parting his son from
a "pernicious" young woman of strong character, who would probably lead
him away from religion as it was understood by him. One also whom he
looked upon as the worst of outcasts, who deserved and doubtless was
destined to inhabit hell, because hastily she had rejected his form of
faith, as the young are apt to do, for reasons, however hollow, that
seemed to her sufficient.

He took no account of his bitter, secret jealousy of this girl, who, as
he thought, had estranged his son from him, and prevented him from
carrying out his cherished plans of making of him a clergyman like
himself, or of his innate physical hatred of women which caused him to
desire that Godfrey should remain celibate. These motives, although he
was well aware of them, he set down as naught,