ngs, and they will soon be the only things to understand. The rector
knows nothing about them. My father is thoroughly high and dry, and has
not the slightest idea of Church principles."

"Indeed!" said Endymion.

"It is quite a new set even at Oxford," continued Nigel; "but their
principles are as old as the Apostles, and come down from them,
straight."

"That is a long time ago," said Endymion.

"I have a great fancy," continued Nigel, without apparently attending to
him, "to give you a thorough Church education. It would be the making
of you. You would then have a purpose in life, and never be in doubt or
perplexity on any subject. We ought to move heaven and earth to induce
Mr. Ferrars to send you to Oxford."

"I will speak to Myra about it," said Endymion.

"I said something of this to your sister the other day," said Nigel,
"but I fear she is terribly Erastian. However, I will give you something
to read. It is not very long, but you can read it at your leisure,
and then we will talk over it afterwards, and perhaps I may give you
something else."

Endymion did not fail to give a report of this conversation and similar
ones to his sister, for he was in the habit of telling her everything.
She listened with attention, but not with interest, to his story. Her
expression was kind, but hardly serious. Her wondrous eyes gave him a
glance of blended mockery and affection. "Dear darling," she said, "if
you are to be a clergyman, I should like you to be a cardinal."

CHAPTER XV

The dark deep hints that had reached Mr. Ferrars at the beginning of
1834 were the harbingers of startling events. In the spring it began to
be rumoured among the initiated, that the mighty Reform Cabinet with its
colossal majority, and its testimonial goblets of gold, raised by the
penny subscriptions of the grateful people, was in convulsions, and
before the month of July had elapsed Lord Grey had resigned, under
circumstances which exhibited the entire demoralisation of his party.
Except Zenobia, every one was of the opinion that the King acted wisely
in entrusting the reconstruction of the Whig ministry to his late
Secretary of State, Lord Melbourne. Nevertheless, it could no longer be
concealed, nay, it was invariably admitted, that the political situation
had been largely and most unexpectedly changed, and that there was a
prospect, dim, perhaps, yet not undefinable, of the conduct of
public affairs again falling to the alternat