laughing, "as all
my bliss is still within your own reach. You have still your rooms at
Oriel if you choose to go into them." For Bertram had been elected to
a fellowship at that college.

"All! that's easily said; but somehow it couldn't be. I don't know
why it is, Arthur; but I have panted to have the privileges of an
ordained priest, and yet it is not to be so. I have looked forward to
ordination as the highest ambition of a man, but yet I shall never be
ordained."

"Why not, George?"

"It is not my destiny."

"On such a subject, do not talk such nonsense."

"Well, at any rate it will not be my lot. I do not mind telling you,
Arthur, but there is no one else to whom I could own how weak I am.
There have been moments since I have been away in which I have sworn
to devote myself to this work, so sworn when every object around
me was gifted with some solemn tie which should have made my oath
sacred; and yet--"

"Well--and yet? as yet everything is in your own power."

"No, Arthur, no, it is not so; I am now one of the myrmidons of
that most special of special pleaders, Mr. Neversaye Die. I have
given myself over to the glories of a horse-hair wig; 'whereas'
and 'heretofore' must now be my gospel; it is my doom to propagate
falsehood instead of truth. The struggle is severe at first; there is
a little revulsion of feeling; but I shall do it very well after a
time; as easily, I have no doubt, as Harcourt does."

"It is Harcourt who has led you to this."

"Perhaps so, partly; but no--I wrong myself in that. It has not been
Harcourt. I have been talked over; I have weakly allowed myself to be
talked out of my own resolve, but it has not been done by Harcourt. I
must tell you all: it is for that that I came here."

And then he told the history of his love; that history which to men
of twenty-four and girls of twenty is of such vital importance. A
young man when first he loves, and first knows that his love is
frequent in the thoughts of the woman he has chosen, feels himself
to be separated from all humanity by an amber-tinted cloud--to be
enveloped in a mystery of which common mortals know nothing. He
shakes his mane as he walks on with rapid step, and regards himself
almost as a god.

"And did she object to your taking orders?" asked Wilkinson.

"Object! no, I am nothing to her; nothing on earth. She would not
have objected to my being a shoemaker; but she said that she would
advise me to think of the one