ave himself up to pleasures
disgraceful in themselves, that he altogether abandoned the reins,
and allowed himself to live such a life as is passed by some young
men in London. His tastes and appetites were too high for this. He
did not sink into a slough of despond. He did not become filthy and
vicious, callous and bestial; but he departed very widely astray from
those rules which governed him during his first six months in London.

All this was well known at Littlebath; nor did Bertram at all
endeavour to conceal the truth. Indeed, it may be said of him, that
he never concealed anything. In this especial case he took a pride in
letting Caroline know the full extent of the evil she had done.

It was a question with them whether he had not now given up the bar
as a profession altogether. He did not say that he had done so, and
it was certainly his intention to keep his terms, and to be called;
but he had now no longer a legal Gamaliel. Some time in the April
of this year, Mr. Die had written to him a very kind little note,
begging him to call one special morning at the chambers in Stone
Buildings, if not very inconvenient to him. Bertram did call, and Mr.
Die, with many professions of regard and regret, honestly returned to
him his money paid for that year's tutelage. "It had been," he said,
"a pleasure and a pride to him to have Mr. Bertram in his chambers;
and would still be so to have him there again. But he could not take
a gentleman's money under a false pretence; as it seemed to be no
longer Mr. Bertram's intention to attend there, he must beg to refund
it." And he did refund it accordingly. This also was made known to
the ladies at Littlebath.

He was engaged, he had said, on other matters. This also was true.
During the first six months of his anger, he had been content to be
idle; but idleness did not suit him, so he sat himself down and wrote
a book. He published this book without his name, but he told them at
Littlebath of his authorship; and some one also told of it at Oxford.
The book--or bookling, for it consisted but of one small demy-octavo
volume--was not such as delighted his friends either at Littlebath or
at Oxford, or even at those two Hampshire parsonages. At Littlebath
it made Miss Baker's hair stand on end, and at Oxford it gave rise
to a suggestion in some orthodox quarters that Mr. Bertram should be
requested to resign his fellowship.

It has been told how, sitting on the Mount of Olives, h