ved himself
so entirely from his society, that he was obliged to conclude that the
prevailing mood was that of not being quite able to bear the sight of
him. His consolation was the hope of an opening for some generous
proceeding, though how this should be accomplished was not visible,
since it was quite as hard to be generous with other people's hearts as
to confer a benefit on a Pendragon. At any rate, he was so confident
of Jem's superiority, as to have no fear of carrying off the affection
of any one whom his cousin wished to win.

James was ordained, and shortly after went to some pupils for the
Easter vacation, which was spent by Louis at Christchurch, in studying
hard. The preparation for going up for his degree ended by absorbing
him entirely, as did every other pursuit to which he once fairly
devoted himself, and for the first time he gave his abilities full
scope in the field that ought long ago to have occupied them. When,
finally, a third class was awarded to him, he was conscious that it
might have been a first, but for his past waste of time.

He was sorry to leave Oxford: he had been happy there in his own
desultory fashion; and the additional time that his illness had kept
him an undergraduate, had been welcome as deferring the dreaded moment
of considering what was to come next. He had reached man's estate
almost against his will.

He was to go to join his father in London; and he carried thither
humiliation for having, by his own fault, missed the honours that too
late he had begun to value as a means of gratifying his father.

The Earl, however, could hardly have taken anything amiss from Louis.
After having for so many years withheld all the lassez-aller of
paternal affection, when the right chord had once been touched, his
fondness for his grown-up son had the fresh exulting pride, and almost
blindness that would ordinarily have been lavished on his infancy.
Lord Ormersfield's sentiments were few and slowly adopted, but they had
all the permanence and force of his strong character, and his affection
for Fitzjocelyn partook both of parental glory in a promising only son,
and of that tenderness, at once protecting and dependent, that fathers
feel for daughters. This was owing partly to Louis's gentle and
assiduous attentions during the last vacation, and also to his long
illness, and remarkable resemblance to his mother, which rendered
fondness of him a sort of tribute to her, and restored to