too hastily scribbled sermon in
the school pulpit, or keeping up an enthusiasm for beautiful language in
a badly-prepared lesson on Virgil, or expressing unreal indignation and
unjustifiably exalted sentiments to evil doers, and one realizes his
disadvantage against the quiet youngster whose retentive memory was
storing up all these impressions for an ultimate judgment, and one
understands, too, a certain relief that mingled with his undeniable
emotion when at last the time came for young Benham, "the one living
purpose" of his life, to be off to Minchinghampton and the next step in
the mysterious ascent of the English educational system.

Three times at least, and with an increased interval, the father wrote
fine fatherly letters that would have stood the test of publication.
Then his communications became comparatively hurried and matter-of-fact.
His boy's return home for the holidays was always rather a stirring time
for his private feelings, but he became more and more inexpressive. He
would sometimes lay a hand on those growing shoulders and then withdraw
it. They felt braced-up shoulders, stiffly inflexible or--they would
wince. And when one has let the habit of indefinite feelings grow upon
one, what is there left to say? If one did say anything one might be
asked questions....

One or two of the long vacations they spent abroad together. The last
of these occasions followed Benham's convalescence at Montana and his
struggle with the Bisse; the two went to Zermatt and did several peaks
and crossed the Theodule, and it was clear that their joint expeditions
were a strain upon both of them. The father thought the son reckless,
unskilful, and impatient; the son found the father's insistence upon
guides, ropes, precautions, the recognized way, the highest point and
back again before you get a chill, and talk about it sagely but very,
very modestly over pipes, tiresome. He wanted to wander in deserts of
ice and see over the mountains, and discover what it is to be benighted
on a precipice. And gradually he was becoming familiar with his father's
repertory of Greek quotations. There was no breach between them, but
each knew that holiday was the last they would ever spend together....

The court had given the custody of young William Porphyry into his
father's hands, but by a generous concession it was arranged that his
mother should have him to see her for an hour or so five times a year.
The Nolan legacy, however, c