that
poverty's greatest bane was the fact that it made men ridiculous. He
was speaking, to be sure, of clothes; but what could be more ridiculous
than an assumption of equality, based upon equal education and
breeding, between the poor and the rich?

The young mathematician had not yet established a commanding
professional reputation. He had given up a position which was now
filled by one of the fifty applicants that had rushed to seize it; his
present position at St. George's, he knew, could be filled as easily.
He had not the consolation of knowing himself to be valuable to the
institution. No one would rise up indignantly and take his part; no
one would care what became of him, except Felicity, and pride alone
would keep him from appealing to her.

He looked up at the great towers, buttressed by deep shadows, as if he
bade them farewell. Already they seemed to take on a strange and
unfriendly aspect. This mass of masonry had expressed hostility to him
on that September morning, he had read a warning in each impassive or
grinning gargoyle, and now, as he passed by, he could almost imagine
that they gave sibilant expression to their accomplished malice. He
realised how completely he had forgotten that first impression and
allowed his imagination to be captured by the place. Where now were
the dreams in which he had lately begun to indulge, visions of the
finished square, of turret and gable and tower, of gothic gateways, of
foliated chapel windows glimmering high in the darkened wall at evening?

Like one stunned by an unexpected blow, he continued his walk, until he
came to Birdseye Avenue and paused in front of the bishop's house. Did
he really intend to keep his promise never to see Felicity again? It
so, why was he even now measuring the distance between himself and
those lighted windows? Perhaps some chance would yet throw her in his
way; but he would not risk her contempt by following the prompting of
his heart and presenting himself before her only three days after his
expressed renunciation. Besides, the bishop might be there; and what
had he discovered since they last met? His consciousness of
wrong-doing in regard to Felicity deprived him of the desire to meet
the bishop face to face and to demand an explanation. Was there not,
after all, reason enough for the bishop's action, if he knew all? This
thought robbed Leigh of the satisfaction of a righteous indignation,
which until now he had cher