l was very cold with him. Percy is a decent, honest,
hard-working, common ass, with a deep respect for the Pope and the
Polytechnic. He's a trifle zealous, however, with bastard
information about physical science, and not at all the person I
should choose to lecture Michael on the complications of
adolescence._

_We are getting on fairly well at Clere, but it's hard work trying
to make this country believe there is the slightest necessity for
the contemplative life. I hope all goes well with you and your
work._

_Yours affectionately in Xt.,_

_Cuthbert Manners, O.S.B._

_Poor Michael. His will be a difficult position one day. I feel on
re-reading this letter that I've told you nothing you don't already
know. But he's one of those elusive boys who have lived within
themselves too much and too long._

Michael put this letter back where he had found it, and wondered how
much of the contents would be discussed by Father Viner. He was glad
that Brother Aloysius had vanished, because Brother Aloysius had become
like a bad dream with which he was unwilling in the future to renew
acquaintance. On his own character Dom Cuthbert had not succeeded in
throwing very much light--at any rate not in this letter. Father Viner
came in to interrupt Michael's meditations, and began at once to discuss
the letter.

"The Lord Abbot of Clere thinks you're a dreamer," he began abruptly.

"Does he, Mr. Viner?" echoed Michael, who somehow could never bring
himself to the point of addressing the priest as 'Father.' Shyness
always overcame his will.

"What do you dream about, young Joseph?"

"Oh, I only think about a good many things, and wonder what I'm going to
be and all that," Michael replied. "I don't want to go into the Indian
Civil Service or anything with exams. I'm sick of exams. What I most
want to do is to get away from school. I'm sick of school, and the
fellows in the Upper Fifth are a greasy crowd of swats always sucking up
to Cray."

"And who is the gentleman with the crustacean name that attracts these
barnacles?"

"Cray? Oh, he's my form-master, and tries to be funny."

"So do I, Michael," confessed Mr. Viner.

"Oh, well, that's different. I'm not bound to listen to you, if I don't
want to. But I have to listen to Cray for eighteen hours every week, and
he hates me because I won't take notes for his beastly essays. I think
I'll ask my mate