n the
increase, to suggest, or faintly to stir the air in the
neighbourhood of suggesting, a query about my future. He was
childless and so was she, and I think a kind impulse led them to
'feel the way', as it is called. I believe he said that the
banking business, wisely and honourably conducted, sometimes led,
as we know that it is apt to lead, to affluence. To my horror, my
Father, with rising emphasis, replied that 'if there were offered
to his beloved child what is called "an opening" that would lead
to an income of L10,000 a year, and that would divert his
thoughts and interest from the Lord's work he would reject it on
his child's behalf.' Mr. Brightwen, a precise and polished
gentleman who evidently never made an exaggerated statement in
his life, was, I think, faintly scandalized; he soon left us, and
I do not recollect his paying us a second visit.

For my silent part, I felt very much like Gehazi, and I would
fain have followed after the banker if I had dared to do so, into
the night. I would have excused to him the ardour of my Elisha,
and I would have reminded him of the sons of the prophets--'Give
me, I pray thee,' I would have said, 'a talent of silver and two
changes of garments.' It seemed to me very hard that my Father
should dispose of my possibilities of wealth in so summary a
fashion, but the fact that I did resent it, and regretted what I
supposed to be my 'chance', shows how far apart we had already
swung. My Father, I am convinced, thought that he gave words to
my inward instincts when he repudiated the very mild and
inconclusive benevolence of his brother-in-law. But he certainly
did not do so. I was conscious of a sharp and instinctive
disappointment at having had, as I fancied, wealth so near my
grasp, and at seeing it all cast violently into the sea of my
Father's scruples.

Not one of my village friends attended the boarding-school to
which I was now attached, and I arrived there without an
acquaintance. I should soon, however, have found a corner of my
own if my Father had not unluckily stipulated that I was not to
sleep in the dormitory with the boys of my own age, but in the
room occupied by the two elder sons of a prominent Plymouth
Brother whom he knew. From a social point of view this was an
unfortunate arrangement, since these youths were some years older
and many years riper than I; the eldest, in fact, was soon to
leave; they had enjoyed their independence, and they now greatly