But he betrays ambition, sudden and
great haste to be married, and some selfishness. He walks to his lodging
in a neighbouring village, where trifling circumstances point to a
refined sensuousness, self-indulgence, and sophistry in his character,
leading to the neglect of serious duty. The shadow of impending tragedy
is hinted at from the first line of the book.

December in the following year. Cyril now an East End curate, and Henry
Everard, M.D., going by rail to Malbourne. Everard asleep; manly,
cheerful, intellectual, healthy in body and mind. Cyril awake; consumed
by unspeakable sorrow. Everard wakes; Cyril suddenly becomes gay in
response to his friend's high spirits. They chaff each other. Cyril
preaches to Everard, when Henry scolds him for fasting, and his laxity
of faith and practice. They pass Belminster, when Cyril betrays
unconscious ambition at Everard's jesting prophecy that he would preach
as bishop in the cathedral. Asceticism is defended by Cyril and
condemned by Everard. Cyril speaks of the discipline of sorrow, and
presses a spiked cross under his clothes into his side. Everard exalts
the discipline of joy. The friends have been privately educated
together, and were together at Cambridge. Henry admires Cyril's
character and mental brilliance; Cyril regards Henry with condescending
affection. Everard is silently in love with Lilian.

Cyril and Everard in the meantime have arrived at Malbourne Rectory.
Cyril and Marion, who have not met since a quarrel, are alone together.
She wonders that he makes so much of the little tiff. He talks of his
unworthiness, and makes her promise to cleave to him through good and
_evil_ report. At dinner, Everard asks for all the villagers, and
gathers that Alma Lee is disgraced. "Alma, little Alma, the child we
used to play with!" he cries afterwards to the men Maitlands. "Who is
the scoundrel?" Cyril grows impatient under the discussion that follows.
"After all, _she is not the first!_" he says at last, to Everard's
indignation.

Sunday. All classes meeting on the way to church, when Cyril preaches
for the first time to his friends and neighbours, who throng to hear
him. He preaches with passionate earnestness upon the beauty of
innocence and the agony of losing it. "That once lost," he says, "the
old careless joy of youth never returns."

The village parliament in the moonlit churchyard after service comment
with humour on the sermon, and on Cyril's eloquence, lea