of sight, and as much
out of mind as possible. He did not burn them, because someone might
come in who wanted to smoke, and though he might abridge his own liberty,
yet, as smoking was not a sin, there was no reason why he should be hard
on other people.

After breakfast he left his rooms to call on a man named Dawson, who had
been one of Mr Hawke's hearers on the preceding evening, and who was
reading for ordination at the forthcoming Ember Weeks, now only four
months distant. This man had been always of a rather serious turn of
mind--a little too much so for Ernest's taste; but times had changed, and
Dawson's undoubted sincerity seemed to render him a fitting counsellor
for Ernest at the present time. As he was going through the first court
of John's on his way to Dawson's rooms, he met Badcock, and greeted him
with some deference. His advance was received with one of those ecstatic
gleams which shone occasionally upon the face of Badcock, and which, if
Ernest had known more, would have reminded him of Robespierre. As it
was, he saw it and unconsciously recognised the unrest and
self-seekingness of the man, but could not yet formulate them; he
disliked Badcock more than ever, but as he was going to profit by the
spiritual benefits which he had put in his way, he was bound to be civil
to him, and civil he therefore was.

Badcock told him that Mr Hawke had returned to town immediately his
discourse was over, but that before doing so he had enquired particularly
who Ernest and two or three others were. I believe each one of Ernest's
friends was given to understand that he had been more or less
particularly enquired after. Ernest's vanity--for he was his mother's
son--was tickled at this; the idea again presented itself to him that he
might be the one for whose benefit Mr Hawke had been sent. There was
something, too, in Badcock's manner which conveyed the idea that he could
say more if he chose, but had been enjoined to silence.

On reaching Dawson's rooms, he found his friend in raptures over the
discourse of the preceding evening. Hardly less delighted was he with
the effect it had produced on Ernest. He had always known, he said, that
Ernest would come round; he had been sure of it, but he had hardly
expected the conversion to be so sudden. Ernest said no more had he, but
now that he saw his duty so clearly he would get ordained as soon as
possible, and take a curacy, even though the doing so would make h