"Don't think any man has a more obedient son," replied Cyril. "The time, however, has now come when some plan must be devised for you to make a fresh start in life upon your own account." "'Pon my word, father, I don't see it. I'm very comfortable as I am." "But I am not, sir," replied his father, firmly. "For years past it has been thrown in my teeth that I am rightly named Eli. You know why. It is time, now, sir, that we took care not to be ashamed of the enemy in the gate." "Please don't preach, father," said the young man, in a tone of protestation. The Rector paid no attention to his words, but went on-- "Let me ask you first," he said, "one question." "Go on," said the young man, for his father had stopped. "Has Miss Portlock accepted your attentions?" There was a pause here. "I say, Cyril, has Miss Portlock accepted your attentions?" "Matter of confidence," replied the young man. "Question I would rather not answer." "Then she has not," said the Rector, quickly, "and I am very, very glad." "Why, father?" "Because, as I have told you before, she is receiving the attentions of Mr Luke Ross." "Oh, nonsense!" cried Cyril, flushing. "That's all off now." "I heard something of the kind; but what do you mean? Have they quarrelled?" "Oh, no. Old Portlock wouldn't have it: and quite right, too. Girl like that to be engaged to such a clod!" "Cyril," said his father, angrily, "I would to heaven that I had as good a son." "Complimentary to your boys, sir. Let's see, he threw you over very shabbily about the school, didn't he?" "He declined the post, certainly." "Then even Mr Luke Ross is not perfect, sir." "I am not going to criticise his conduct over that matter, sir, beyond saying that he had no doubt good reasons for declining the post. On further consideration I think he was right, for unless he felt his heart to be in his work, he would have been wrong to venture upon binding himself to the school." "Most worthy young man, I've no doubt," said Cyril, with a sneer. "A young man for whom I entertain a great respect," retorted the Rector. "One of those highly respectable young men who push their way on in the world," sneered Cyril. "And often become great with the poorest of means for pushing their way," said the Rector, "while those well started miserably fail." "Oh, yes; I know 'em," said Cyril. "One reads of them in the nice books. Bah! I haven't patience with the prigs; and as for this Luke Ross," he cried, with the colour burning as two spots in his cheeks, "I look upon him as one of the most contemptible cads under the sun. You talk of wishing that you had such a son, father! Why the fellow is utterly beneath our notice." "Why?" said his father, in a sharp, incisive tone. "Why?" replied Cyril. "Because he is." "A pitiful reply," said the Rector, angrily. "Can you give me a better reason for your dislike to Luke Ross?" "Not I. He is not worth it."