'That accounts of course for his being in such favour at the Palace. They say the Bishop and Mrs. Douglas would do anything for him--that they treat him as though he were their own son; Rolf and he are to go to the same college--Magdalen, too, though Mr. Lambert wanted him to go to Queen's; they say, if anything happened to Mr. Lambert, that Richard would be sure of the living; in a worldly point of view it certainly sounds better than a briefless barrister.' 'Ethel, you must not say such things. I cannot allow that my brother would be influenced by such worldly considerations tempting as they are,' replied Mildred, indignantly. But Ethel laid her hand softly on her arm. 'Dear Mildred, this is only one side of the question; that something far deeper is involved I know from Richard himself; I heard it years ago, when Cardie was younger, and had not learned to be proud and cold with his old playmate,' and Ethel's tone was a little sad. 'May I know?' asked Mildred, pleadingly; 'there is no fear of Richard ever telling me himself.' Ethel hesitated slightly. 'He might not like it; but no, there can be no harm; you ought to know it, Mildred; until now it seemed so beautiful--Richard thought so himself.' 'You mean that Betha wished it as well as Arnold?' 'Ah! you have guessed it. What if the parents, in the fulness of their fresh young happiness, desired to dedicate their first-born to the priesthood, would not this better fit your conception of your brother's character, always so simple and unconventional?' A gleam of pleasure passed over Mildred's face, but it was mixed with pain. A fresh light seemed thrown on Richard's difficulty; she could understand the complication now. With Richard's deep love for his mother, would he not be tempted to regard her wishes as binding, all the more that it involved sacrifice on his part? 'It might be so, but Richard should not feel it obligatory to carry out his parents' wish if there be any moral hindrance,' she continued thoughtfully. 'That is what I tell him. I have reason to know that it was a favourite topic of conversation between the mother and son, and Mrs. Lambert often assured me, with tears in her eyes, that Richard was ardent to follow his father's profession. I remember on the eve of his confirmation that he told me himself that he felt he was training for the noblest vocation that could fall to the lot of man. Until two years ago there was no hint of repugnance, not a whisper of dissent; no wonder all this is a blow to his father!' 'No, indeed!' assented Mildred. 'Can you guess what has altered him so?' continued Ethel, with a scrutinising glance. 'I have noticed a gradual change in him the last two or three years; he is more reserved, less candid in every way. I confess I have hardly understood him of late.'