‘I feel sure it would meet with great approbation if it were,’ he said. ‘I have no doubt whatever that the best critics would recognise its merit and its undoubted promise. I wonder if Lucian would allow the earl to read it?--his lordship is a fine judge of classic poetry, and though I believe he cherishes a contempt for modern verse, he cannot fail to be struck by this poem--the truth of its setting must appeal to him.’ ‘I will speak to Lucian,’ said Sprats. She persuaded Lucian to submit his work to Lord Simonstower next day;--the old nobleman read, re-read, and was secretly struck by the beauty and strength of the boy’s performance. He sent for Lucian and congratulated him warmly. Later on in the day he walked into the vicar’s study. ‘Chilverstone,’ he said, ‘what is to be done with that boy Damerel? He will make a great name if due care is taken of him at the critical moment. How old is he now--nearly nineteen? I think he should go to Oxford.’ ‘That,’ said the vicar, ‘is precisely my own opinion.’ ‘It would do him all the good in the world,’ continued the earl. ‘It is a thing that should be pushed through. I think I have heard that the boy has some money? I knew his father, Cyprian Damerel. He was a man who earned a good deal, but I should say he spent it. Still, I have always understood that he left money in Simpson Pepperdine’s hands for the boy.’ Mr. Chilverstone observed that he had always been so informed, though he did not know by whom. ‘Simpson Pepperdine should be approached,’ said Lord Simonstower. ‘I have a good mind to talk to him myself.’ ‘If your lordship would have the kindness to do so,’ said the vicar, ‘it would be a most excellent thing. Pepperdine is an estimable man, and very proud indeed of Lucian--I am sure he would be induced to give his consent.’ ‘I will see him to-morrow,’ said the earl. But before the morrow dawned an event had taken place in the history of the Pepperdine family which involved far-reaching consequences. While the earl and the vicar were in consultation over their friendly plans for Lucian’s benefit, Mr. Pepperdine was travelling homewards from Oakborough, whither he had proceeded in the morning in reference to a letter which caused him no little anxiety and perturbation. It was fortunate that he had a compartment all to himself in the train, for he groaned and sighed at frequent intervals, and manifested many signs of great mental distress. When he left Wellsby station he walked with slow and heavy steps along the road to Mr. Trippett’s farm, where, as usual, he had left his horse and trap. Mrs. Trippett, chancing to look out of the parlour window, saw him approaching the house and noticed the drag in his step. He walked, she said, discussing the matter later on with her husband, as if he had suddenly become an old man. She hastened to the door to admit him; Mr. Pepperdine gazed at her with a lack-lustre eye.