In fact, this business-like little room was in itself the head-quarters of what that amusing print _The English Churchman_ would call "the most Romanizing members of the Ritualistic party." They sat down. Father Gray said, "You have something to tell me?" "Yes," Gobion answered sadly, "I am ruined." "Oh, come, come! What's all this? A boy like you can't be ruined." "My father has put the last touch to his unkindness, and quite given me up. You know how I have tried to work and lead a decent life; but he won't listen, and I'm going to work at journalism in London and take my chance." "My poor boy, my poor boy!" And the old priest was silent. Then he said, "Do you think you can keep yourself?" "I am sure I can, if only I can tide over the first three months. I expect it will be very hard at first though." "Have you any money?" "No; and I am heavily in debt into the bargain." "Oh, well, well, we must manage all that somehow. I won't let you starve. You have always been so frank with me, and told me all your troubles. We understand one another; you must let me lend you some for a time." "It's awfully good of you." "Oh, nonsense, these things are nothing between you and me; here is a cheque for five-and-twenty pounds, that will keep you going for a month or two. You know I'm not exactly a poor man. Now you'll stay to lunch, the Bishop's coming." "No, thanks, I won't stay, I'll say good-bye now; I want to be alone and think. Thank you so very much; I haven't led a very happy life at Oxford, but I _have_ tried ... and you've been so kind.... I am afraid I am utterly unworthy of it all"; and his voice trembled artistically. "My boy," said the old man, and his face shone, "you have been foolish, and wasted your chances. You have not been very bad. Thank God that you are pure and don't drink. God bless you--go out and prosper, keep innocence; now good-bye, good-bye"; and he made the sign of the cross in the air. Gobion got outside somehow, feeling rather unwell. He did not feel particularly pleased with his success at first, but the sun, and the crowd of people, and the wonderful irrepressible gaiety of the High just before lunch on a fine day cheered him up; and he cashed the second cheque, enjoying the look of surprise on the clerk's face, which was an unusual thing, because bank clerks, though always discourteous, are seldom surprised. Then he went back to college and packed his portmanteau. He left most of his books, and took only clothes and things that did not require much room. Scott would send up the heavy things after him. He told his scout he was going down for a few days, and that Mr. Scott of Merton would forward all letters. He knew that if his intended departure became known his creditors would rush to the Rector, and he would probably be detained.