“Yes, I know . . . you were a pair of dreamers, both of you. If you felt any very strong desire to become a parson there might be something in it, though that, too, is a miserable life often enough. But you don’t, do you?” “No . . . of course not.” “So I think that while I am living you should have the chance of learning a useful profession. What about doctoring?” “But that would be expensive too.” “I know that . . . but I think we could do it. We should have a little in common. I might even be able to help you. And in a way . . . in a way I should feel that in you I was realising some of my own old ambitions. It is a noble profession, Eddie: the most humane in the world. No one need ever be ashamed of being a doctor. I think that a parson who professes religion for the sake of a living is rather to be despised.” “Father, I’m sure it would cost too much. Six years, you know. . . .” “Five . . . only five, if you pass all your examinations. And it need not be so expensive as you think. During the last year they have turned the old College in North Bromwich into a University. They give a degree in medicine. And while you were studying there you could still live with me at Halesby. I should be glad of your company.” This appeal to Edwin’s pity was difficult to resist. It recalled to him all the resolutions that he had made in the night at Wringford: the devotion with which he had determined to devote himself to his father’s welfare: the determination that he should never do anything that could cause the man a moment’s pain. It was difficult . . . difficult. “You could still get your scholarship,” his father went on. “There are several endowments of that kind at the North Bromwich medical school. I have a pamphlet at home that gives all the particulars. I had even shown it to your mother.” “And what did she say, father?” “She didn’t say much. She knew it would be a great disappointment to you. But I think she realised that it would be a good thing for you; and I know she looked forward to having you at home.” “Yes . . . she must have known what a disappointment it would be. Father, I wish you would think it over again.” “I want you to think it over, too. At present it naturally comes as a shock to you; but I think you’ll see in time. . . .”