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Father Payne by Arthur Christopher Benson
page 7 of 359 (01%)
LXX. OF WEAKNESS
LXXI. THE BANK OF THE RIVER
LXXII. THE CROSSING
LXXIII. AFTER-THOUGHTS
LXXIV. DEPARTURE




FATHER PAYNE



I

FATHER PAYNE


It was a good many years ago, soon after I left Oxford, when I was
twenty-three years old, that all this happened. I had taken a degree in
Classics, and I had not given much thought to my future profession. There
was no very obvious opening for me, no family business, no influence in any
particular direction. My father had been in the Army, but was long dead. My
mother and only sister lived quietly in the country. I had no prosaic and
practical uncles to push me into any particular line; while on coming of
age I had inherited a little capital which brought me in some two hundred a
year, so that I could afford to wait and look round. My only real taste was
for literature. I wanted to write, but I had no very pressing aspirations
or inspirations. I may confess that I was indolent, fond of company, but
not afraid of comparative solitude, and I was moreover an entire
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