Mr. Carleton looked at him smiling. He had a pleasant ugly face, with
little kind eyes and sensitive mouth.

"You must ask Mr. Ralph," he said, "or rather you must not. But he knows
more than any of us."

"I wish he would not speak like that."

"Dear lad," said the priest, "you must not feel it like that. Remember
our Lord bore contempt as well as pain."

There was silence a moment, and then Chris began again. "Tell me about
Lewes, father. What will it be like?"

"It will be bitterly hard," said the priest deliberately. "Christ Church
was too bitter for me, as you know. I came out after six months, and the
Cluniacs are harder. I do not know if I lost my vocation or found it;
but I am not the man to advise you in either case."

"Ralph thinks it is easy enough. He told me last night in the carriage
that I need not trouble myself, and that monks had a very pleasant time.
He began to tell me some tale about Glastonbury, but I would not hear
it."

"Ah," said the chaplain regretfully, "the world's standard for monks is
always high. But you will find it hard enough, especially in the first
year. But, as I said, I am not the man to advise you--I failed."

Chris looked at him with something of pity in his heart, as the priest
fingered the iron pen on the table, and stared with pursed lips and