torments rather than that any one should suffer as that scoundrel
suffered. Well, and what have I done? I see it now. I have made a
fool of myself, as I said in the beginning; and I have gone back, and
asked my father's pardon, and placed myself wholly in his hands - and he
has sent me to Hermiston," with a wretched smile, "for life, I suppose -
and what can I say? he strikes me as having done quite right, and let me
off better than I had deserved."

"My poor, dear boy!" observed Glenalmond. "My poor dear and, if you
will allow me to say so, very foolish boy! You are only discovering
where you are; to one of your temperament, or of mine, a painful
discovery. The world was not made for us; it was made for ten hundred
millions of men, all different from each other and from us; there's no
royal road there, we just have to sclamber and tumble. Don't think that
I am at all disposed to be surprised; don't suppose that I ever think of
blaming you; indeed I rather admire! But there fall to be offered one
or two observations on the case which occur to me and which (if you will
listen to them dispassionately) may be the means of inducing you to view
the matter more calmly. First of all, I cannot acquit you of a good
deal of what is called intolerance. You seem to have been very much
offended because your father talks a little sculduddery after dinner,
which it is perfectly licit for him to do, and which (although I am not
very fond of it myself) appears to be entirely an affair of taste. Your
father, I scarcely like to remind you, since it is so trite a
commonplace, is older than yourself. At least, he is MAJOR and SUI
JURIS, and may please himself in the matter of his conversation. And,
do you know, I wonder if he might not have as good an answer against you
and me? We say we sometimes find him COARSE, but I suspect he might
retort that he finds us always dull. Perhaps a relevant exception."