"And wish for nothing beyond? Do not wish Will to be other than he
is?"

"God forbid! You frighten me, sir."

"Frighten you! Be it so. Everyone who is happy should be frightened
lest happiness fly away. Do your best to chain it, and you will, for
you attach Duty to Happiness; and," muttered Kenelm, as he turned from
the shop, "Duty is sometimes not a rose-coloured tie, but a heavy
iron-hued clog."

He strode on through the street towards the sign-post with "To Oxford"
inscribed thereon. And whether he spoke literally of the knapsack, or
metaphorically of duty, he murmured, as he strode,--


"A pedlar's pack that bows the bearer down."



CHAPTER VII.



KENELM might have reached Oxford that night, for he was a rapid and
untirable pedestrian; but he halted a little after the moon rose, and
laid himself down to rest beneath a new-mown haystack, not very far
from the high road.

He did not sleep. Meditatingly propped on his elbow, he said to