life. Failing the exhibition, of course there will be no chance of your
going up to the university; and you must give up the hope of entering
the Church. The worst off--the one upon whom this disappointment must
fall the hardest--will be Arthur."

Arthur Channing--astride on the arm of the old-fashioned sofa--lifted
his large deep blue eyes to Constance with a flash of intelligence: it
seemed to say, that she only spoke of what he already knew. He had been
silent hitherto; he was of a silent nature: a quiet, loving, tender
nature: while the rest spoke, he was content to think.

"Ay, that it will!" exclaimed Hamish. "What will become of your
articles now, Arthur?"

It should be explained that Arthur had entered the office of Mr.
Galloway, who was a proctor, and also was steward to the Dean and
Chapter. Arthur was only a subordinate in it, a clerk receiving
pay--and very short pay, too; but it was intended that he should enter
upon his articles as soon as this money that should be theirs enabled
Mr. Channing to pay for them. Hamish might well ask what would become
of his articles now!

"I can't see a single step before me," cried Arthur. "Except that I
must stay on as I am, a paid clerk."

"What rubbish, Arthur!" flashed Tom, who possessed a considerable share
of temper when it was roused. "As if you, Arthur Channing, could remain
a paid clerk at Galloway's! Why, you'd be on a level with Jenkins--old
Jenkins's son. Roland Yorke _would_ look down on you then; more than he
does now. And that need not be!"