 as
        breathing a hint of opposition, until I have had all the expense of
        sending you to the university, which I should never have done unless I
        had believed you to have made up your mind about taking orders? I have
        letters from you in which you express the most perfect willingness to be
        ordained, and your brother and sisters will bear me out in saying that
        no pressure of any sort has been put upon you. You mistake your own
        mind, and are suffering from a nervous timidity which may be very
        natural but which may not the less be pregnant with serious consequences
        to yourself. I am not at all well, and the anxiety occasioned by your
        letter is naturally preying upon me. May God guide you to a better
        judgement. Your affectionate father,
                                                                   G. Pontifex.«
 
On the receipt of this letter Theobald plucked up his spirits. »My father,« he
said to himself, »tells me I need not be ordained if I do not like. I do not
like, and therefore I will not be ordained.« But what was the meaning of the
words »pregnant with serious consequences to yourself?« Did there lurk a threat
under these words - though it was impossible to lay hold of it or of them? Were
they not intended to produce all the effect of a threat without being actually
threatening? Theobald knew his father well enough to be little likely to
misapprehend his meaning, but having ventured so far on the path of opposition,
and being really anxious to get out of being ordained if he could, he determined
to venture farther. He accordingly wrote the following -
 
        »My Dear Father, You tell me - and I heartily thank you - that no one
        will compel me to be ordained. I knew you would not press ordination
        upon me if my conscience was seriously opposed to it; I have therefore
        resolved on giving up the idea, and believe that if you will continue to
        allow me what you do at present until I get my fellowship, which should
        not be long, I will then cease putting you to further expense. I will
        make up my mind as soon as possible what profession I will adopt, and
        will let you know at once. Your affectionate son,
                                                             Theobald Pontifex.«
 
The remaining letter - written by return of post - must now be given. It has the
merit of brevity -
 
        »Dear Theobald, I have received yours. I am at a loss to conceive its
        motive, but am very clear as to its effect. You shall not receive a
        single sixpence from me till you come to your senses. Should you
