to deserve it by diligence in the
fulfilment of his duties, whether patrons were likely to hear of it or not;
doing nothing solely with an eye to promotion except, perhaps, the writing of
two ecclesiastical articles, which, having no signature, were attributed to some
one else, except by the patrons who had a special copy sent them, and these
certainly knew the author but did not read the articles. The Rector, however,
chewed no poisonous cud of suspicion on this point: he made marginal notes on
his own copies to render them a more interesting loan, and was gratified that
the Archdeacon and other authorities had nothing to say against the general
tenor of his argument. Peaceful authorship! - living in the air of the fields
and downs, and not in the thrice-breathed breath of criticism - bringing no
Dantesque leanness; rather, assisting nutrition by complacency, and perhaps
giving a more suffusive sense of achievement than the production of a whole
Divina Commedia. Then there was the father's recovered delight in his favourite
son, which was a happiness outweighing the loss of eighteen hundred a-year. Of
whatever nature might be the hidden change wrought in Rex by the disappointment
of his first love, it was apparently quite secondary to that evidence of more
serious ambition which dated from the family misfortune; indeed, Mr. Gascoigne
was inclined to regard the little affair which had caused him so much anxiety
the year before as an evaporation of superfluous moisture, a kind of finish to
the baking process which the human dough demands. Rex had lately come down for a
summer visit to the Rectory, bringing Anna home, and while he showed nearly the
old liveliness with his brothers and sisters, he continued in his holiday the
habits of the eager student, rising early in the morning and shutting himself up
early in the evenings to carry on a fixed course of study.
    »You don't repent the choice of the law as a profession, Rex?« said his
father.
    »There is no profession I would choose before it,« said Rex. »I should like
to end my life as a first-rate judge, and help to draw up a code. I reverse the
famous dictum - I should say, Give me something to do with making the laws, and
let who will make the songs.«
    »You will have to stow in an immense amount of rubbish, I suppose - that's
the worst of it,« said the Rector.
    »I don't see that law-rubbish is worse than any other sort. It is not so