It might be feared that tastes so
discursive would be disadvantageous to a lad who must needs pursue some definite
bread-study, and the strain of self-consciousness which grew strong in him was
again a matter for concern. He cared nothing for boyish games and companionship;
in the society of strangers - especially of females - he behaved with an
excessive shyness which was easily mistaken for a surly temper. Reproof,
correction, he could not endure, and it was fortunate that the decorum of his
habits made remonstrance seldom needful.
    Ludicrous as the project would have appeared to any unbiassed observer of
character, Miss Cadman conceived a hope that Godwin might become a clergyman.
From her point of view it was natural to assume that uncommon talents must be
devoted to the service of the Church, and she would have gladly done her utmost
for the practical furthering of such an end. Mrs. Peak, though well aware that
her son had imbibed the paternal prejudices, was disposed to entertain the same
hope, despite solid obstacles. For several years she had nourished a secret
antagonism to her husband's spirit of political, social, and religious
rebellion, and in her widowhood she speedily became a pattern of the
conservative female. It would have gratified her to discern any possibility of
Godwin's assuming the priestly garb. And not alone on the ground of conscience.
Long ago she had repented the marriage which connected her with such a family as
that of the Peaks, and she ardently desired that the children, now exclusively
her own, might enter life on a plane superior to their father's.
    »Godwin, how would you like to go to College and be a clergyman?« she asked
one Sunday afternoon, when an hour or two of congenial reading seemed to have
put the boy into a gentle humour.
    To go to College was all very well (diplomacy had prompted this preface),
but the words that followed fell so alarmingly on Godwin's ear that he looked up
with a resentful expression, unable to reply otherwise.
    »You never thought of it, I suppose?« his mother faltered; for she often
stood in awe of her son, who, though yet but fourteen, had much of his father's
commanding severity.
    »I don't want to be a parson,« came at length, bluntly.
    »Don't use that word, Godwin.«
    »Why not? It's quite a proper word. It comes from the Latin persona.«
    The mother had enough discretion to keep silence, and Godwin, after in vain
trying to settle