It would not be easy to define the reasons which induced Mr. Ambrose to receive John Short under his roof.  He had never before taken a pupil on any but his usual terms, and at his time of life it was strange that he should break through the rule.  But here his peculiar views of charity came into play.  Short’s father had been his own chum at school, and his friend at college, but had failed to reap any substantial benefits from his education.  He had been a scholar in his way, but his way had not been the way of other scholars, and when he had gone up for honours he had got a bad third in classics.  He would not enter the church, he could not enter the law, he had no interest whatever, and he found himself naturally thrust into the profession of literature.  For a time he had nearly starved; then he had met with some success and had, of course, married without hesitation; after this he had had more misfortunes.  His wife had died leaving him an only son, whom in course of time he had sent to school.  But school was too expensive and he had reluctantly taken the boy home again.  It was in a fit of despair that he wrote to his old friend Augustin Ambrose, asking his advice.  The Reverend Augustin considered the matter with the assistance of his wife, and being charitable souls, they determined that they must help Short to educate his son.  Accordingly the vicar of Billingsfield wrote to his old friend to say that if he could manage to pay a small sum for the lad’s board, he, the vicar, would complete the boy’s education, so that he might at least have a chance in the world.  Short accepted the offer with boundless gratitude and had hitherto not failed to pay the vicar the small sum agreed upon.  The result of all this was that Mr. Ambrose had grown very fond of John, and John had derived great advantage from his position.  He possessed precisely what his father had lacked, namely a strong bent in one direction, and there was no doubt that he would distinguish himself if he had a chance.  That chance the vicar had determined to give him.  He had made up his mind that his old friend’s son should go to college and show what he was able to do.  It was not an easy thing to manage, but the vicar had friends in Cambridge and John had brains; moreover the vicar and John were both very obstinate people and had both determined upon the same plan, so that there was a strong probability of their succeeding.

John Short was eighteen years of age, neither particularly good-looking nor by any means the reverse.  He had what bankers commonly call a lucky face; that is to say he had a certain very prepossessing look of honesty in his blue eyes, and a certain look of energetic goodwill in his features.  When he was much older and wore a beard he passed for a handsome man, but at eighteen he could only boast the smallest of fair whiskers, and when anybody took the trouble to look long at him, which was not often, the verdict was that his jaw was too heavy and his mouth too obstinate.