I hope to persuade Father Burrowes to have me on probation.  If he once does that, I’m sure that I shall satisfy him.  This sounds like the letter of a conceited clerk.  It must be the fault of this horrible inn pen, which is like writing with a tooth-pick dipped in a puddle!  I thought it was best not to stay at the Rectory, with Esther on the verge of her profession.  It wouldn’t be fair to her at a time like this to make my immediate future a matter of prime importance.  So do forgive my going off in this fashion.  I suppose it’s just possible that some bishop will accept me for ordination from Malford, though no doubt it’s improbable.  This will be a matter to discuss with Father Burrowes later.

Do forgive what looks like a most erratic course of procedure.  But I really should hate a long discussion, and if I make a mistake I shall have had a lesson.  It really is essential for me to be tremendously occupied.  I cannot say more than this, but I do beg you to believe that I’m not taking this apparently unpremeditated step without a very strong reason.  It’s a kind of compromise with my ambition to re-establish in the English Church an order of preaching friars.  I haven’t yet given up that idea, but I’m sure that I ought not to think about it seriously until I’m a priest.

I’m staying here to-night after a glorious day’s tramp, and to-morrow morning I shall take the train and go by Reading and Basingstoke to Malford.  I’ll write to you as soon as I know if I’m accepted.  My best love to everybody, and please tell Esther that I shall think about her on St. Mary Magdalene’s Day.

     Yours always affectionately,

     Mark.

To Esther he wrote by the same post: 

     My dear Sister Esther Magdalene,

Do not be angry with me for running away, and do not despise me for trying to enter a monastery in such a mood.  I’m as much the prey of religion as you are.  And I am really horrified by the revelation of what I am capable of.  I saw in your eyes yesterday the passion of your soul for Divine things.  The memory of them awes me.  Pray for me, dear sister, that all my passion may be turned to the service of God.  Defend me to your brother, who will not understand my behaviour.

     Mark.

Three days later Mark wrote again to the Rector: 

     The Abbey,

     Malford,

     Surrey.

     June 27th.

     My dear Rector,

I do hope that you’re not so much annoyed with me that you don’t want to hear anything about my monastic adventures.  However, if you are you can send back this long letter unopened.  I believe that is the proper way to show one’s disapproval by correspondence.

I reached Malford yesterday afternoon, and after a jolly walk between high hazel hedges for about two miles I reached the Abbey.  It