“And you?”

Philip looked away.  He was ashamed to answer that he felt himself unworthy.

“I don’t know any life that’s so full of happiness as ours.  I wish I could make you feel what a wonderful privilege it is.  One can serve God in every walk, but we stand nearer to Him.  I don’t want to influence you, but if you made up your mind—­oh, at once—­you couldn’t help feeling that joy and relief which never desert one again.”

Philip did not answer, but the headmaster read in his eyes that he realised already something of what he tried to indicate.

“If you go on as you are now you’ll find yourself head of the school one of these days, and you ought to be pretty safe for a scholarship when you leave.  Have you got anything of your own?”

“My uncle says I shall have a hundred a year when I’m twenty-one.”

“You’ll be rich.  I had nothing.”

The headmaster hesitated a moment, and then, idly drawing lines with a pencil on the blotting paper in front of him, went on.

“I’m afraid your choice of professions will be rather limited.  You naturally couldn’t go in for anything that required physical activity.”

Philip reddened to the roots of his hair, as he always did when any reference was made to his club-foot.  Mr. Perkins looked at him gravely.

“I wonder if you’re not oversensitive about your misfortune.  Has it ever struck you to thank God for it?”

Philip looked up quickly.  His lips tightened.  He remembered how for months, trusting in what they told him, he had implored God to heal him as He had healed the Leper and made the Blind to see.

“As long as you accept it rebelliously it can only cause you shame.  But if you looked upon it as a cross that was given you to bear only because your shoulders were strong enough to bear it, a sign of God’s favour, then it would be a source of happiness to you instead of misery.”

He saw that the boy hated to discuss the matter and he let him go.

But Philip thought over all that the headmaster had said, and presently, his mind taken up entirely with the ceremony that was before him, a mystical rapture seized him.  His spirit seemed to free itself from the bonds of the flesh and he seemed to be living a new life.  He aspired to perfection with all the passion that was in him.  He wanted to surrender himself entirely to the service of God, and he made up his mind definitely that he would be ordained.  When the great day arrived, his soul deeply moved by all the preparation, by the books he had studied and above all by the overwhelming influence of the head, he could hardly contain himself for fear and joy.  One thought had tormented him.  He knew that he would have to walk alone through the chancel, and he dreaded showing his limp thus obviously, not only to the whole school, who were attending the service, but also to the strangers, people from the city or parents who had come to see their sons confirmed.  But when the time came he felt suddenly that he could accept the humiliation joyfully; and as he limped up the chancel, very small and insignificant beneath the lofty vaulting of the Cathedral, he offered consciously his deformity as a sacrifice to the God who loved him.