It
was not till many years afterwards that I found Theobald's letter in the
pocket of an old portfolio which Ernest had used at school, and in which
other old letters and school documents were collected which I have used
in this book. He had forgotten that he had it, but told me when he saw
it that he remembered it as the first thing that made him begin to rise
against his father in a rebellion which he recognised as righteous,
though he dared not openly avow it. Not the least serious thing was that
it would, he feared, be his duty to give up the legacy his grandfather
had left him; for if it was his only through a mistake, how could he keep
it?
During the rest of the half year Ernest was listless and unhappy. He was
very fond of some of his schoolfellows, but afraid of those whom he
believed to be better than himself, and prone to idealise everyone into
being his superior except those who were obviously a good deal beneath
him. He held himself much too cheap, and because he was without that
physical strength and vigour which he so much coveted, and also because
he knew he shirked his lessons, he believed that he was without anything
which could deserve the name of a good quality; he was naturally bad, and
one of those for whom there was no place for repentance, though he sought
it even with tears.
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