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290
Zuleika Dobson; Or, An Oxford Love Story
·
Sir Max Beerbohm
278
“You
mustn’t
do
that!”
she
cried.
“It
would
be
a
sort
of
sacrilege.
I
am
going
to
be
a
nun.
Besides,
why
should
you?
I
can
quite
well
understand
your
feeling
for
Judas.
But
how
is
Judas
more
disgraced
than
any
other
College?
If
it
were
only
the
Judas
undergraduates
who
had--”
“There
were
others?”
cried
the
Warden.
“How
many?”
“All.
All
the
boys
from
all
the
Colleges.”
The
Warden
heaved
a
deep
sigh.
“Of
course,”
he
said,
“this
changes
the
aspect
of
the
whole
matter.
I
wish
you
had
made
it
clear
at
once.
You
gave
me
a
very
great
shock,”
he
said
sinking
into
his
arm-chair,
“and
I
have
not
yet
recovered.
You
must
study
the
art
of
exposition.”
“That
will
depend
on
the
rules
of
the
convent.”
“Ah,
I
forgot
that
you
were
going
into
a
convent.
Anglican,
I
hope?”
Anglican,
she
supposed.
“As
a
young
man,”
he
said,
“I
saw
much
of
dear
old
Dr.
Pusey.
It
might
have
somewhat
reconciled
him
to
my
marriage
if
he
had
known
that
my
grand-daughter
would
take
the
veil.”
He
adjusted
his
glasses,
and
looked
at
her.
“Are
you
sure
you
have
a
vocation?”
“Yes.
I
want
to
be
out
of
the
world.
I
want
to
do
no
more
harm.”
He
eyed
her
musingly.
“That,”
he
said,
“is
rather
a
revulsion
than
a
vocation.
I
remember
that
I
ventured
to
point
out
to
Dr.
Pusey
the
difference
between
those
two
things,
when
he
was
almost
persuading
me
to
enter
a
Brotherhood
founded
by
one
of
his
friends.
It
may
be
that
the
world
would
be
well
rid
of
you,
my
dear
child.
But
it
is
not
the
world
only
that
we
must
consider.
Would
you
grace
the
recesses
of
the
Church?”
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