That both these objects _might_ be accomplished he was firmly persuaded. At the same time, he was fully aware that to every one else who knew his father and the circumstances which had led to the sad estrangement of the daughter and removal of the mother, such a restoration as he contemplated bringing about would appear absolutely hopeless.  Yet he himself had no doubts on the subject.  The conviction that his purpose might and would be accomplished was stamped into his soul as by an indelible brand.  He was perfectly sure that every hindrance could be removed, though _how_ he could not tell.  But there stood up this conviction ever facing him, ever beckoning him on, as though a messenger from an unseen world.  Not that he was ignorant of nor underrated the magnitude of the obstacles in his way.  He knew and felt most oppressively that everything almost was against him.  The very thought of speaking to his father on the subject made a chill shudder creep over him.  To move a single step in the direction of the attainment of his object required an effort from which his retiring nature shrank as if stung by a spark of white heat.  The opposition, direct or indirect, of those nearest to him was terrible even to contemplate, and was magnified while yet at a distance through the haze of his morbid sensitiveness. Yet his conviction and purpose remained unshaken.  He was, moreover, fully aware that neither mother nor sister had any deep affection for him, and that, should he gain the end he had set before him, he might get no nearer to their hearts than the place he now occupied.  It mattered not; he had devoted himself to his great object as to a work of holy self-denial and labour of love, and from the pursuit of that object nothing should move him, but onward he would struggle towards its attainment, with the steady determination which would crush through hindrances and obstacles by the weight of its tremendous earnestness.