alds had lost
its money and its love of Scotland. Old Duncan MacDonald was the uncle
of the last lord of Dhrum, who had to go away from his island for good
and let his castle to 'aliens'--English people. When the nephew died
later, Duncan inherited, but never lived at Dhrum. He only came there
once in a while to visit the tenants who'd hired the castle from him, if
they happened to be people he knew, and would 'do' him well. He and his
daughter were mostly in London, where they had a flat, and prided
themselves on knowing no Gaelic. They took pains to show that they
considered the crofter's son a common brat, and resented the
meenister's' expecting them to do anything for his future, just because
his name happened to be MacDonald, and he lived in a hut on a remote
point of their island. Ian didn't lose courage, though; and soon after
the great snub he contrived to work his way somehow to Edinburgh. He
wouldn't take the money his father and mother had saved up for him,
because they were old and had been ill, and needed it themselves. But he
did all kinds of queer jobs, and at last walked into the studio of a
celebrated artist, saying he wanted to pay for some lessons. At first
the man only laughed, but when he saw Ian's drawings, he was interested
at once. He gave him lessons for nothing, and boasted of his protege to
other artists. It seems that a talent for both portraiture and
architecture is very rare. When Ian was sixteen he won a big prize for
the design of an important building which a lot of prominent architects
had been trying for. Presently it came out that he was only a boy, a boy
who could do wonderful portraits, too, and everybody began taking notice
of him and writing enthusiastic praise in the papers. Some interviewer
falsely reported that he'd called himself a cousin of the MacDonald of
Dhrum, and disagreeable Duncan denied the relationship indignantly. He
spoke to some one of Ian's father, who had just then died, as 'an
ignorant old hay-cutter,' and the speech was repeated far and wide. You
can imagine Ian Somerled forgetting an insult to his adored father! He
dropped the name of MacDonald from that day, calling himself Somerled;
and as he was all alone in the world--his mother was dead, too, and had
never seen his success--he resolved to make a reputation in another
country. Of course that was very _young_ of him. He sees that now. He
crossed to New York in the steerage, and vowed he'd never set foot in