se words, for they were true. After
you had retired I sat for a long time and then it became clear to me
that you should know in good time that other part of my life, for
there really was another.

"I had not seen the colours on the creek nor the brown ribbon on the
green velvet, as I sat by the window. Instead I saw the streets of old
Edinburgh, the shadows heavy in the Greyfriars' churchyard, the
familiar scenes along High Street of an evening, when the students
were out laughing and joking, strolling along, each with hand on the
other's shoulder, and I among them. For I was as care-free as any one
of them all. The good mother had not let me see that she was making
any sacrifice in giving me those years at the University, and I was
confident of the future.

"I have told you of those days, but not that my mates knew me as David
Cameron,--David Allison Cameron, to be exact, Allison being my
mother's name. 'Why should you change it?' I can hear you ask,
apprehension in your voice. That is the part of my life in which you
are now to share. Nor do I clearly know why you have not been
permitted to do so before. It was no guilt of mine that caused me to
change my name, except, possibly, that I was influenced by pride. My
father's brother was a merchant in Glasgow, who urged that I become
his apprentice. Mother was all for having me educated. I think the
dear soul hoped to hear me expound in the kirk, as possibly she might
but for the cold that came upon her and, before I realized what it
meant, the good doctor was telling me it would be her last illness.

"Ah! the mists hung heavy over the lowlands the morning I turned my
face toward London, where I was determined to seek fame and fortune. I
might have gone to my uncle in Glasgow, but no, mother had wished
otherwise and I was as proud as I was inexperienced.

"I will not pain you with a recital of the struggles I endured until,
as I thought, Fortune came to my relief and Lord Ralston engaged me as
the tutor of his son, Dick. And, when I saw the lad, my happiness was
complete. He was a handsome fellow, generous to a fault, and his
pleasant smile and hearty greeting won me at the first. The stipend,
to one impoverished as I was, seemed munificent, but I soon found that
Handsome Dick, as he was called, made sure the spending of it should
not trouble me. He could borrow a pound or two as if doing one a
favour, and I knew it was with the firm intention that I should have
it