ld me his name was--and who had come to ask
for the loan of a little money, as he was in sore distress.

Every word of his appeal hurt me, and I felt, when the words came
through the open door, as if I should have liked to take my hat and go
away. But I dared not, for I had been set to copy some letters, and I
knew from old experience that if Mr Dempster--Mr Isaac Dempster that
is--came out or called for me, and I was not there, I should have a
repetition of many a painful scene.

I tried not to listen, but every word came, and I heard how unfortunate
Mr John Dempster had been; that his wife had been seriously ill, and
now needed nourishing food and wine; and as all that was said became
mixed up with what I was writing, and the tears would come into my eyes
and make them dim, I found myself making mistakes, and left off in
despair.

I looked cautiously over the double desk, peeping between some books to
see if Esau Dean, my fellow boy-clerk, was watching me; but as usual he
was asleep with his head hanging down over his blotting-paper, and the
sun shining through his pale-coloured knotty curls, which gave his head
the appearance of a black man's bleached to a whitey brown; and as I
looked through the loop-hole between the books, my fellow-clerk's head
faded away, and I was looking back at my pleasant old school-days at
Wiltboro', from which place I was suddenly summoned home two years
before to bid good-bye to my mother before we had to part for ever.

And then all the old home-life floated before me like a bright sunny
picture, and the holidays at the rambling red-brick house with its great
walled garden, where fruit was so abundant that it seemed of no value at
all. There was my pony, and Don and Skurry, the dogs, and the river and
my boat, and the fellows who used to come and spend weeks with me--
school-fellows who always told me what a lucky chap I was; and perhaps
it was as well, for I did not understand it then, not till the news came
of my father's death, and my second summons home. I did not seem to
understand it then--that I was alone in the world, and that almost the
last words my mother said to me would have to be thought out and put to
the test. I had a dim recollection of her holding my hand, and telling
me that whatever came I was to be a man, and patient, and never to give
up; but it was not till months after that I fully realised that in place
of going back to school I was to go at once out into