y, I suddenly became deadly sick of everything. I simply
couldn't go on. And it was no use going burying myself at Bidborough or
even dear Mintern Abbas; it would have been the same sort of trammelled,
artificial existence. I wanted something utterly different. Scotland
seemed to call to me--not the Scotland we know, not the shooting,
yachting, West Highland Scotland, but the Lowlands, the Borders, our
mother's countryside.

"I remembered how Lewis Elliot (I wonder where he is now--it is ages
since I heard of him) used to tell us about a little town on the Tweed
called Priorsford. It was his own little town, his birthplace and I
thought the name sung itself like a song. I made inquiries about rooms
and found that in a little house called Hillview, owned by one Bella
Bathgate, I might lodge. I liked the name of the house and its owner,
and I hope to find in Priorsford peace and great content.

"Having been more or less of a fool for forty years, I am now going to
try to get understanding. It won't be easy, for we are told that 'it
cannot be gotten with gold, neither shall silver be weighed for the
price thereof.... No mention shall be made of coral and pearls: for the
price of wisdom is above rubies.'

"I am going to walk on the hills all day, and in the evening I shall
read the Book of Job and Shakespeare and Sir Walter.

"In one of the Jungle Books there was a man called Sir Purun Dass--do
you remember? Sir Purun Dass, K.C.I.E., who left all his honours and
slipped out one day to the sun-baked highway with nothing but an
ochre-coloured garment and a beggar's bowl. I always envied that man.
Not that I could rise to such Oriental heights. The beggar's bowl
wouldn't do for me. I cling to my comforts: also, I am sure Sir Purun
Dass left himself no loophole whereby he might slip back to his official
position whereas I-----Well, the Politician thinks I have gone for a
three months' rest cure, and at sixty one is not impatient. You will
say, 'How like Pam!' Yes, isn't it? I always was given to leaving myself
loopholes; but, all the same, I am not going to face an old age
bolstered up by bridge and cosmetics. There must be other props, and I
mean to find them. I mean to possess my soul. I'm not all froth, but, if
I am, Priorsford will reveal it. I feel that there will be something
very revealing about Miss Bella Bathgate.

"Poor Biddy, to have such an effusion hurled at you!

"But you'll admit I don't often mention my so