It was so fortunate for them, they considered, that Bernard Cameron’s father had left him £25,000 safely invested. Doris’s father, Mr. Anderson, a retired barrister, was one of Bernard’s trustees, the other was a Mr. Hamilton, a minister, who knew little about business but had been an intimate friend of the late Mr. Cameron’s. Mr. Hamilton was expected at Bernard’s home on the day following, when both trustees would meet to hand over to the young man the securities of the money they held in trust for him. Mrs. Cameron would then cease to receive the income that had been allowed her for the maintenance of her son, and it would become Bernard’s duty to supplement her slender resources in the way which seemed best to her and to him. There were people who blamed the late Mr. Cameron for leaving the bulk of his property to his son, instead of to his widow--that happened owing to an estrangement which had arisen between husband and wife during the last years of Mr. Cameron’s life. Bernard mourned still for the father of whom his mother never spoke; but he was attached to her also, for she was a good mother to him, and he meant to do his duty as her son. It was his intention after taking his degree to devote himself to tutorial work, as he was fond of boys. In fact he intended to keep a school, and he told Doris this as they walked home together, adding that he should realise part of his capital for the purpose of starting the school. He talked so convincingly of the number of boys he would have, the way in which he would manage them, the profits which would accrue from the school-keeping, and the enormous influence for good which he hoped the scheme would give him over the young and susceptible minds of his pupils, that Doris felt convinced that the enterprise would succeed, and admired his cleverness, business-like ability, and, above all, his wish to help others in the best and highest way. Timidly, yet with a few well chosen words, she sought to deepen and strengthen his purpose, assuring him that nothing could be nobler or more useful than to teach and train the young, and promising that she would do everything in her power to assist him. *CHAPTER II.* *A TERRIBLE WRONG.* All day and all night I can hear the jar Of the loom of life, and near and far It thrills with its deep and muffled sound As the tireless wheels go round and round. Busily, ceaselessly, goes the loom, In the light of day and the midnight’s gloom. The wheels are turning, early and late, And the woof is wound in warp of fate. Click! Click! There’s a thread of love wove in: Click! Click! another of wrong and sin-- What a checkered thing will this life be When we see it unrolled in eternity! _Anon._