The following morning, however, Dr. Macrae reverted over and over to Donald's adventures, and would have been really glad if Donald had taken up the subject again, but he did not care to ask the favor--partly because he was a proud man with his children, and partly because it was not a suitable preface for the serious conversation he intended to have with him. He left the table before Donald and spent the interval in steadying his mind and purpose with regard to his boy's future. Never had he been so dear to his heart, never had he been so proud of his beauty, his fine presence and mental alertness. He told himself the world would be full of temptations to such a youth, so charming, and that it was his manifest duty "to bind him, even with cords, to the horns of the altar." There only he would be safe from the lures of the world, the flesh, and the devil. Many things he was not sure about, but this thing he regarded as a duty from which he could not righteously relieve himself. In the midst of such a positive decision Donald, handsome and happy, entered the room. His father met him with the respect and kindness due from one man to another, whatever their relationship, for Dr. Macrae had fully recognized the preceding evening the manhood of his son, and had resolved in the future to acknowledge it in all his dealings with him. "Sit down, my dear Donald," he said, "I want to talk with you about your future. Your holiday has been a long and delightful one. You have got rid of the commercial life you disliked so much--though, by-the-by, Mr. Reid says you would have made a good business man--now, then, I should like you to start for St. Andrews at once, so as to go in with the entering classes--it is always best. You will find St. Andrews a delightful little city." "I spent three days there a week ago, sir. The classes were gathering then." "And you liked it, I am sure?" "I wished to like it for your sake, Father, but I could not. I disliked everything about it." "I am sorry for that, because you will require to spend a few years there. But, even if you do not like the place, it has many compensations and, among these I count the name that will be yours as soon as you are entered on its list." "The name, sir?" "Yes. You will then be _A Man of St. Andrews_! Other universities have students, scholars, fellows, etc., but St. Andrews breeds _Men_! In after life you will know each other as 'Men' and call each other '_Man_' with the grip of a kindly world-wide brotherhood, for East, West, North, or South St. Andrews' 'Men' soon find each other. Donald, my dear son, be a Man of St. Andrews." "O Father, I cannot. It is impossible! I would rather die." "Speak sensibly, Donald, men don't talk of dying because duty demands of them a certain amount of self-denial."