‘Give me a week to think it over,’ he said at length. ‘It is not fair to ask me to decide a question that will influence the whole course of my life at a moment’s notice.’ To this his father made no reply; and Alec left the house, and wandered off to his old quarters at the ruined castle to hold counsel with himself. At the end of an hour’s thinking he had resolved to reject his uncle’s offer. He saw quite plainly that if he accepted it he would be bound down for life to the narrow life of a Glasgow merchant--if, indeed, he had the chance of ever becoming more than an underling. He must give up the life of a student, for he knew that was practically incompatible with ‘getting on in business.’ And he must say good-bye to his ambitions. Rather than become a money-getting machine like one of the men he had met at his uncle’s table, he would go back to teaching. Then, at least, he could keep up his reading, and continue to attend classes at College. It was, no doubt, a foolish decision to make. But Alec could not help thinking that he could do better with himself than spend the next few years of his life as a clerk in his uncle’s oil-works. He was determined to try to climb the ladder of Fortune, even if he should be thrown down and crushed under the feet of the crowd. ‘After all,’ he said to himself, as he rose from his seat and slowly made his way back to the farm--‘after all, my life is my own. I can but try. I would rather make a struggle to rise, and fail, than not make the attempt. But I don’t mean to fail. The question is, how can I get my foot on the first rung of the ladder? I haven’t five pounds in the world.’ That was the difficulty; but next day a light was thrown on his path, and that from a quarter from which he had never expected it to come. In the afternoon his cousin Semple turned up at the farm. This young man did not at all like the idea of his clever cousin coming to the oil-works. At present he was the only relative of Mr. James Lindsay in the place; and he thought it tolerably certain that at the old man’s death the concern would pass into his hands. If another nephew were introduced, his own prospects might be seriously injured; and so he had thought it worth while to run down to the farm, and see whether he could not secretly dissuade Alec from taking this step. Of course he said nothing about the matter in the presence of Mr. Lindsay or Margaret; and he could not help fancying that the keen eyes of the old laird were watching him as if to divine his intention. But when tea was over, the two young men strolled out together, and Semple began at once: ‘So you are coming to us next week, I hear, Alec.’ ‘How do you know that?’ said the other, with inbred Scotch caution. ‘Oh, Uncle James told me to expect you. Of course you know you’ll have to begin at the beginning, and I fear you won’t find it very much to your taste after your College life.’