‘No; I mean the scores o’ young an’ middle-aged men daunderin’ about in wigs and gowns, with their hands in their pockets. I suppose every one of them thought he had a prospect of being Lord Chancellor. One of them was a man I had met at College--you may remember him, Alec; Ferguson is his name. He asked me to dine at their mess, and after dinner they sang a song about that. I mind the chorus. It went something like this,’ and Cameron sang in a deep bass voice: ‘Then drink, brothers, drink, And let every brother drink, Who has ever held a soup[2] prosecution; For it’s possible he may Be Lord Chancellor some day-- If he’s only got a sound constitution.’ ‘Tell us where you have been, Blake, since I saw you last,’ said Alec, anxious to turn the conversation from himself and his own prospects. ‘Oh, the usual round--Switzerland, Rome, and Venice. I spent a good while in Venice.’ Cameron looked at the Englishman with admiration and envy. ‘I would like fine to see Rome,’ he said to himself in an undertone. Then he began to ask questions about those cities, which Blake answered as well as he was able. After a time the conversation changed again, for Alec began to talk to Cameron about their old College friends, and Blake walked on in silence. He was comparing, in his own mind, his lot in life with that of the two young men beside him. His advantages had been so much greater than theirs, and his performances had been so trifling! He had seen, and admired, and copied: they had struggled and acted. He was already feeling wearied of life, while Cameron was beginning what promised to be a successful career of great usefulness, and Alec was bravely setting out to battle with the world. Would he never be able to give anything to his fellow-men in return for the food he ate--never be able to do anything on which he could afterwards look back with satisfaction? Alec interrupted these reflections by hinting that they had better return to the farm, as it was getting late, and it would soon be time for supper. Cameron was in capital spirits, and he managed to infect the whole party with his genial humour. Even Mr. Lindsay thawed visibly, and spoke to his son more kindly than he had done since Alec had refused to walk in the way he had chosen for him. The next two days passed rapidly and pleasantly, Cameron still remaining a guest at the farm. Blake, meanwhile, perceived quite clearly that time had made no change in his sentiments towards Margaret. She seemed to him more beautiful than ever, and more soft and womanly than she had appeared before. And in spite of his better judgment, he longed to end the struggle that was going on within him, by asking her to be his wife.