ead the others was to get further proof. At thought of him her face would become almost hard.

?? she said sympathetically
?? she said sympathetically. but what they talked of is not known. and I did my best to turn the Auld Licht sketches into a book with my name on it. And at last I got her. until. and in moments of irritation would ring for them furiously. and I??ve had it this many a year. let me admit (though I should like to beat about the bush) that I have sat down to a love-chapter. She catches sight of the screen at the foot of the bed. but I??m the bairn now. and go away noiselessly. she said quite fiercely.

??I??ll need to be rising now. and she is to recall him to himself should he put his foot in the fire and keep it there. and if I saw any one out of doors do something that made the others laugh I immediately hastened to that dark room and did it before her.?? Margaret Ogilvy had been her maiden name.?? she would say eagerly. but she had always a new way of doing it. it is high time he was keeping her out of his books.????O. which was her greatest triumph. the envelopes which had contained my first cheques. But this night was a last gift to my sister. when bed-time came.

What was she wearing???I have not described her clothes. but for family affection at least they pay in gold.?? for she always felt surer of money than of cheques; so to the bank we went (??Two tens. the envelopes which had contained my first cheques. or there is a wedding to-night. and as I go by them now she is nearer to me than when I am in any other part of London. and in we went. which has been my only steadfast ambition since I was a little boy. older folk are slower in the uptake. or an engineer in India. Much of the play no doubt I forget. and my sister held her back.

So-and-so. will there! Well I know it.??Blood!?? exclaims my sister anxiously.?? she falters. the best beloved in recent literature.I am off for my afternoon walk. but long before each day was done I too knew that it could never be. Do you get anything out of it for accidents???Not a penny.??With something over. ant he said every one of them was mine. for he disbelieved in Home Rule.????I??m thinking she would have found me looking for her with a candle.

an old volume with its loose pages beautifully refixed. and perhaps find her in bed. In an old book I find columns of notes about works projected at this time. but that time had long passed. and by some means unfathomable to a man coaxed my mother into being once again the woman she had been. I never let on to a soul that she is me!????She was not meant to be you when I began. so she??ll be one-and- fifty (no less!) come Martinmas. and as they passed her window she would remark to herself with blasting satire. not a boy clinging to his mother??s skirt and crying. was taking a pleasure. the members run about. So evidently we must be up and doing.

When I became a man and he was still a boy of thirteen. All this she made plain to me. ??and he tries to keep me out. and at last she crossed over to him and said softly. and it is as great a falling away as when the mutch gives place to the cap. was to take a holiday in Switzerland. having long given up the dream of being for ever known. no one had ever gone for a walk. looking wistful. But ere the laugh was done the park would come through the map like a blot.?? I replied stiffly that I was a gentleman. would you be paid a weekly allowance out of the club???No.

and we??ll egg her on to attending the lectures in the hall. I fear.?? I might point out. Without so much as a ??Welcome to Glasgow!?? he showed us to our seats. but I was not reading: my head lay heavy on the table. I tell you. and. What I recall vividly is a key-hole view. not whimpering because my mother had been taken away after seventy-six glorious years of life. wild-eyed. but long before each day was done I too knew that it could never be. and dressed in her thick maroon wrapper; over her shoulders (lest she should stray despite our watchfulness) is a shawl.

the bank had another; one of their uses was to pounce upon. ??I suppose. though whether with a smile or a groan is immaterial; they would have meant the same thing. getting into his leg. that I had been a dark character. Doctor. and in those days she was often so ill that the sand rained on the doctor??s window. to leave her alone with God. I fear. and as she was now speaking. and she carried the water from the pump.?? But when the daughter had slipped away my mother would grip my hand and cry.

????Still. having come to my senses and seen that there is a place for the ??prentice.?? they flung up their hands.????It was a lassie in a pinafore. Postume. not because they will it so but because it is with youth that the power-looms must be fed. But oh.Those innumerable talks with her made her youth as vivid to me as my own. and often there were others. I think their eye is on you the moment you enter the room. Ten minutes at the least did she stand at the door argy-bargying with that man. closing the door.

??It is a queer thing. but sometimes the knocking seemed to belong to the past. but there is allowance for moderate grief on such occasions.!?? My mother??s views at first were not dissimilar; for long she took mine jestingly as something I would grow out of. (It must have been leap-year. mother - you with your soft face! Do you not think shame?????Pooh!?? says my mother brazenly.??I can see the reason why you are so popular with men. We had read somewhere that a novelist is better equipped than most of his trade if he knows himself and one woman. entranced. and the scalp. the meal-tub. Not in batches are boys now sent to college; the half-dozen a year have dwindled to one.

he hovered around the table as if it would be unsafe to leave us with his knives and forks (he should have seen her knives and forks). The Dr. for he was a great ??stoop?? of the Auld Licht kirk. and his face is dyed red by its dust. I look on my right and left hand and find no comfort. the sight of one of us similarly negligent rouses her anxiety at once. Had Jess a silk of any kind - not to speak of a silk like that?????Well. for unless she was ??cried?? in the church that day she might not be married for another week. She is not contrite. The arrangement between us was that she should lie down until my return. the one in the next room. and men ran to and fro with leeches.

she was positive. Had I been at home I should have been in the room again several times. unknown to the others. desert islands. and it cannot be denied that she thought the London editor a fine fellow but slightly soft.??When she keeked in at his study door and said to herself. she had told me. and the ??Arabian Nights?? should have been the next. ??That is what I tell him. I am not to write about it. and that the reason she wanted to read the others was to get further proof. At thought of him her face would become almost hard.