"That's just it; but it's so difficult doing things with men who have
loads of money. It never seems to occur to them that other people
haven't got it. Of course I just say I can't afford to do things, but
that's awkward too, for they look so surprised and sort of ashamed, and
it makes me feel a prig and a fool. I think having a lot of money takes
away people's imagination."

"Oh, it does," Jean agreed.

"Anyway," David went on, "it's up to me to make some money. I hate
sponging on you, old Jean, and I'm not going to do it. I've been trying
my hand at writing lately and--I've had two things accepted."

Jean all but fell into the fire in her surprise and delight.

"Write! You! Oh, Davie, how utterly splendid!"

A torrent of questions followed, which David answered as well as he
could.

"Yes, they are printed, and paid for, and what's more I've spent the
money." He brought out from his pocket a small leather case which he
handed to his sister.

"For me? Oh, David!" Her hands shook as she opened the box and disclosed
a small brooch, obviously inexpensive but delicately designed.

"It's nothing," said David, walking away from the emotion in his
sister's face. "With the rest of the money I got presents for the boys
and Mrs. M'Cosh and Peter, but they'd better be kept out of sight till
Christmas Day."

Truth to tell, he had meant to keep the brooch also out of sight till
Christmas, but the temptation to see Jean's pleasure had been too
strong. This Jean divined and, with happy tears in her eyes, handed it
back to him to keep till the proper giving-day arrived.

The next day David was introduced to Pamela and her brother, and was
pleased to pronounce well of them. He had been inclined to be
distrustful about the entrance of such exotic creatures as they sounded
into the quiet of Priorsford, but having seen and talked to them he
assured his sister they were quite all right.

Why, Lord Bidborough had been at David's own college--that alone was
recommendation enough. His feats, too, were still remembered, not feats
of scholarship--oh no, but of mountaineering on the college roofs. He
had not realised when Jean mentioned Lord Bidborough in her letters that
it was the same man who was still spoken of by undergraduates with bated
breath.

Of Pamela, David attempted no criticism. How could he? He was at her
feet, and hardly dared lift his eyes to her face. A smile or two, a few
of Pamela's softly spoken sentences, an