Will made a face at the gruel she presented.
“I dare say it is good for me, though I can’t say I like it, or the headache. But, Graeme, I did not get this check before I needed it. It is pleasant to be first, and I was beginning to like it. Now this precious month taken from me, at the time I needed it most, will put me back. To be sure,” added he, with a deprecating glance, “it is not much to be first among so few. But as Janet used to say, Pride is an ill weed and grows easily—flourishes even on a barren soil; and in the pleasure and excitement of study, it is not difficult to forget that it is only a means to an end.”
“Yes,” said Graeme, “it is easy to forget what we ought to remember.”
But it came into Will’s mind that her sympathy did not come so readily as usual, that her thoughts were elsewhere, and he had a feeling that they were such as he was not to be permitted to share. In a little he said,—
“Graeme; I should like very much to go home to Scotland.”
Graeme roused herself and answered cheerfully,—
“Yes, I have never quite given up the hope of going home again; but we should find sad changes, I doubt.”
“But I mean I should like to go home soon. Not for the sake of Clayton and our friends there. I would like to go to fit myself better for the work I have to do in the world.”
“You mean, you would like to go home to study.”
“Yes. One must have a far better opportunity there, and it is a grand thing to be ‘thoroughly furnished’.” There was a pause, and then he added, “If I go, I ought to go soon—within a year or two, I mean.”