Anderson
laughed heartily.
'Come into my room till dinner-time,' he said, opening the door by
which he had entered.
To Robert's astonishment, he found himself in a room bare as that of
the poorest cottage. A small square window, small as the window in
John Hewson's, looked out upon a garden neatly kept, but now 'having
no adorning but cleanliness.' The place was just the benn end of a
cottage. The walls were whitewashed, the ceiling was of bare
boards, and the floor was sprinkled with a little white sand. The
table and chairs were of common deal, white and clean, save that the
former was spotted with ink. A greater contrast to the soft, large,
richly-coloured room they had left could hardly be imagined. A few
bookshelves on the wall were filled with old books. A fire blazed
cheerily in the little grate. A bed with snow-white coverlet stood
in a recess.
'This is the nicest room in the house, Robert,' said the doctor.
'When I was a student like you--'
Robert shook his head,
'I'm nae student yet,' he said; but the doctor went on:
'I had the benn end of my father's cottage to study in, for he
treated me like a stranger-gentleman when I came home from college.
The father respected the son for whose advantage he was working
like a slave from morning till night. My heart is sometimes sore
with the gratitude I feel to him. Though he's been dead for thirty
years--would you believe it, Robert?--well, I can't talk more about
him now.
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