Winter Evening Tales | Page 7

gold. Love had failed him, friendship had
proved an annoyance, company, music, feasting, amusements of all
kinds were a weariness now to think of. There seemed nothing better
for him than to become a rich man.
"I'll buy so many acres of old Scotland and call them by the Lockerby's
name; and I'll have nobles and great men come bowing and becking to
David Lockerby as they do to Alexander Gordon. Love is refused, and
wisdom is scorned, but everybody is glad to take money; then money is
best of all things."
Thus David reasoned, and his father said nothing against his arguments.
Indeed, they had never understood one another so well. David, for the
first time, asked all about the lands of Ellenmount, and pledged himself,
if he lived and prospered, to fulfill his father's hope. Indeed, Andrew
was altogether so pleased with his son that he told his brother-in-law
that the £20,000 would be forthcoming as soon as ever he choose to
advance David in the firm.
"I was only waiting, Lockerby, till Davie got through wi' his playtime.
The lad's myself o'er again, an' I ken weel he'll ne'er be contented until
he settles cannily doon to his interest tables."
So before Andrew Lockerby went back to Glasgow David was one of
the firm of Gordon & Co., sat in the directors' room, and began to feel
some of the pleasant power of having money to lend. After this he was
rarely seen among men of his own age--women he never mingled with.
He removed to his uncle's stately house in Baker street, and assimilated
his life very much to that of the older money maker. Occasionally he
took a run northward to Glasgow, or a month's vacation on the
Continent, but nearly all such journeys were associated with some
profitable loan or investment. People began to speak of him as a most
admirable young man, and indeed in some respects he merited the
praise. No son ever more affectionately honored his father and mother,

and Janet had been made an independent woman by his grateful
consideration.
He was so admirable that he ceased to interest people, and every time
he visited Glasgow fewer and fewer of his old acquaintances came to
see him. A little more than ten years after his admission to the firm of
Gordon & Co. he came home at the new year, and presented his father
with the title-deeds of Ellenmount and Netherby. The next day old
Andrew was welcomed on the City Exchange as "Lockerby of
Ellenmount, gentleman." "I hae lived lang enough to hae seen this day,"
he said, with happy tears; and David felt a joy in his father's joy that he
did not know again for many years. For while a man works for another
there is an ennobling element in his labor, but when he works simply
for himself he has become the greatest of all slaves. This slavery David
now willingly assumed; the accumulation of money became his
business, his pleasure, the sum of his daily life.
Ten years later both his uncle and father were dead, and both had left
David every shilling they possessed. Then he went on working more
eagerly than ever, turning his tens of thousands into hundreds of
thousands and adding acre to acre, and farm to farm, until Lockerby
was the richest estate in Annandale. When he was forty-five years of
age fortune seemed to have given him every good gift except wife and
children, and his mother, who had nothing else to fret about, worried
Janet continually on this subject.
"Wife an' bairns, indeed!" said Janet; "vera uncertain comforts, ma'am,
an' vera certain cares. Our Master Davie likes aye to be sure o' his
bargains."
"Weel, Janet, it's a great cross to me--an' him sae honored, an' guid an'
rich, wi' no a shilling ill-saved to shame him."
"Tut, tut, ma'am! The river doesna' swell wi' clean water. Naebody's
charged him wi' wrangdoing--that's enough. There's nae need to set him
up for a saint."
"An' you wanted him to be a minister, Janet."

"I was that blind--ance."
"We are blind creatures, Janet."
"Wi' excepts, ma'am; but they'll ne'er be found amang mithers."
This conversation took place one lovely Sabbath evening, and just at
the same time David was standing thoughtfully on Princes street,
Edinburgh, wondering to which church he had better turn his steps. For
a sudden crisis in the affairs of a bank in that city had brought him
hurriedly to Scotland, and he was not only a prudent man who
considered public opinion, but was also in a mood to conciliate that
opinion so long as the outward conditions were favorable. Whatever he
might do in London, in Scotland he always went to morning and
evening service.
He was