CHAPTER II.
Andrew reached King's Cross on the following Wednesday morning.
It was the first time he had set foot in England, and he naturally thought of Bannockburn.
He left his box in the cloak-room, and, finding his way into Bloomsbury, took a bed-room at the top of a house in Bernard Street.
Then he returned for his box, carried it on his back to his lodgings, and went out to buy a straw hat.

It had not struck him to be lonely.
He bought two pork pies in an eating-house in Gray's Inn Road, and set out for Harley Street, looking at London on the way.
Mr.Gladstone was at home, but all his private secretaryships were already filled.
Andrew was not greatly disappointed, though he was too polite to say so.

In politics he was a granite-headed Radical; and on several questions, such as the Church and Free Education, the two men were hopelessly at variance.
Mr.Chamberlain was the man with whom, on the whole, he believed it would be best to work.

But Mr.Chamberlain could not even see him.
Looking back to this time, it is impossible not to speculate upon how things might have turned out had the Radical party taken Andrew to them in his day of devotion to their cause.
This is the saddest spectacle in life, a brave young man's first meeting with the world.

How rapidly the milk turns to gall! For the cruellest of his acts the vivisectionist has not even the excuse that science benefits.
Here was a young Scotchman, able, pure, of noble ambition, and a first medallist in metaphysics.