One day, these letters proved too much
for me, and I packed away my paints and brushes, and made my vow unto
the Lord that I would be 'useless and lazy' no longer, but would do
something with myself. In consequence, I found myself within three weeks
walking the London hospitals, finishing my course, that I might join
that band of men who were doing something with life, or, if throwing
it away, were not losing it for nothing. I had finished being a fool,
I hoped, at least a fool of the useless and luxurious kind. The letter
that came from Graeme, in reply to my request for a position on his
staff, was characteristic of the man, both new and old, full of gayest
humour and of most earnest welcome to the work.
Mrs. Mavor's reply was like herself--
'I knew you would not long be content with the making of pictures, which
the world does not really need, and would join your friends in the dear
West, making lives that the world needs so sorely.'
But her last words touched me strangely--
'But be sure to be thankful every day for your privilege.
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