seemed much improved. But it was a temporary improvement only, due in
part, perhaps, to change in environment, and in part to the exhilaration
arising from our reunion, heart and mind for a time dominating the body
and stimulating it to an activity which produced this fair but deceptive
semblance of health. His letters to me breathed the spirit of hope till
almost the last. We never met again. The intention I had cherished of
going to see him was never fulfilled. The illness of my wife and the
death of one of our children, and other unfortunate causes, prevented it;
and in little more than a year and a half from our farewell grasp of the
hand at the railway station in Glasgow my dear and beloved friend
breathed his last. Often and often since I have heard again the music of
his voice, have seen his face smiling upon me, and have felt

"_His being working in mine own_,
_The footsteps of his life in mine_."




CHAPTER XIII.
MEN I MET AND FRIENDS I MADE


Ten years I served the Glasgow and South-Western Railway Company as chief
clerk, or as Mr. Wainwright euphemistically called it, _assistant_ to the
general manager. In that position I met from time to time, not only many
prominent railway men, but also other men of mark.

Amongst these, two stand out with great distinction because of the effect
they had upon me at a memorable interview I had with each. I never