After supper Morris brought us back to the library, where we smoked and chatted till towards eleven o'clock, when the other guests departed. He sat with me about half an hour longer, then filling my hands with books to have something to read in my bedroom, he expressed his pleasure at my coming up to the Conference, and wished me a jolly night's rest.
The next morning—Whit-Sunday—I was wakened with the singing and trumpetings of steamer-loads of holiday seekers making for Kew Gardens, Hampton Court Palace, and Richmond, and the merry tumult of boating parties on the river. The sunshine was streaming across my bed and seemed laden with the festive din. This was my first Whit-Sunday experience in London, and I recall the impression of public joyousness in English life which the sound of this outside merriment made upon my Scottish mind. Morris himself was early astir, and came to see that I was all right and getting up. 'This is the morning of battle for us,' he said; 'miserable kind of battle though it be, it is imposed upon us, and we must not be late for the fray.'
Breakfast over, we were joined in the library by Walker, Tarleton, and several other comrades, delegates from the Hammersmith and neighbouring branches, and were soon, including May Morris, on our way, journeying by 'bus from the Broadway to Farringdon Road, where the headquarters of the League then were, and where the Conference was held. It is not my intention to give an account of the Conference proceedings, the details of which have passed from my memory, and, in any case, now possess no interest. It is enough to say that the discussion, or rather wrangling, continued the whole day from 10.30 in the morning till nearly 10 o'clock at night, with a break at lunch-time and tea-time. Ernest Radford was, I remember, chairman, and among those present was Belfort Bax.
Almost every delegate present put in one or more
