Not a sound broke the stillness as I walked up the hall; not a sound as I ascended the platform and faced the people; the canny Scot was not going to applaud a stranger at sight; he was going to see what she was like first.

In grim silence they listened; I could not move them; they were granite like their own granite city, and I felt I would like to take off my head and throw it at them, if only to break that hard wall.

After about twenty minutes, a fortunate phrase drew a hiss from some child of the Covenanters.

I made a quick retort, there was a burst of cheering, and the granite vanished.

Never after that did I have to complain of the coldness of an Aberdeen audience.
Back to London from Aberdeen, and a long, weary journey it was, in a third-class carriage in the cold month of February; but the labour had in it a joy that outpaid all physical discomfort, and the feeling that I had found my work in the world gave a new happiness to life.
On February 28th I stood for the first time on the platform of the Hall of Science, Old Street, St.Luke's, London, and was received with that warmth of greeting which Secularists are always so ready to extend to any who sacrifice aught to join their ranks.