"That’s my business, my dear," he said, and never had he looked more manly or more attractive. "Somehow, we all seem to have lost you lately. They all say that--Kitty, Aunt Betty, even the Rosmeads. They were speaking of you the other day. You haven’t treated us well, Isla, whatever you may think. And now, this beats everything." "The train is moving, Neil. Get down, or you will be hurt," she cried nervously. But he still hung persistently to the half-open door. "You’ll write, Isla. Promise at least that you will write either to Kitty or to me?" "I’ll write to Kitty. Give her my love and tell her she’ll hear from me without fail in a week or two." "And if you want a friend, Isla, if there’s anything I can do for you, promise you’ll send for me or let me know. There isn’t anything I won’t do. No journey would be too long or too difficult if I had the prospect of serving you at the end of it, and--and well, you know the rest, don’t you? I daren’t say all I want." A strong hand behind him took him by the coat-tails and dragged him from the now swiftly moving train, and the last Isla saw of Lochearn was Neil Drummond’s face and the appeal in his eyes. Malcolm was too late for the final good-bye, but Isla, on the whole, was rather glad that she had escaped it. She pulled up the open window-sash and flung herself back in the corner with a quick, heaving sigh. It was all over, then. The cords had been cut, and she was adrift from Glenogle and all the trammels of the old life. What would the new bring, she wondered? A little sob broke from between her trembling lips as her eyes looked through the window at the wide Glen of Balquhidder to the misty hills beyond, where the glory of the heather was beginning to be dimmed. When should she see it all again, and in what mood? At Strathyre her eyes were too red to permit her to look out, and happily no passenger sought to disturb her. By the time the train reached Callander she was calm again, and she arrived at Glasgow, quite composed. She left her luggage in the cloak-room and walked, since she had plenty of time, to the lawyer’s office in St. Vincent Place. Mr. Cattanach was able to see her at once, and he received her with his usual kindness of manner. He had thought a good deal about her of late and had wondered how she was getting on at Creagh with Malcolm, with whom he had had several rather stormy interviews. "I’m on my way to London, Mr. Cattanach, and as I had an hour to spare before my train starts I thought I should like to see you." "Surely. On your way to London, are you? For a long visit?" "Yes. I think so." "Sir Thomas and Lady Mackinnon are still across the Channel, I think. I saw in the News one night lately that they are not expected at Barras till November?" "That’s right, I believe," said Isla. "Are you joining them?" "Not just yet."