"Oh, Miss Isla, this is not the place for you--and very well ye ken it. I can gie ye another address. Ye mind Lady Eden’s own maid Martin? She’s in Seymour Street, and doin’ well. Ye should go and see her. She wad be very prood to get ye, I am sure." Isla shook her head, drew her chair a little nearer that of Agnes, and looked at her very straightly. "I can’t afford to go to Martin, even if I liked her--which I never did. Things have not been going very well with me lately, Agnes, and--and it became imperative that I should get away. I can’t explain it to you this morning, and I know you will never ask questions." "I hope I ken my place a little better than that, Miss Isla," said Mrs. Fraser. But her tone was sad. "I’m not at all well off, and, in fact, I must look about immediately for something to do." At this strange announcement Mrs. Fraser fell back in her chair, as if overcome. "Oh, Miss Isla, ye don’t say so! It’s awful, my dear! You to be seekin’ something to do! It’s no richt--it canna be richt. Oh, my dear, what is the meanin’ o’ it?" Isla dashed away a sudden moisture from her eyes. "It’s difficult to explain. You must have known that things were not going well at Achree for a long time, not even in my father’s lifetime. Since he died and my brother has become the Laird affairs have got all muddled, and the outlook is hopeless. Further, we don’t get on, Agnes. You knew Malcolm as a boy of seven years. So perhaps I needn’t say much more." "No. But to let you go out into the world like this--it’s a cryin’ shame! You--a Mackinnon o’ Achree! It shouldna be," said Agnes desperately. "Oh, he did not actually send me out, you know, Agnes. In fact, he thinks I am on my way to France--to my aunt and uncle." "And surely he is richt. That is where ye should be, Miss Isla. Oh, tak’ my advice and go now. London’s a cauld, cruel place for them that has to get their livin’. It’s me and Fraser that kens that. And for you to be oot in it! It minds me on naething but a lamb that has wandered frae its mither amang the little hills and wi’ the snaw comin’ doon like to blind it. Ye canna do it, Miss Isla. Tak’ it frae me that kens--ye canna do it!" "I must, Agnes, and if you can’t encourage me you must hold your tongue, dear soul," said Isla bravely. "Let us get back to the point. Can you let me have a room? In fact, you must let me have a room--quite cheap, though at its market-value and not a penny less. All I want to make sure of is that I am under your roof. Nothing else matters." Agnes, still flushed and nervous, gave the matter rapid consideration. "The drawing-room floor is what ye ocht to hae, Miss Isla." "But I couldn’t pay for it. So, what comes next?"