"There’s the floor below this--the back room. It’s big and very quiet, but it doesna get much sun. There has been a French artist in it, and he painted things on the doors and on the mantelpiece. Some thinks them very bonnie. He gaed oot only last week awa’ back to his ain country, and he was apparently very sorry to leave. He was a very decent man for a Frenchman." "That sounds more like it," said Isla cheerfully. "How much, Agnes? Honest Indian, now--how much did the Frenchman pay?" "Twelve shillings a week, and he had his breakfast for that. But it was a French breakfast--naething but coffee and rolls. I would never charge you that, though. Miss Isla; if ye would just tak’ the room it’s a prood woman I’d be, and as for Fraser, he would be neither to haud nor bind aboot it." "That I can’t do, Agnes, even to see the expansion of Fraser. If you like to give me the room and a French breakfast, with a very occasional egg when they are good and cheap, for twelve shillings a week--why, then, I’ll take it gladly and pay a week in advance if I can come in to-day." "Oh, but, Miss Isla, I am not able yet to see properly to things, and, as I say, I’ve naething but rubbitch in the kitchen. Even at the very best, my hoose is not what you hae been accustomed to, and I should never hae an easy or a happy mind aboot ye." "That’s sad, for I am going to be very easy and happy about myself, dear soul. So, do say I may come in this very afternoon. My things are all at the Euston Hotel, and, of course, staying there is beyond my means altogether." Mrs. Fraser sat back in her chair, and her face was troubled. "Come, of course, and welcome, my dear. But I am wae for ye. And what is it ye think of tryin’ to do? Is it to go as a companion to an old leddy--or what? There is so very little a leddy like you can do." "I read an advertisement in the ’Morning Post’ this morning for a young person to take pet dogs for an airing in the Park. My physical powers would be equal to that, I believe, and it would not need much brain power at least." Agnes hardly even laughed at the suggestion. "I ken what I’m speakin’ aboot, Miss Isla. I have not kept an apartment hoose in London for seven years for naething. The things I hae seen, they would fill a book." "I have no doubt of it, but I’m not going to add to your tragic reminiscences, Agnes. Fortune is now going to begin to smile on me. Don’t let us meet trouble half-way, anyhow. We’ll change the subject. Haven’t you anything to ask about your old friends and neighbours in the Glen?" "I dinna hear frae ony o’ them noo, Miss Isla. Oot o’ sicht oot o’ mind. Hoo’s Elspeth Maclure, and has she ony mair bairns?" "None since the last," laughed Isla.