Isla was sick to death of herself and of the sordid problems of her life. What she wanted was to get away from everything that would remind her of them, and, above all, from the people that would talk about them. "I have no smart clothes for the Riviera, Lady Betty. But take me as your maid." "Lisbeth is here," was the grim answer. "I can get a maid for the hiring, but companions and friends have to be won. I suppose you have things to cover you, and, if I mind rightly, the shops at Nice were not that bad, though they put it on for the English. But you and me will get the better of them. Come then, my dear, and we’ll go back to Brown’s to lunch and talk about all our plans." Then an odd shyness seemed to come over the girl. "Neil will be there, Lady Betty?" "Yes, I suppose that he will." "Then, will you excuse me? I--I haven’t got over things yet. Did he tell you how he found me?" "In a general way he did, but Neil has not his sister’s gift of the gab. You have to fill in with him. Of this you may be sure, Isla--that Neil Drummond will not tell to me, or to anybody a thing that would vex or humble you. He has set you up there!" she added with a slight upward inflection of her eyebrows as well as of her voice. "So come, and remember that you and I are not women with a past, but only with a future." Cackling at her own joke, she carried off Isla, who met Neil in the luncheon-room of the restaurant in a way which commanded Lady Betty’s highest admiration. Isla Mackinnon was no fool. She was neither hysterical nor emotional. Lady Betty knew that in what the girl had done her reason had fully justified her, though her method perhaps had been at fault. She guessed that in the sunny days to come she would hear the full story, or at least enough of it to enable her to fill in all the gaps. Neil’s manner was also admirable, and they appeared just like a happy little family party, of which the old lady was the life and soul. That evening after dinner, over the fire in Lady Betty’s sitting-room, she indicated to her nephew his course of action. "It will not be a good thing for you to come with us just now, Neil. We can make the journey by ourselves and get settled. Then I’ll write." Disappointment immediately wrote itself large upon his face. He had already wired to Garrion for another trunk to be sent and he had looked forward to being the director of the little travelling party to the south. "I am understanding Isla better than you, my dear, and just at the present moment the sight of you humiliates her just a wee bit. She canna forget how you found her and the weakness she thought she betrayed. She has to get over that, and she will do it all the quicker if you are not on the spot." "But, hang it all, Aunt Betty, to go back to Garrion--and Christmas without you, too! I won’t do it!"