"I didn’t lay down the law as to times and seasons. What is at the back of my mind is that you will bring Kitty to Nice, or to Monte Carlo, or to wherever we have settled ourselves, and spend Christmas with us. Then folk will not have any talk about us, because I, of course, can do as I like and nobody dare say a word." Neil’s face brightened as he consulted his pocket-diary. "This is the fifth, so we shall come inside of three weeks." "You will come when I bid ye--not a moment sooner or later," she said severely. "Don’t forget how you hauled the old wife from the Garrion fastnesses to the gay world again. Now she must have her revenge." When Neil did not answer she leaned forward on the ebony stick, and her eyes grew soft and luminous. "Listen, lad. Ye may trust your Aunt Betty. She is not without knowledge of a woman’s heart. If Isla is to be won it will take time and some skill. Her heart is asleep, but if I can waken it it shall be done. Do you think I am to be idle in these three weeks? I think ye may safely leave her in my hands. I will be true to your cause, for I would dearly like to see her in the house of Garrion for all our sakes as well as for her own." It was Neil’s turn to capitulate, which he did with all the grace he could muster. Next day at two o’clock of the afternoon he saw his aunt and Isla off by the boat-train at Charing Cross, and thereafter he got ready for his own return at night to Scotland. There was nothing to keep him in London now, and he had left certain loose ends of his affairs at home which would be none the worse of his handling. At the station Isla had broken down, trying to thank him with a faint, wavering smile on her pathetic lips. "Don’t, Isla, for God’s sake, don’t! It’s down on my knees I’d go to serve you, and besides, we made the pact--didn’t we?--that day long ago when we went to Glasgow together and lunched at St. Enoch’s. I’ve lived on the memory of that day all these months. Don’t grudge me what I’ve been able to do now. Besides, it’s nothing but what Highland folk are doing for one another every day." Lady Betty, observing the emotional moment, frowned upon him warningly from the background, and he tried to restrain himself. When the train fairly moved out Isla leaned out of the window to wave to him, and when she drew back to her seat her eyes were still wet. "I’ve a job with that laddie, Isla. He’s very thrawn. I’m often thinking I’ll wash my hands of him and Kate. What with his dour temper and her tongue, my life is not as peaceful as a woman of my years has the right to expect." "Neil--a dour temper, Lady Betty!" cried Isla spiritedly. "This is the first I have heard of it, and I don’t believe it now!" "It’s there, my dear. And forby, in some things he hasna the sense of a paitrick on the moor. I’m tired of them both, I tell ye, and glad to get away."