"What ails ye, lass?" asked the old lady brusquely. "You look as if ye had the wail of the pibroch in your ears." "I’ve had a letter from Malcolm, Lady Betty." "Well? And is he ill pleased about you and Neil?" "Oh, no. He tells me he is engaged to Mrs. Rodney Payne. I want to go home, Lady Betty." Lady Betty sat back in her chair, set her eyeglass more firmly on her aristocratic old nose, and looked Isla straight in the face. "What for do ye want to go home?" "If I could tell you I would," she answered simply. "You have the gift, and you know that when the call comes one does not question, but just rises up to obey. That is how it is with me. The Glen is calling me. There is something for me to do at the Lodge of Creagh." Isla spoke quite quietly, and the old lady neither flouted nor rebuked her. "It’s very unfortunate. Do you know that every day for the next month is filled up? And you have been such a success here and so many wish to know you that we need not have an idle hour." "I shall have to go," was all that Isla said. "And what will become of me? What will be the end of it? I have the house till Easter. Will you come back after you have answered the call? Neil could bring you." "I can’t promise anything," answered Isla. "Will you mind very much if I go to-day?" Lady Betty did mind, but she knew that to throw obstacles in the way was useless. She might delay Isla’s departure, but she could not altogether prevent it. Besides, there was the call. When it came clear and swift, as it had done to Isla, everything else had to give way. "You would travel by yourself? You are not afraid?" she said kindly. "Oh, I am afraid of nothing, dear Lady Betty, but the forces that work in the dark--the things we can’t grapple with." Lady Betty once or twice slowly inclined her head. "I understand. Well, then, make your arrangements. The train-de-luxe to-night, I suppose, and London the day after to-morrow? Oh, Isla, ye mind me on nothing but a petrel that has no rest night or day from the storm. God go with ye, my dear, and at the long last give ye peace." The words were very solemnly, very tenderly spoken, and Isla with a swift movement knelt beside the old lady’s chair. "Dearest Lady Betty! How can I thank you? I won’t even try. You know--don’t you?--oh, you must know how full my heart is!----" Lady Betty dropped her fine white hand with its sparkling rings on the girl’s bent head. "I know nothing but good of you, Isla Mackinnon, and I love ye as ye were my own. But, oh, lass, my heart is heavy, and I would fain rise up and away to the hills with ye! My one consolation is that you are going back to Neil. I will wire to him this evening." "No, don’t, dear Lady Betty. It would be certain to bring him to London. I want no one to meet me there. If I have to sleep the night I will go to Agnes Fraser’s. I--I would rather be alone."