The Lodge stood at the far angle of the moor, about a mile across from the road--a small, bare, ugly house which made no pretence to being anything more than a shelter for sportsmen. It was well protected by a clump of sturdy fir trees, and it had even a fertile bit of garden ground behind, with a small glass-house, and excellent stables. It was furnished throughout, and it was in the care of Margaret Maclaren, an old pensioner of Achree and widow of a former keeper. She was a faithful servant who attended well to her duties whether her employers were there to see her or not, and she was not at all put out by the unexpected arrival of the trap from Achree. Bathed in the glorious noon sunshine, the place looked its best, and even the interior did not seem at all amiss. All the windows were open to the sun, and Isla’s sharp eyes noted the complete absence of damp, which was her chief enemy at Achree. "Father, isn’t it pretty here?" she asked the General as they stood for a moment in the porch before entering the house. "I should like to come up and live the whole summer here." "It would not be amiss in the summer, child. Many a happy day have I spent in Creagh and many a jolly night." She led him into the dining-room--a goodly-sized square room, not unhandsomely furnished in oak, the carpet rolled up in the middle of the floor, and faded chintz covers over the leather chairs. The open casement windows commanded a splendid and uninterrupted view of the whole moor which, even in its bareness and in the wildness of the winter, had a certain rugged beauty of its own. A low hill rose immediately behind the house, from which a glorious prospect of the whole valley of the Earn could be seen, with Ben Voirlich rising like a buttress behind all the lesser hills in the valley below. The air was like wine, and Isla’s spirits rose as she grasped the possibilities of the simpler life there, in that remote lodge in a wilderness. She quickly interviewed Margaret Maclaren, and in her company she made a rapid survey of the dismantled house, the result of which showed her that a very few days would suffice to put it in order for their reception. "We have let Achree for the season, Margaret," she said in the most matter-of-fact voice she could command, "and the new tenants want to come in at Easter. You will thoroughly air and fire all the house, but more especially my father’s room above the dining-room. These two rooms will be most exclusively his. We shall eat in the little room at the back, while he has this for his library and sitting-room." "Yes, Miss Isla, and hoo mony will come up from Achree--of the servants, I mean?" "Only Diarmid, Margaret. You and he must just manage. I will help all I can. If we find it too much, your niece, Annie Chisholm, could be got. Perhaps this will be necessary when we have Mr. Malcolm at home. Yes--he is coming soon, and he will be here with us for a few weeks at least."