When he saw Isla waving to him he gave a great start of surprise, which was almost chagrin. He had made several appointments in London, where he had intended to spend a few pleasant days before his liberty should be curtailed at Achree. His sister’s presence would make these days difficult, if not impossible. Then the wild thought flashed through him that perhaps it meant that something had happened to his father. A month is a long time in a frail old man’s life, and no one knew what a day might bring forth. But Isla was not in mourning, and her face was as serene as usual. It would be unjust to say that he wished for his father’s death, but certainly had he arrived in Scotland to find himself Laird of Achree, instead of merely heir to it, it would have made a material difference to his immediate comfort as well as to his prospects. For his affairs were in a tangle from which he did not know how he was going to extricate himself. But now he had to meet the first stage in the coming of the inevitable Nemesis in the shape of Isla, whose frank tongue he knew of yore. He was fond of her in a way, and admired her greatly. He even wondered what all the men were thinking of that she remained unmarried at twenty-five. When he got nearer to her he saw that she had aged but little, while he himself had grown fat and gross, as will a man of his build who is fond of drink and of good living. "Isla, how awfully good of you to do this! I never expected to see you or any of our ilk here," he exclaimed in greeting. "How on earth did you manage it, and how is the old man?" "Father is very well. I thought I had better come to meet you, because there are heaps of things to explain; and besides, I felt that I wanted just a few days’ change. I’m at Belgrave Square." His face immediately fell. He did not like his Barras cousins, nor did they like him. Nay, they highly disapproved of him and all his works, and it was, he felt, positively cruel of Isla to have laid him open to the cross-questioning of the whole clan at the very moment of his arrival in England. "In the circumstances you might have spared me that lot, Isla," he said with the gloom on his face that she remembered so well. "I won’t go to Belgrave Square--so there!" he added positively. "There is a small cheap hotel off the Strand will do me--that is, if I don’t go up north to-night." "I haven’t told them anything," said Isla quietly. "They only know that you are coming home, and, fortunately for me, they don’t seem a bit curious. Aunt Jean was the only one who remarked about your getting leave so soon again. You can please yourself about going to the little hotel to sleep, but I promised that you should dine at Belgrave Square to-night." "Oh, well, if they don’t know anything and won’t ask awkward questions," he said with a breath of relief, "I don’t mind going."