"And you did this on your own, Isla? Well, I think you had a jolly good cheek. The decent thing would have been to wait till I came home at least. You won’t deny, surely, that I have a say in it." "I don’t know about the say. What I did know was that if you came home the bargain would probably never have been concluded." "But what was it for, anyway?" She turned her small proud head to him, and her clear eyes flashed. "Malcolm, I do really wonder what you are made of." "Flesh and blood like other folks, and I can’t get away from this. How much are they paying?" "Five hundred a year with the shooting, and we propose to live on three and to lay bye the other two to help to pay off those terrible obligations you spoke of in your letter, which has kept me awake more or less since ever it came." He laughed airily. "Now that’s just like a woman--to imagine that the practice of small and most beastly uncomfortable economies could do any good! Have you reckoned out that it will take ten years at the rate you speak of to get me clear? Most of us will be dead by that time." "The train is going, thank God," said Isla in a high, clear, outraged voice. "Let us get in. I don’t want to talk any more to you, Malcolm--either now or at any other time. You--you are outside the pale." "Now take it easy, old girl. I made a clean breast of it all just to show you that I was really penitent; and of course I wasn’t to blame for getting chucked. Any fool in the Thirty-fifth will tell you that. But this little attempt to pull the financial wires does strike a chap as rather comical. What did old Cattanach say? I suppose he’s still at the helm--worse luck for me." "Yes, he is. I gave him your letter, Malcolm." "The deuce you did! Then you shouldn’t have done it. He’s a fossil--knows nothing about life. But there--don’t let us quarrel about such things. I am jolly glad to see you, old girl. And now I’ll relieve you of all these beastly sordid cares. But Creagh, good Lord!--and not a bit of horse-flesh on the premises, I could bet my bottom dollar! I think I must try and rake up a motor-bike before I leave town; otherwise it will be like being buried alive." The guard was calling London passengers to take their seats, and they made haste into the nearest compartment, which quickly filled up so that no further talk of a private nature was possible. Isla was glad of it. She had had enough. As she sat opposite to her brother who, immediately the train started, composed himself in his corner for a sleep, she had ample time to study his face. That study filled her with a great and growing sadness. He was just over thirty, and in all these years there were few well-spent days. As a boy he had been a care and trouble to his people and to his schoolmasters, and, in these respects, the boy had been father to the man.