Agnes looked the dismay she felt, but abstained from comment and only remarked that she hoped they had made Creagh comfortable, and that they would not find it too dull. But after the door was shut upon her visitor she wept tears of sorrow because the glory was departed from Achree. Her last duty done, Isla’s thoughts as she left the house began to revert with persistent longing to the glen. She had neither part nor lot in cities, and she could not understand the craze that people had for this great, overgrown London, where folk were always in a hurry and falling over one another in their haste. Mrs. Fraser’s house was well up the street, and Isla, walking quite fast and wrapped up in her own thoughts, had no eyes for any of those who passed her. But presently she came to the corner house of a little street near the Marble Arch end of the road. The door opened as she passed, and two persons came out, so close upon her that she could not but notice them. Then her heart gave a sickly bound, and she sped on without once looking back. It was Malcolm who came out of that house, and there was with him a woman, an impossible woman--that was the impression Isla carried away--a large, tall person, with an abundance of yellow hair and an enormous black hat perched upon it. Handsome in a way she might be, and her smile as she had made some jesting remark to her companion had been dazzling. But it did not dazzle Isla. She grew cold all over, and, without waiting on her better judgment, which might have urged some quite simple explanation, she jumped to the conclusion that Malcolm had some entanglement which was at the bottom of his downfall. CHAPTER VII THE HOME-COMING Having been made free of his aunt’s house, Malcolm arrived at Belgrave Square that afternoon in time for tea. The room seemed quite full of people, for the young Mackinnons were a gay crowd, never happier than when surrounded by their friends. Somebody had said that the London season was to be Scottish that year, and there were heaps of their own immediate friends already settled in town. Isla was greatly in request, and it was about twenty minutes before Malcolm got a chance of having a word with her. He came up to her jauntily with an air of the utmost unconcern, and, as he might have expressed it, took the bull by the horns. "Why were you in such a hurry this morning, Isla, and what were you doing in the purlieus of the Edgeware Road? Don’t you know that’s the wrong side of the Park altogether?" he said teasingly. "I might say the same to you," she answered a trifle tartly, and her eyes, which seemed to have acquired a distaste for his face, did not meet his gaze. "I was doing my duty--and a beastly fagging bit of duty it was too, a little commission for a pal in India--and, as I’d made up my mind to go north with you to-morrow if you really are bent on going, this was my only opportunity."