"I understand," said Malcolm. "So, between us, we have to keep him in the dark. That’s what it amounts to, I suppose." Isla nodded. "I hate to see it, but it does amount to that." "I’ll make a note of it. But, now that I’m home, the chief cause of anxiety may perhaps be removed," he said airily. "Well, I’ll go, and don’t keep my luncheon for me. If I want anything I’ll drop in at the hotel. It’s possible that I may call at Achree as I come up. Of course it is necessary that I meet this American chap and have a talk with him." "I suppose so, but you can’t do anything, Malcolm, even if you see things you don’t like at Achree. He has paid the half of his money." "And where is it." "In the Bank at Callander, in my name." Malcolm whistled. "Rather high-handed, isn’t it, Isla?" "There wasn’t anything else to be done. Father can sign cheques, of course, but I banked Mr. Rosmead’s money in my name on Mr. Cattanach’s advice." "But surely now you’ll let me take over the business part of the show, Isla?" He pushed back his chair and took out his cigarette case as he put the question. Isla looked uncomfortable, and her face even paled a little. She hated the position in which she was placed, but past experience had shown her the folly of trusting Malcolm in money matters. He had certainly not the money-sense nor yet the sense of honour where money was concerned. "I don’t think I can do that, Malcolm. Remember, it is all the money that we have to live on until the rents become due again at Martinmas." "Don’t any of them pay now?" "One or two--Roderick Duncan and the farmer at Little Shuan. But these are crofts, their rent amounting to only a few pounds." Having lit his cigarette, Malcolm proceeded to turn out his pockets. "A few coppers, some Indian coins, and two half-sovereigns!" he said ruefully. "I’m stonybroke, Isla. Have I to come to you for the few pence that I shall need in the Glen? By Gad I can’t do that! I must speak to the governor about it." Isla’s face reddened where it had been pale before. "It’s a horrible situation," she said almost passionately. "But don’t you see I can’t help it? It isn’t my doing. Since you left we have lived on next to nothing at Achree. We haven’t bought any butcher’s meat hardly, but have had rabbits and fowls and game of our own killing and the everlasting trout. I never get any new clothes, as you have already observed and remarked upon." "But now that the American has paid you should be a little rougher." "I’m going to save that money to pay off the mortgage and the--the other money you owe," she said quite quietly, and he had no idea what fires blazed beneath that calm exterior. "You’ll have to find something to do, Malcolm, and that soon. You must see that for yourself." "I see that I’m to have a jolly rotten time here," he said gloomily. "I must write to Cattanach and tell him to look out an agent’s place of some kind for me."