She had been over at the keeper’s house about half a mile distant, inquiring after a woman who had had a new baby and, meeting the doctor from Comrie there, had stopped a little to talk with him. She had assured him that he need not call at Creagh, unless indeed he particularly wanted to see her father--as he had not been so well for years as he had been since they came up to live on the Moor. Presently she saw something in the distance--a man on horseback, rather a rare spectacle on the moorland road at that season of the year. She thought at first that it must be Neil Drummond, who was the only horseman that ever came to Creagh. But a nearer glance assured her that the figure was a heavier one than Neil’s, and, besides, she did not recognize the horse, though she could see that it was a good one. She waited a few minutes longer, and as the horseman drew rapidly nearer she recognized the figure as that of Rosmead. This surprised her very much. Somehow, she had never imagined that an American man, though even a distinguished builder of bridges, would ride a horse and look so well on it. Having no doubt that he was coming to Creagh, she opened the gate and stood by the white post until he came up. She admired the ease with which he sat, proving thereby that he was no novice on a horse’s back. He looked uncommonly well-pleased to see her, and before he reached the gate he saluted her and threw himself to the ground. Catching the reins over his arm, he took off his hat and kept it under his arm until she had given him her hand. "It’s a case of Mahomet coming to the mountain, Miss Mackinnon. I am here to-day on my mother’s behalf and with a message from her." "Yes?" said Isla, and her smile was bright and very sweet. She had felt left out in the cold, and that feeling of neglect accounted for the little glow at her heart which had been kindled by the sincere cordiality of Rosmead’s greeting. "Do you know that she feels quite aggrieved," said he, "to think that she has been a month in Achree and that you have never called once to inquire or to make her acquaintance." "I am very sorry. I did not think--" replied Isla a little confusedly. "And since, as I understand, my brother has paid many calls at Achree I did not think it necessary that I should call. Besides, I am very much tied here on account of my father’s health----" "I understand that," he said gently. "And it is a long way to Achree," she continued, "and we have no horse or trap of any kind. But I will come one day very soon and make my apologies. I hope that you are pretty comfortable in the house, and that your mother likes it." "She loves it. She has settled down, and from present signs I don’t see that we shall ever get her out of it again," he answered with a laugh, watching at the game time the mobile face beside him.