This dear intimacy, so precious to them both, had never been more precious than on that night. Half an hour later Isla sat down to eat with them in the old familiar room, and by that time the distress, the strain, the awful hopeless misery had gone from her face. She talked quite rationally and naturally of all the affairs of the Glen, and when she said that she would like to go home as soon after dinner as they could conveniently let her away, Peter asked whether he might have the privilege of driving her. She thanked him with her eyes. "Where I have to be grateful for so much there are not any words left," she said simply. "I will say good-bye to your mother, if you please, only until to-morrow." "You are coming back to Achree to-morrow, then?" said Rosmead, when, with exceeding care and gentleness, he had tucked her into the comfortable cart. "Yes, to-morrow. May we talk of it as we go up? I don’t know how to thank you for so kindly driving me home. When I think of what otherwise it would have been like, I am quite speechless." "So much the better," he answered with a smile. "Look back, dear Miss Mackinnon. The girls are waving to you." Isla turned round in her seat and blew a kiss on the wings of the evening breeze. "Is it Mrs. Hylton P. Rosmead--eh, Vivien?" said Sadie whimsically. "Did you ever see anyone more mightily pleased with himself than our Peterkin?" Vivien smiled, but said neither yea nor nay. "What have you arranged with my mother, then?" asked Rosmead. "We are to come down to-morrow evening, Mr. Rosmead. She says you will take her to Glasgow in the car to-morrow. Are you quite sure it can be done comfortably?" "Quite. Then, you and your brother will bring him down to Achree to-morrow? I suppose Mr. Mackinnon will make all the necessary arrangements." Isla was silent, a little chill creeping all over her and causing her to shiver. Her companion bent over her anxiously. "I had forgotten Malcolm," she said quite frankly. "I have always been used to arrange things for my father, you see." "I understand. But now your brother is the head of the house," said Rosmead gently. "Probably I shall see him when we get up to Creagh, and can make the final arrangements with him. I should like to tell him that the Achree stables are at his disposal. We shall all go to-morrow by the car, and so you will be perfectly free of the house." "Thank you very much," said Isla. But her voice was very low, and the spiritless note had crept into it again. Rosmead found the sudden change difficult to grasp, and it confirmed him in the opinion that there was some serious breach between the brother and sister. "When do you propose that the burial shall take place, and where will it be?" "The Mackinnon burying-place is at Balquhidder, of course," she said, as if surprised at the question. "I have not thought about the day, but probably now it must be Monday."