"Malcolm!--but he is not down the Glen? I thought he was going to shoot over the Moor this morning. He certainly said something about it at breakfast."
"He was certainly down the Glen, my dear, for I met him on his grey cob. But where he is now I don't know," said Vivien. "It would have interested her, I am sure, to have had speech with the actual Laird of Achree."
"What did she ask you?" asked Isla quickly.
Vivien's colour rose this time without doubt, but she evaded the question.
"She is greatly concerned about the future of Achree, anyhow, so let us give her a civil good morning as we pass."
"We needn't stop--we mustn't stop," said Isla a little nervously.
And as the purple figure approached Vivien felt the arm she touched tremble a little. But the stranger, who now looked tired and bored, passed them with a languid bow and then seemed to hasten her steps towards the hotel.
"I am very glad of this chance of going to Achree to say good-bye," said Isla, "as to-morrow I am going away."
Vivien nodded, as if she had heard a bit of news she fully expected.
"To Wimereaux--to your aunt and uncle? Your brother told us about your going."