"How long are you likely to be at Wimereaux?"
"I don't know. I have to get there first."
"Will Sir Thomas and Lady Mackinnon stop there all winter?"
"No. They will go back to Barras at the end of next month, I expect. My uncle is counting the days."
"Ah, I don't wonder at that from what your brother tells me about him! We expected Peter home in November, but his last letter to mother is not very reassuring. They are finding the Delaware Bridge more difficult than they expected. There is something puzzling about the river-bed. Peter seems to be working night and day."
"But he will like that. He is never happier than when fighting obstacles," said Isla with a faint smile of remembrance.
"That is so--at least it used to be so. But we thought from the letter yesterday that he was getting what we call plumb-tired of it. He wants to come back to Scotland--anyone can see that--and, of course, my mother's illness has made us all anxious. But he doesn't say a definite word about coming home."
Isla was interested in these items of information concerning Peter Rosmead and his family. She was naturally sociable. It was only the habit of life forced upon her by circumstances that had fostered her reserve. With Vivien Rosmead, as with Peter, she always felt her heart expand.
There was no reproach in Mrs. Rosmead's eyes as, from her bed, she extended two warm hands of welcome to the desolate girl and drew her down towards her for a kiss.
"My dear, why is it that you have been so long in coming. Your dear brother has made every excuse for you, but we wanted you--we wanted you very much."