Neil swung himself on the footboard of the train, quite heedless of the fact that his guest was looking about for him on the platform in hopeless disappointment.
"Isla, you are going to your uncle and aunt? Unless I am assured on that point, I'll step into the train and go with you."
Isla laughed at that.
"Why should you care, Neil? I'm only going a little journey on my own. I'll probably be back before anyone has had time to miss me."
"That can't happen. It'll be a long day for me till you come back to Glenogle. And, further, I'm not happy in my mind about you. In fact, I'm most unhappy."
"Don't be, then, Neil. I'm not worth it."
"That's my business, my dear," he said, and never had he looked more manly or more attractive. "Somehow, we all seem to have lost you lately. They all say that--Kitty, Aunt Betty, even the Rosmeads. They were speaking of you the other day. You haven't treated us well, Isla, whatever you may think. And now, this beats everything."
"The train is moving, Neil. Get down, or you will be hurt," she cried nervously.
But he still hung persistently to the half-open door.
"You'll write, Isla. Promise at least that you will write either to Kitty or to me?"