"Where have you been, Isla?"
"Down to Lochearn, and I stopped at Darrach to speak to Eppie. You know how her tongue wags. Sit down, dear, and let me tell you something. Have you had any interesting letters?"
"I don't know," he said vaguely. "I looked at some of them. There is one from Cattanach, but I don't understand it. You'll explain it to me, Isla, and write what is necessary."
Cattanach was the family lawyer, the head of a big legal firm in Glasgow that had administered the affairs of Achree for many years.
Isla seized upon his letter jealously, and read it even with a feeling of foreboding. But as her eyes quickly covered the typewritten words, lo! a great relief was hers. The thing she had dreaded now manifested itself as a blessing--perhaps even as a way out.
"Father, have you read this letter?" she asked, drawing her chair to his side and still holding it in her hand.
"I read it--yes, but I don't think I understand. He says something about strange folks coming to Achree. You can write to him, Isla, and tell him that we are not in a position to entertain, as we used to be. We have not the folk about us to make guests comfortable--nor perhaps have we the heart."
"No, no; but that is not quite what he means, darling," said Isla eagerly. "Let me read it over to you quite slowly, then perhaps you will understand."
"ST. VINCENT PLACE,
"GLASGOW, March.