"You can't think how glad I am that you have come," she said, putting out an impulsive hand. "I woke up this morning wondering what pleasant thing was going to happen, and then I remembered that it was your coming."
"You are very kind to speak like that. I hope I may be going to be of use to you. That is the only excuse for my presence here."
"Well that is a speech! Most of them have come to serve their own ends, and--would you believe it, Miss Mackinnon?--though this is my house, and all that it contains is mine, I have sometimes felt among them all that I hadn't a single friend."
"I shall be your friend while I am here," said Isla quite simply, and without the smallest intention of gushing or flattering.
To her surprise a small sob suddenly broke from the lips of the woman on the couch.
"I don't pray much or often to God, my dear, but I do believe that He has sent you to me this time. There is a clear light about you--it shines in your eyes. I am sure that you are true and good."
"I try to be. But now you must rest a little, and later on I'll come and get you ready to go down to dinner."
"Oh, but, my dear, I don't go down. They haven't laid a place for me for months."
"But they'll lay one for you to-night, or I shall dine here with you," said Isla quite quietly.
She did not add that nothing on earth would induce her to dine tête-à-tête with Mr. Bodley-Chard.