"And what will become of me? What will be the end of it? I have the house till Easter. Will you come back after you have answered the call? Neil could bring you."
"I can't promise anything," answered Isla. "Will you mind very much if I go to-day?"
Lady Betty did mind, but she knew that to throw obstacles in the way was useless. She might delay Isla's departure, but she could not altogether prevent it. Besides, there was the call. When it came clear and swift, as it had done to Isla, everything else had to give way.
"You would travel by yourself? You are not afraid?" she said kindly.
"Oh, I am afraid of nothing, dear Lady Betty, but the forces that work in the dark--the things we can't grapple with."
Lady Betty once or twice slowly inclined her head.
"I understand. Well, then, make your arrangements. The train-de-luxe to-night, I suppose, and London the day after to-morrow? Oh, Isla, ye mind me on nothing but a petrel that has no rest night or day from the storm. God go with ye, my dear, and at the long last give ye peace."
The words were very solemnly, very tenderly spoken, and Isla with a swift movement knelt beside the old lady's chair.
"Dearest Lady Betty! How can I thank you? I won't even try. You know--don't you?--oh, you must know how full my heart is!----"
Lady Betty dropped her fine white hand with its sparkling rings on the girl's bent head.