en thinking
over what we can do for you, Miss MacDonald," he said. "We don't know
where your mother is now, but we do know that she'll be in Edinburgh the
first of next week. Perhaps we might be able to find out her whereabouts
meanwhile, but there'd be delay before we could expect answers to
inquiries, if she's playing small towns in order to knock her new play
into shape. You don't want to go back to your grandmother's. We're
starting off in my car to-morrow. I've undertaken the responsibility of
you, so I'm your guardian _pro tem_. I couldn't allow you to hang about
alone anywhere. The alternative is, taking you with us in the car. What
do you say?"

"Me in a motor-car!" exclaimed Barrie, rapturous. "It can't be true."

"It will be true if you say 'yes.'" Somerled spoke coolly, but it seemed
to Aline that his eyes were alight. They were fixed on the girl, noting
how she paled and flushed. Her face, seen in the golden lights and green
shadows of the summer-house, had the texture of flowers. Aline had not
known it was in her to hate any one so bleakly as she hated Barrie
MacDonald at this moment; and she hated Somerled too, more than she had
hated him last night. She ached to make him suffer as he was making her
suffer. If only she could--if she but had the power!

This was the blow she had known would fall: the invitation to Barrie.
Now the worst had happened despite the risk she had run for its
prevention. And Somerled would not meet her eyes. Did this mean that he
not only made light of her arguments, but had found out the falsehood on
which they were based?

"Of course I say 'yes!'" Barrie was gayly answering. "It seems more than
ever as if I were in a fairy story. Travelling for five days, in a real,
live motor-car, to see my real live mother! Oh, if _Grandma_ knew!"

"She does know," said Somerled. The words spoke themselves. For once
unable to decide quickly and definitely, he had come back from Hillard
House to Moorhill Farm without making up his mind whether or no to tell
how he had spent most of his morning. He had left chance to settle the
question; and now it was settled. Still he did not look at Mrs. West. He
spoke in a commonplace tone, as if Mrs. MacDonald's knowledge of his
plan included no secret knowledge on his part.

"How do you know she knows?" asked Barrie eagerly, leaning toward him
with elbows on knees, chin in hand, long red plait failing over
shoulder. "You--you haven't _seen_ her?"

"