father selling her to another one who never had her heart?"

"Are you sure you have it yourself, Gilian?" she asked, and her face was
exceedingly troubled.

"It's a thing I never asked," he confessed carelessly. "Would she be
where she is without it being so?"

"Where her mother's daughter might be in any caprice of spirit I would
not like to guess," said Miss Mary, dubious. "And I think, if I was the
man, it would be the first thing I would be making sure about."

"What would she fly with me for if it was not for love?" he asked.

"Ask a woman that," she went on. "Only a woman, and only some kinds
of women, could tell you that. For a hundred reasons good enough for
herself, though not for responsibility."

He bit his lips in perplexity, feeling all at sea, the only thing clear
to his mind being that Nan was alone on the moor, her morning fire
sending a smoke to the sky, expectation bringing her now and then to the
door to see if her ambassador was in view.

For the sake of that sweet vision he was bound to put another question
to Miss Mary--to ask her if the reference by her brother to Old Islay
bore the import he had given it. He braced himself to it--a most
unpleasant task.

"It's true," she said. "Do you mean to tell me you did not know he was
the man?" "I did not. And the money?" "Oh, the money!" said Miss Mary
oddly, as if now a great deal was explained to her. "Did Nan hear
anything of that?"

"She knows everything--except the man's name. She was too angry to hear
that."

"Except the man's name," repeated Miss Mary. "She did not know it was
Young Islay." She turned as she spoke, and busied herself with a duster
where there was no need for it. And when she showed him her face again,
there were tears there, not for her own old trials, but for his.

"You must go back there," she said firmly, though her lips were
trembling, "and you will tell Miss Nan that whatever Old Islay would do,
his son would never put that affront on her. At the worst, the money was
no more than a tocher with the lad; it was their start in Drimlee
and Maam that are now together for the sake of an old vanity of the
factors.... You must tell all that," she went on, paying no heed to the
perplexity in his face. "It would be unfair to do less, my dear; it will
be wiser to do all. Then you will do the other thing--if need be--what
you should have done first and foremost; youll find out if the girl is
in earnest about yourself or only