The Last of the Kintyres by Catherine Airlie

warm handshake and Stephen Friend looked deeply into her eyes. What he might be searching for in that first moment of contact, she could not say, but he gave a little nod which seemed to indicate that he had found it. His eyes were the bluest she had ever seen. They were frank and twinkling and hidden in a network of tiny wrinkles as if their owner laughed often, enjoying life to the full. He was not a very tall man, with an amazing breadth of shoulder which seemed to detract even from the height he had, but everything about him suggested that he was an honest man. In a word, Elizabeth mused, he had the look of the sea about him.
    “You’re staying in Oban?” he asked .
    “No—at Ardlamond.”
    Commander Friend looked surprised.
    “Miss Stanton’s brother was made my father’s ward,” Hew supplied. “They arrived at Ardlamond the day he died.”
    “I only heard this morning.” Stephen Friend gave Hew a brief, sympathetic look which seemed to suffice between them. “We were down on the Solent when it happened. I’m sorry I didn’t know in time, Hew.”
    “I realized that something of the sort must have happened,” Hew said. “Imogen wired me yesterday.”
    “She’s been in Edinburgh,” Stephen said, “But she’s coming home.” He glanced towards the double doors leading into the dining-room. “Look here,” he suggested, “if you’re having lunch why not share my table? I’m completely on my own. I promise I won’t talk boats once during the meal if you do!”
    “It’s a bargain!” Hew decided.
    “I haven’t heard your news for months,” Stephen complained when they were settled at a window table overlooking the bay. “Nor you mine.” He turned to Elizabeth with his quick smile. “This is going to be tough on you, Miss Stanton,” he warned. “The fact is that Hew and I haven’t seen each other for six months, and that’s quite something. Now that I’m going to settle down at home we really must get up to date.”
    “You’re what?” Hew asked incredulously.
    “Going to settle down. Don’t grin derisively,” Stephen smiled. “It’s quite true. I’ve decided that I really ought to make a proper home for Imogen, and Thyra’s of the same mind. She says it’s about time I gave up wandering around the world in a boat and did something about Glenisla.”
    “Thyra always retained a sensible approach to life,” Hew reflected, the smile still lingering in his eyes. “Has Imogen left school, then?”
    “Six months ago. She’s seventeen, y’know. Time passes, old man, even though you might not notice it living up here in your splendid isolation!”
    For the second time he gave Hew a quick, probing look, as if he would discover any change there might be in his friend’s attitude to life, and what he saw did not appear to put his mind at rest, for his dark brows drew together in a worried frown. In the next instant, however, he had turned back to Elizabeth with a smile.
    “If you’re going to be any length of time at Ardlamond,” he suggested, “I’d like you to meet my sister. I think Imogen and you might get on very well. My other sister, Thyra, is married and lives on the Isle of Wight—at Bemberg. She will be up with her husband later for a week with the guns when her two boys go back to school. Imogen is coming over from Edinburgh next week. What age is your brother?” he asked, as if statement and question must necessarily be linked.
    “Tony is nineteen,” Elizabeth told him almost too eagerly, thinking that here might be the natural antidote to Caroline Hayler, as far as Tony was concerned. “He’s a little lost at the moment, having left most of his friends behind him in London.”
    “We’ll have to do something about that,” Stephen agreed. “Especially if he’s going to stay for any length of time.” He glanced at Hew. “Have you settled anything about Ardlamond yet?” he asked.
    “Only that I have taken over,” Hew said.
    “And