a mass of
lumber in an outhouse; a tall Japanese screen, dating from the end
of the eighteenth century, and many pairs of linen curtains
embroidered about the same time in branching oriental patterns by
the hands of Mannering ladies, had been unearthed, and Pamela--for
Elizabeth having started the search had interfered very little with
its results--had spent some of her now scanty leisure in making the
best of the finds. The hall was now a charming place, scented,
moreover, on this January evening by the freesias and narcissus that
Elizabeth had managed to rear in the house itself, and Pamela, who
had always been ashamed of her own ill-kept and out-at-elbows home,
as compared with the perfections of Chetworth, had been showing
Arthur and Beryl Chicksands what had been done to renovate the old
house since they were last in it--'and all without spending a
penny!'--with a girlish pleasure which in the Captain's opinion
became her greatly. Pamela needed indeed a good deal of animation to
be as handsome as she deserved to be! A very critical observer took
note that her stock of it was rapidly rising. It was the same with
the letters, too, which for a month or so past, she had condescended
to write him, after treating him most uncivilly in the autumn, and
never answering a long screed--'and a jolly good one!'--which he had
written her from Paris in November.

As Elizabeth came in, Pamela was reading aloud a telegram just
received, and Miss Bremerton was greeted with the news--'Desmond's
coming to-night, instead of to-morrow! They've given him forty-eight
hours' leave, and he goes to France on Thursday.'

'That's very short!' said Elizabeth, as she took her place beside
Pamela, who was making tea. 'Does your father know?'

Forest, it appeared, had gone to tell him. Meanwhile Captain
Chicksands was watching with a keen eye the relation between Miss
Bremerton and Pamela. He saw that the Squire's secretary was
scrupulously careful to give Pamela her place as daughter of the
house; but Pamela's manner hardly showed any real intimacy between
them. And it was easy to see where the real authority lay. As for
himself he had lately begun to ask himself seriously how much he was
interested in Pamela. For in truth, though he was no coxcomb, he
could not help seeing--all the more because of Pamela's variable
moods towards him--that she was at least incipiently interested in
him. If so, was it fair to her that they should correspond?-