What I wanted to h'ask, Miss, is where am I to put your things?
That little wardrobe and chest of drawers 'olds next to nothing." "Keep them in the trunks," said Pamela.

"I think Miss Bathgate would like to see us departing with them to-day, but I won't be beat.

In Priorsford we are, in Priorsford we remain....

I'll write out some wires and you will explore for a post office.

I shall explore for an upholsterer who can supply me with an arm-chair not hewn from the primeval rock." Mawson smiled happily and departed to put on her hat, while Pamela sat down to compose telegrams.
These finished, she began, as was her almost daily custom, to scribble a letter to her brother.
"c/o Miss B.BATHGATE, HILLVIEW, PRIORSFORD, SCOTLAND.
"BIDDY DEAR,--The beds and chairs and cushions are all stuffed with cannon-balls, and the walls are covered with enlarged photographs of men with whiskers, and Bella Bathgate won't speak to me, partly because she evidently hates the look of me, and partly because I didn't eat the duck's egg she gave me for breakfast.