She was already scratching out the offending words with a sharp penknife, and daintily rewriting them.

Then she looked up.
'Pamela asked me to go back to her.

And I was to say, will you come, or shall she send tea here ?' 'Oh, I'll come, I'll come.

I've got something to say to Pamela,' said the Squire, frowning.

And he stalked in front of her along the library passage, his brilliant white hair gleaming in its shadows.
It was well perhaps that he did not see the amusement which played round Elizabeth Bremerton's handsome mouth as she pursued him.
* * * * * Tea was laid on a flagged walk under a glazed pergola running along part of the southern wall of the house.