At last Beryl peremptorily recalled him to the pony-carriage, and the group halted for good-byes.
Pamela stood rather stiffly apart.

The Captain went up to her.
'Good-bye, Pamela.

Do write to me sometimes! I shall be awfully interested about the farms!' With vexation she felt the colour rush to her cheeks.
'I shan't have much to say about them,' she said stiffly.
'I'm sure you will! You'll get keen! But write about anything.

It's awfully jolly to get letters at the front!' His friendly, interrogating eyes were on her, as though she puzzled him in this new phase, and he wanted to understand her.

She said hurriedly, 'If you like,' hating herself for the coolness in her voice, and shook hands, only to hear him say, as he turned finally to Elizabeth, 'Mind, you have promised me "The Battle of the Plough"! I'm afraid you'll hardly have time to put it into iambics!' So he had asked Miss Bremerton to write to him too! Pamela vowed inwardly that in that case she would not write him a line.