"May I introduce Mr.Reid ?" Pamela shook hands and at once proceeded to make herself so charming that Peter Reid was galvanised into a spirited conversation.

Pamela had brought her embroidery-frame with her, and she sat on the sofa and sorted out silks, and talked and laughed as if she had sat there off and on all her life.

To Jean, looking at her, it seemed impossible that two days ago none of them had beheld her.

It seemed--absurdly enough--that the room could never have looked quite right when it had not this graceful creature with her soft gowns and her pearls, her embroidery-frame and heaped, bright-hued silks sitting by the fire.
"Miss Jean, won't you sing us a song?
I'm convinced that you sing Scots songs quite perfectly." Jean laughed.

"I can sing Scots songs in a way, but I have a voice about as big as a sparrow's.