'But I mustn't be setting you against your father.

I didn't mean to.' Pamela shrugged her shoulders, in silence.

She really longed to ask him about his wound, his staff work, a thousand things; but they didn't seem, somehow, to be intimate enough, to be hitting it off enough.

This meeting, which had been to her a point of romance in the distance, was turning out to be just nothing--only disappointment.

She was glad to see how quickly the other pair were coming towards them, and at the same time bitterly vexed that her _tete-a-tete_ with Arthur was at an end..