After learning the story of the Lyngates estate, Avelyn's interest in Pamela Reynolds was doubled, and she cultivated her acquaintance. The two girls travelled together from Harlingden on Friday afternoons, and arranged to meet on Monday mornings to walk in company to the station. Though Pamela was not yet fourteen she was old for her age; her adventurous life in Canada had given her a mental outlook different from that of most English girls. She proved a lively and very pleasant companion. Mrs. Watson, to whom Avelyn confided her friend's story, paid a call upon Mrs. Reynolds, and found her a timid, refined lady, of gentle birth and breeding, greatly saddened with her troubles, and evidently without much initiative. The cottage, which had been lent to her by Mr. Hockheimer, was in a very out-of-the-way situation. It was small, inconvenient, and possessed many drawbacks, but she had made the sitting-room pretty with books and flowers, and the little home had a cultured air about it. Mrs. Reynolds did not seem to wish to seek any society, and gently intimated that she feared she was not strong enough to walk as far as the village and return calls.
"The poor woman has simply sat down under her troubles," said Mrs. Watson, describing her experiences at the family supper-table. "It's easy to see that she has no spirit. If she would take life more pluckily it would be better for herself and everybody. I'm sorry for that child. To live in that quiet spot with such a depressed companion, especially when by all rights they ought to have owned The Hall. It makes my blood boil! Mr. Hockheimer ought to have done more for them than this."
"Catch Mr. Hockheimer doing much for anybody!" commented Daphne. "People say he's the stingiest landlord. They grumble dreadfully. I think he ought to have had Mrs. Reynolds and Pamela to live with him at The Hall."
"Oh, Pamela would have just hated that!" put in Avelyn. "She simply can't bear her uncle."
"I don't blame her," sniffed Daphne.
"Oh, Muvvie, couldn't we ask Pamela to tea?" said Avelyn. "It must be so lonely for her up there, without any brothers and sisters. I believe she'd love to come."
"Well, we'll give her the chance at any rate," agreed Mrs. Watson. "I hope her mother won't be stupid and refuse to let her come. I think I'd better send a formal invitation."
The note was duly written and dispatched. Mrs. Reynolds appeared to need some days to think the matter over, but finally sent a formal acceptance.
"Hooray!" triumphed Daphne. "I quite expected she was going to decline with thanks. Muvvie, how glad I am that you're a nice, sensible person, and not morbid! You'd have been such a trial to us if you'd always gone about with an air of depressed resignation."
"I've had my troubles as well as other people," said Mrs. Watson. "It certainly doesn't make them any better to mourn over them. We've got to sit up and make the best of things as they are. 'Never say die!' is a good old motto. I'd try to be chirpy and cheery if I were reduced to a wooden leg and a glass eye!"