"So it was," said Pam.
"Well," said Sylvia, as she went out and closed the door. "It is plain these recriminations are not meant for me. Heigho! I wish Mr. Baker would come along just now, that I might have the satisfaction of refusing him. It is easy to see that Glengall is as completely forgotten as if he had never existed."
No one could say that Mr. Graydon's youngest daughter was not loyal to the absent.
CHAPTER XVIII.
A PROPOSAL.
Pamela Graydon had been Pamela Trevithick for three years, when one day in late summer Sylvia, still Sylvia Graydon, was entertaining a visitor in her London drawing-room.
It was Lord Glengall, a shade greyer, a shade leaner, but looking well nevertheless, and brown with southern suns.
"And so," he said, "we shall travel back to Ireland together."
"It will be a delightful and unexpected pleasure to have your company."