"Who is going?" she asked, "and where?"
"Just we three bright young sparks, and you. We're going in Eric Blundell's car. She's a flier, but she only holds four, sitting rather snug, or we'd have asked Judy. He wants to go and see some cousins who live at Medchester. It's about forty miles there and another forty back, so we ought to start at once. Are you on?"
She was on; and soon they were walking down the wood together.
"I say, old girl," said Norman, as soon as they started, "I was rather shirty with you yesterday, and I'm afraid I showed it. I'm sorry. You won't have it up against me, will you?"
"You didn't like me taking notice of Fred Comfrey, I suppose."
"You've hit it. I always say you can see a thing as quick as anybody, and I'll maintain that against all and sundry."
He seemed to be in high spirits. It was grateful to Pamela to find him like that, and relieved some of her soreness. "Fred Comfrey is going away this afternoon," she said. "He came up to say good-bye this morning."
"Did he? Well, we must try to bear up under it. Is he coming back to-morrow afternoon?"
"No, he isn't. He's going to London to start work again. So you won't have to lose your temper any more because of him."
"No. That's such an advantage, isn't it? I hate losing my temper, especially with you. It wastes such a lot of time."