"You're very foolish to have done it at all. You know I don't really like him much; but I can't treat him rudely, just to please you."
Norman became a shade graver. "I said to myself that you couldn't really like him," he said. "But I'm glad you've said it too. You see, Pam, when you think a lot of a girl, as I do of you—I mean when you put her high—you don't like seeing her make friends with somebody miles below her. That's really how it was when I saw you going off with that creature; but of course I was an ass to get shirty about it. You see, old girl, it means nothing to you. I know that. But probably it means a good deal to him, and you give him a handle. You can't afford to give handles to people like that. At least—no; I didn't mean to say that. I'm not going to lecture you about it. You do exactly what you like, and I'm sure it will be all right."
"Well, it's self-denying of you not to want to lecture me about it; and I think you can trust me too. Talking about it at all makes it of too much importance. So let's leave off. There are other things to talk about, and I shouldn't have been sorry to have had an opportunity of doing it yesterday."
"Ah! Well, I wasn't ready to talk about those other things yesterday. Now I am. In fact it's what I came over to do, and I had some trouble to prevent those other lads from coming with me. We've got plenty of time. Let's sit down here and discuss the situation."
They had come to the stile leading to the meadows. Norman perched himself upon it. Pamela stood in front of him, with some indecision in her face. She was not quite prepared for a full-dress debate, and the afternoon's pleasure was in front of her. "I thought you said we must start at once," she said.
"That was camouflage. I told Castor and Pollux that we'd start in half an hour. I gave them two glasses of port each to keep them quiet. What I've got to tell you won't take long. It's chiefly that I investigated that business of Coombe for myself, as the governor didn't seem to be giving it enough attention. I think Uncle Edmund made a bit too much of it, because it hasn't really done him any harm; in fact, I think it has rallied the enlightened electorate of Hayslope to him. At the same time the fellow had tried to make mischief, and I think the governor ought to have sent him away for it. I told him so, in a letter written under my own hand and seal, and I got his reply this morning. I'm glad to say that he had come to the same conclusion himself, and Mr. Coombe departs immediately. So that ought to end it, oughtn't it, Pam?"
"I'm very glad you did that, Norman," said Pamela, looking down. "I knew you were trying to find out something, but— Oh, I am so glad." She looked up at him, smiling.
"Dear old girl," he said affectionately. "You set Master Comfrey on to it, didn't you? Well, I'm not going to say any more about that. We can forget all the disagreeables now—I'm afraid I must continue to think Master Comfrey one of them—and be as we were. I think we ought to be moving on now, or Castor-oil and Pole-ax will be getting restive. I say, mother told you about the shoot in Suffolk, didn't she? It's a topping place. I expect the governor will want to ask Uncle Edmund to come up and blaze at 'em directly they've made it up. You'll have to come too. It's a good big house, and we shall be able to put up lots of bright spirits."
"Oh, it will be heavenly to get all this trouble over," said Pamela, as they walked on together. "You can't think how glad I am. It's like a great weight lifted off me."
"I know. They're both of them a bit touchy; but they're good sorts. I knew we could put it right if we took it in hand. I wanted to tell you what I'd done yesterday; but I thought it would come better if I could tell you that it was all finished with."