"Dad and Uncle William won't either. I should think Uncle Bill is more easily upset than Dad. If he is annoyed with him now, he will have got over it by to-morrow."
There was a slight pause. "It's rather beastly, you know," Norman said. "Already, in the few words we've had about it, I've been looking at it from father's point of view and you from Uncle Edmund's. I suppose it's natural; but what I think is that it can't be anything serious, and there's no reason for us to take sides. I won't, anyhow. I dare say you're right, and father is more quick-tempered than Uncle Edmund. They're both jolly good sorts, and I don't think you'll often find two brothers of their age who get on so well together as they do. I suppose I'm rather like father myself. I've often said things you haven't liked, but I've been sorry for them afterwards."
This touched her. It was one of the things that she loved about Norman—his quick reactions at the call of affection. She had sometimes been guilty of arousing his annoyance, so that she might see him come round to her again. "I'm sure we needn't worry ourselves," she said, with more agreement in her tone than she had used before. "Uncle Bill not coming in to see us was so unusual that we are making more of it than it can possibly mean. Supposing they were both angry with one another just now, it can't possibly last. Even if they didn't calm down at once themselves, mother and Auntie Eleanor wouldn't let them go on with it."
Norman laughed at that. "And if they couldn't stop them, we should," he said. "We're all like one family. Nothing could separate us for long."
When they came to the iron gate where the park ended, it was to find it open. "Oh, there's Dad!" said Pamela, and called out a greeting to him as they passed through. "I'm so glad, Norman. He isn't keeping out of your way. He must have got over it already."
She ran back to her father when the car stopped before the door, and put her arm through his. "Have you been lonely without us, darling?" she said. "I'll stay with you till Norman goes through again. I know he isn't coming in."
It was in his usual rather expressionless voice that he asked her: "Had a good evening? The children and I practised archery, with some old bows and arrows they found upstairs. I think we must set that up properly."
It was a great relief to her to find him like this. When Norman came back slowly through the gate, he thanked him for bringing them home, and bid him good-night in his usual way. She could see that Norman was relieved too. There had been if not an actual quarrel something very like it, but this was the way in which such unfortunate occurrences between elders should be treated, with nothing of it allowed to be seen by those who looked up to them. She could not help comparing his attitude with that of Uncle William, who had taken it in such different fashion. Her father's dignity and self-control seemed to her to exhibit itself plainly beside his unwillingness to show himself under his annoyance. It was not difficult to judge which of the two was more likely to have been in the right.
They shut the gate and went back to the house. Colonel Eldridge kissed her good-night. "I'll go and have a word with mother," he said.