"Of course you want to know about poor little what's-his-name," she said, drifting on from the farm questions. "I sent to inquire, because the milk boy told Mrs. Homer about the affair. Dear Pamela seems to have rescued the child in a most heroic manner. So difficult to climb up cliff's with a boy on your back----"
"On her back," echoed Christobel in a surprised tone.
"Mrs. Ensor--or somebody--Oh yes, little Joe said she was carrying the child on her back, and he was unconscious. Really, you know, my dear children, I think steps should be taken to obtain the Humane Society's medal for dear Pamela."
"Isn't that to do with drowning, though?" murmured Crow.
"Well, dear, the child would have been drowned had he fallen from the Beak. It is practically the same thing. I will write to my brother and put the matter before him--something really must be done. I feel that we ought not to lose sight of your sister's courageous act. Sir Marmaduke would, I am certain, be the first to insist----"
She was stopped suddenly by finding herself entangled in the lead. Charles had gone twice round a tree stem.
"Really," murmured Auntie A., "really, this is most----" the rest of the protest was lost in the folds of the veil which was coming off the brim of her hat again.
Adrian picked up Charles and, walking backwards twice round the tree trunk, set the confusion clear.
Miss Ashington did not laugh--she had not the faintest sense of humour, but a very large heart. She beamed with gratitude from a space between the veil and the hat.
"Thank you, dear Adrian, how good of you. We must go home. I feel convinced poor Charles is not himself."