Charles was not himself, if his normal condition was good temper. He was enraged with his persecutor and the worst of it was that he found it impossible to explain, except in snuffles, which did not count.
"Rosemary tea," murmured Aunt A., jerking the string, "or was it sage?"
"I should give him laurel water, Miss Ashington," said Adrian in a serious tone, "it has the most lasting effect on dogs of that breed."
"Laurel water! Really, I must remember that. Thank you, dear Adrian--come, Charles, come----"
She went--with the veil round her shoulders, and Charles coughing defiance at the enemy. Charles had heard the parting advice and knew perfectly well that "laurel water" was only a polite name for prussic acid.
"How could you, Addie?" Christobel expostulated.
"Oh, it does them good--they both enjoy it," said her brother, "you heard what she said about Pamela."
Christobel nodded. She was pleased. There was no doubt in the world that Pam had behaved like a heroine, yet Addie was trying to make her out something of a criminal! The matter was still more decided when the two reached Clawtol. They were overwhelmed with gratitude and honour by little Mrs. Ensor in the first place, and Ensor himself in the second.
These two had removed their son from Pamela's shoulders, and referred several times to his disconnected recollections of that awful time on the cliff front.
"They 'adn't a drop of water, sir," said Mrs. Ensor to Adrian, her eyes full of tears, "if I'd a known, my cup o' tea would 'ave choked me. And boy says--Miss Pam takes 'er handkercher, and lays it on the grass--to get misty like, then she puts it in 'is mouth. 'Suck that, Reube,' says she 'an I wish I could do better for you.' Wonderful I call it. Wonderful. And she nobbut a child 'erself when it comes to years. He's asleep now, missie, or you could see him."