Countess shrugged her shoulders.
"Just so. That is well then. But if you received my note why did you not come to the wood?"
"Come! When?"
"The hour that I appointed. 8.30."
Pamela raised her eyebrows.
"So you expected me to go to Clawtol at half-past eight this morning, because you wished it! Doesn't it occur to you that you are--well--rather presumptuous? Why--on--earth--should I?"
Pamela fired off each word, as it were, with a separate emphasis.
The girl seemed a little taken aback by this way of looking at things.
"Wretched creature," thought Pamela suddenly, with the broad instinct of fair play natural to girls of her upbringing, "she's always had her own way. She thinks herself a little tin god! She doesn't understand!"
"Can I sit down?" she said aloud, and without waiting for an answer took her seat on a big sofa, near the window.