Again she conveyed an impression to Pamela that she was not telling the truth. Whether it was a true impression or not, it stiffened Pamela's resolution.
"I'm afraid I can't think of anything, then," she said, "if you don't know anyone really, and you won't let Mrs. Chipman offer a reward. If I find it, I'll leave it at the door with Mrs. Trewby. And now I must go, really and honestly."
"But you will come and see me," protested the Countess.
"How can I? You say yourself that Sir Marmaduke has put you here, and wishes no one to know. There must be some good reason for him to arrange that--he's an awfully kind, nice man, we all love him," said Pamela warmly. "I won't do sly things against his wish. Why, he's letting us use his lovely yacht now."
"That white yacht is his?" asked the other girl.
Pamela assented.
"And you go out on it when he is away?"
"He is allowing us to use her all the summer till he comes in September--it's awfully kind."
"Then who goes with you?" demanded the Countess; she seemed interested.
"No one, we manage her ourselves. There used to be a man, but they want him in the gardens at Crown Hill, so we go quite alone."