"Mummy, she told us she was going to make tea out of sage or--I don't know--some filth she'd heard or read about it. I expect she's given Charles a dose; I don't wonder he's in pain. But, Miss Chance, did she say anything about Lady Shard and the brooch? That is the thing that matters."
"I understood her to say that she would inquire, but her conversation was disconnected."
"You bet it was," said Adrian from his seat on the edge of the terrace.
"We must leave it for the present. There's the lunch bell--hurry, everybody," advised Mrs. Romilly, getting up and passing an arm through Christobel's.
"Mother, I wish we'd never sent it to Crown Hill," said Crow, as they went in at the big window. "Will you promise to ask about its fate? Don't let's lose it. After all, Addie found it, and failing an owner he ought to have it."
Mrs. Romilly promised to ask after a decent interval, and the matter dropped for the moment.
Nothing more happened about it except that, missing Hughie, Pamela sought him in "the cave" later on, where he was absorbed in making a doll's ulster out of a bit of checked fluffy material that had been given to Hennery Doe to make strips of, wherewith to fasten down the arms of plum trees on the north wall. Hughie, seeing infinite possibilities in the bit of stuff, had calmly annexed it, and it was now taking shape, the "arm-sleeves" proving a tough problem, owing to the thickness of the stuff and the smallness of the doll.
"Well," said the workman, when Pam looked over the barrier.
"There's a new bother, Midget."
"I know. I saw your face. Is it about that girl?"