"'Ere's me—done this gardin—man and boy—for forty year—and I don't 'ave no interference," cried Silas.
"Oh, I suppose you are Miss Crabingway's gardener?" said Pamela.
"Leave it be, my gels," was all Silas replied. "If you'd arxed me I'd a-given you summat to do—but not that bush—you oughter arxed me first."
"How dare you speak to us like that—" began Isobel, angrily.
But Pamela interrupted with, "It's no good, Isobel, I think he's deaf. He doesn't seem to hear anything we say."
"I don't care whether he's deaf or not deaf—I won't be spoken to like that by a servant. Such impertinence!" cried Isobel.
Silas meanwhile had continued talking without a pause, while he advanced slowly down the path toward them.
Pamela moved forward to meet him, and raising her voice tried to make him understand what they were doing and who they were.
"I'm sorry if you think we've done any harm to the garden—but I don't think we have, you know," she cried. "And we didn't know Miss Crabingway had a gardener."
Silas caught the last sentence. This indeed was adding insult to injury, though Pamela had not meant to be in the least insulting.