He opened one or two. Yes, there was no doubt she was a clever woman—unpardonably and detestably clever. Affairs which had been mountains for years had suddenly become mole-hills. In this new phase he felt himself more helpless than ever to deal with them. She, on the contrary, might have put everything straight—she might have done anything with him—almost—that she pleased. He would have got rid of his old fool of an agent and put in another, that she approved of, if she had wished.
But no!—she must try and dictate to him in public—on a matter of public action. She must have everything her own way. Opinionated, self-conceited creature!
When tea-time came he rang for Forest, and demanded that a cup of tea should be brought him to the library. But as the butler was leaving the room, he recalled him.
'And tell Miss Bremerton that I shall be glad of her company when she has finished her tea.'
Forest hesitated.
'I think, sir, Miss Bremerton is out.'
Out!—was she? Her own mistress already!
'Send Miss Pamela here at once,' he commanded.
In a minute or two a girl's quick step was heard, and Pamela ran in.
'Yes, father?'