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The
soreness of it bewildered her.
Presently, as they were walking back to the house, leaving Sir
Henry in anxious consultation over the mushroom-house with the
grey-haired head gardener, her companion turned to her abruptly.
'I suppose _that's_ all right!' He pointed to some distant figures
on the fringe of a wood.
'Beryl and Aubrey? Yes--if Aubrey can make her see that she isn't
doing him any harm by letting him go on.'
'Good heavens! how could she do him any harm?'
'Well, there's Mannering. As if that mattered!' said the girl
scornfully. 'And then--Beryl's too dreadfully humble!'
'Humble! About what? No girl ought to be humble--ever!'
Pamela's eyes recovered their natural brilliance under his
peremptory look. And he, who had begun the walk with no particular
consciousness at all about his companion, except that she was a
nice, good-looking child, whom he had known from a baby, with equal
suddenness became aware of her in a new way.
'Why shouldn't we be humble, please?' she said, with a laugh.


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