And there was a third, still more poignant, of a future in
which Elizabeth would be always there, the centre of the picture,
mistress of the house, the clever and charming woman, beside whom
girls in their teens had no chance.
She was startled out of these reflections by a remark from Desmond.
'You know, Pam, you ought to get married soon.'
The boy spoke shyly--but gravely and decidedly. Pam thought with a
sudden anguish--'He would never have said that, unless--'
She laid her head on his shoulder, clinging to him.
'I shan't get married, old boy.'
'Oh, that's nonsense! Look here, Pam--you mustn't mind my poking
my nose into things where I've no business. You see, it's
because--Well, I've sometimes thought--punch my head, if you
like!--that you had a fancy for Arthur Chicksands.'
Pamela laughed.
'Well, as he hasn't got any fancy for me, you needn't take that into
your dear old head!'
'Why, he was always very fond of you, Pam.'
'Oh, yes, he liked ragging me when I was a child. I'm not good
enough for him now.
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