"No, I shan't," snapped Betty. "There's heaps to do still, and it's getting too cold for cottons. Just my luck! I always seem to be making mistakes. It wasn't my fault that that stupid girl looked up and caught us watching." The underlying thought showed itself in the sudden change of subject, but Pam was not surprised, for in her quiet, shrewd little way she had divined it long ago. "But you said she'd look up, so you could have moved if you liked. I don't think it was very perlite," she said solemnly. "There were all four of you at the window, and my eyes peeping round Miles' back. I expect it looked pretty fearful. She went purple, didn't she? It's horrid to blush! I did once when I got a prize before people, and I hated it." "Oh, you! You are a modest little mouse. The Pet is quite different. Nasty thing, she might have been satisfied without making mischief between Miles and me! She has everything that she wants, and that _I_ want, and haven't got. She's pretty, and rich, and has a lovely big house and heaps of people to wait upon her, and nice things, and-- everything! You can't think how I hate her!" Pam leant her thin arms on the table, and meditated for a long, thoughtful moment. When she spoke, it was, as usual, to deliver herself of the unexpected. "That's what you call `envy, hatred, and malice,' I s'pose," she said thoughtfully, and Betty's head came up with a jerk to turn upon her a glance of suspicious inquiry. No! The round, grey eyes were as clear, as innocent, as guilelessly adoring as she had ever seen them. They gazed into her own without a shadow of self-consciousness, and as she met that gaze Betty flushed, and the irritable lines disappeared from her face as if wiped out by a sponge. "One for you, Pam," she cried, laughing. "I _am_ a pig! A nice big elder sister I am, to set you such an example! I'm cross, dear. Everything has gone wrong the whole day long. You had better run off and leave me alone, or I'll snap again. I feel all churned up inside! This is only a temporary lapse." "There's scones for tea; I saw the bag in the pantry. S'pose I went downstairs and coaxed cook to toast them? You said yourself toasted scones were soothing. If Miles smells them he's sure to come," said Pam shrewdly, and Betty leant forward and kissed her impetuously on the cheek. "There's one comfort," she cried; "I've got you, and the Pet hasn't! You are the comfort of my old age, Pamela, my child. Yes, toasted! And lots of butter, and leave the door wide open, so that the smell may get out, and lure Miles back." CHAPTER TWO. THE PEOPLE OF THE SQUARE.