“Oh, much better,” said Pamela; and then there came a pause. It was more than a pause. It was a dead stop, with no apparent possibility of revival. Pamela, for her part, like an inexperienced little girl, fidgeted on her chair, and wrapped herself close in her cloak. Was that all? His sister had a great deal more to say. Jack, though he was not inexperienced, was almost for the moment as awkward as Pamela. He went across the room to look at the picture out of the “Illustrated News;” and he spoke to Betty’s bird, which had just been regaled with the bit of plantain Pamela had brought; and, at last, when all those little exercises had been gone through, he came back. “I hope you like living here,” he said. “It is cold and bleak now, but in summer it is very pretty. You came at the worst time of the year; but I hope you mean to stay?” “Oh yes, we like it,” said Pamela; and then there came another pause. “My sister is quite pleased to think of having you for a neighbor,” said Jack. It was quite extraordinary how stupid he was. He could talk well enough sometimes; but at this present moment he had not a syllable to say. “Except Miss Hardcastle at the Rectory, she has nobody near, and my father and I are so much away.” Pamela looked up at him with a certain sweet surprise in her eyes. Could he too really think her a fit friend for his sister? “It is very kind of Miss Brownlow,” she said, “but I am only--I mean I don’t think I am--I--I am always with my mother.” “But your mother would not like you to be shut up,” said Jack, coming a little nearer. “I always look over the way now when I pass. To see bright faces instead of blank windows is quite pleasant. I dare say you never notice us.” “Oh yes,” cried Pamela. “And that pretty horse! It is such fun to live there and see you all passing.” She said this forgetting herself, and then she met old Betty’s gaze and grew conscious again. “I mean we are always so quiet,” she said, and began once more to examine the binding of her cloak. At this moment the bell from the great house began to tinkle pleasantly in the wintry air: it was another of Pamela’s amusements. And it marked the dinner hour at which her mother would look for her; but how was she to move with this young man behind her chair? Betty, however, was not so delicate. “I always set my clock by the luncheon-bell,” said old Betty. “There it’s a-going, bless it! I has my dinner by it regular, and I sets my clock. Don’t you go for to stir, Miss Pammly. Bless you, I don’t mind you! And Mr. John, he’s a-going to his lunch. Don’t you mind. I’ll set my little bit of a table ready; but I has it afore the fire in this cold weather, and it don’t come a-nigh of you.” “Oh, mamma will want me,” said Pamela. “I shall come back another time and see you.” She made Jack a little curtsy as she got up, but to her confusion he came out with her and opened the gate for her, and sauntered across the road by her side.