Pamela liked men, that is to say, men who were original and interesting; yet she had engaged herself to the most unoriginal man in England: a fact for which there is no accounting, save on the hypothesis that she was a woman. The governess cart having climbed a long, long hill, the hog-maned pony took to himself wings, and presently, in a cloud of dust, halted. "The Roost," though a fairly large house, did not boast a carriage-drive. A gate in a high hedge led to a path through a rose-garden which was worth all the carriage-drives in existence. "We have several people staying with us, did I tell you?" said Pamela as she led the way. "Hamilton-Cox, the man who wrote the 'Pillar of Salt,' and Wilson--Professor Wilson of Oxford, and--but come on, and I'll introduce you." They entered a pleasant hall. The perfume of cigars and the sound of a man's laughter came from a half-open door on the right. Pamela made for it, and as Charles Bevan followed he heard a rich Irish voice. "My friend Stacey, of Castle Stacey, raised one four foot broad across the face; such a sunflower was never seen by mortal man, I measured it with my own hands--four foot----" Bevan suddenly found himself before a man, an immense, good-looking, priestly-faced man, in his shirt-sleeves, a cigar in his mouth, and a billiard cue in his hand. "Mr Charles Bevan, Mr Lambert; Mr Bevan, Professor Wilson; Mr----" "Why, sure to goodness it's not my cousin, Charles Bevan of the 'Albany'!" cried the big man, effusively clasping the hand of Charles and gazing at him with the astonished and joyous expression of a man who meets a dear and long-lost brother. Mr Bevan intimated that he was that person. "But, sure to goodness," said the big man, dropping Charles' hand and scratching his head with a puzzled air, then he turned on his heel: "Where's my coat?" He found his coat and took from it a pocket-book, from the pocket-book a telegram and a sheet of paper, whilst Pamela turned to Professor Wilson and the novelist. "I got that from your lawyer, Mr Bevan," said he, "some days ago." Charles read: "Bevan has stopped action. Isn't it sweet of him?--HANCOCK." "Yes," said Charles rather stiffly, "I stopped the action, but Hancock seems to have--been drinking." "And there's the reply I was going to send, only I forgot it," said George Lambert, handing the copy of a telegram to Charles. "Tell Bevan I relinquish all fishing rights. Wish to be friends.--GEORGE LAMBERT." "It is very generous of you," said Charles, really touched. "But I can't have it, we'll divide the rights."