"Who can’t?" interrupted Pamela sharply, pausing with a glass of potted meat in her hand. "All of them--Mollie, and Jim Crow, and Addie, and the worst is that Addie will be cross most of the time now, which is a fearful pity; he won’t help me do my rigging, because it will remind him of the yawl. It’s most unlucky for everybody." "Why can’t they sail the _Messenger_ any more?" asked Pamela, going on with her supper. The thought flashed through her mind that the sudden and brief appearance of Sir Marmaduke was going to be explained simply. "Because the gardens at Crown Hill are in a mess," Hughie went on with slow emphasis, "they are in a _fearful_ mess, and everything is growing too fast, and Mr. Jordan can’t do it, and there aren’t any men, because they’re mostly dead in the War. Miss Ashington says Penberthy has got to go in the gardens the whole while. Not a minute on the sea--and you know they can’t go without Penberthy, Sir Marmaduke won’t let them." "Beastly hard luck," said Pamela firmly. "I expect it’s Fate," Hughie suggested thoughtfully. "Why can’t they have Peter Cherry from Woodrising?" said Pamela, ignoring fate. "It isn’t any good asking me," answered Hughie, "because, how can I tell? But anyway Woodrising is simply bursting with weeds, and the more there are, the more they come. He must stay and pull them out, and plant greens for Mrs. Trewby. She eats greens, she told Mrs. Jeep she _has_ to. He can’t possibly go to Crown Hill, and Miss Ashington is worried about the garden, Mollie says she is." The door opened and Miss Chance looked round the edge of it. "Ah, _there_ you are, little runaway!" she said with her usual sprightliness, "I’ve found you." "I wasn’t lost, Miss Chance. I was only talking to Pam," remarked the little runaway, letting himself drop over the back of the sofa in an ingenious and complicated manner. Miss Chance turned her attention to Pamela. "You’ve come back, dear," she suggested, "I hope it’s all right about the Stores’ cases; Mrs. Jeep will be so glad to have them." Pamela explained her accident, mentioned that she had been obliged to walk back, and gave the message from Five Trees, namely, that the cases had not come, but should be sent on at once when they did. She added that she was just going in to tell her mother. She said everything she could think of to forestall the inevitable questions, and good Miss Chance swept Hughie away to bed, remarking that it was late, but that the days were getting longer, and the summer would soon be here. "That’s what will make it harder for poor old Addie, about the yawl," thought Pamela, as she got up from the table, and departed for the scene of woe. She was very glad that Hughie’s information had "put her wise", as the folk of the far west say--it would have been so galling for Adrian if she had plunged in, and asked what the matter was to start off with. That was Pam’s way of looking at it.