"How _very_ odd," said Mrs. Romilly uncertainly. "Tell them just what happened to you, darling." "I went up the cliff to the top," Pamela answered, speaking rather quickly, "then I thought I’d just go to Champles and fetch a few eggs, as it was easy to carry them by the boat. And coming away from Champles I went round above the church, because it was so lovely--and there was a most awful bother going on--Crow, you know where Mr. Badger has all those sheep penned, and the field where the mare and the foal are in with those calves. Well, _all_ the sheep were out--hundreds--the whole place was covered, the mare had got into the cornfield where the young corn is just coming up green--and the calves had gone. I started to get the mare out, it took ages; then I saw the calves had gone into the field that’s nearly hay. It was particularly trying for Mr. Badger, because I knew he would be at Salterne market to-day and not back. Everyone else was gone home, of course. I got the mare back, and the calves, and some of the sheep. It took ages and ages; when I got to the cliff edge there was _Messenger_ sailing away. Certainly I didn’t blame Addie for a second. I only went to look on the off-chance of her being still in the creek--it was very late." Adrian made no remark from first to last. He hardly appeared to listen, but ate his supper in absorbed silence. Frankly, he did not believe a word of the story, but he did not know what to think. How his sister could dare to assert that they never saw her, and that the yawl was on her way home, was past understanding. Mrs. Romilly had come to the conclusion--from Adrian’s manner and Pam’s nervousness--that there had been some tiff on board, and the separation was due to disagreement. She changed the subject, and peace prevailed on the surface. *CHAPTER XVIII* *Mr. Badger calls at Bell House; and Christobel at Fuchsia Cottage* Hughie most tactfully refrained from saying one word to add to Pamela’s weariness that night. It was plain she was very tired--plain to her mother, who, for that reason perhaps, was a little inclined to be biased against the elder pair. It was not kind to leave the child alone at Champles Creek, when by their own story they had seen her and called to her. "After all, one of you might have gone up to see what was the matter, darling," she said to Crow later. "But, Mother, _she_ says we’d started." "I think she is saying it to shield you both; Pam is very generous," suggested Mrs. Romilly. "I suppose you mean that either way _we_ are wrong," answered Crow, a little wounded. "Well, do you think it was quite kind to leave her all alone? After a long tiring day? But never mind--a night’s rest will put it right, and certainly Pam bears no malice."