"Why--on earth?" demanded Pamela, with a little frown of annoyance, as she shut her book smartly. "Why? Because I thought you’d gone in there. It was the only way to account for your disappearance." "For _hers_, you mean." "Yes; of course. Only, remember we were certain it was you then." "What did the Little Pilgrim say?" asked Pamela, with an accession of interest, as she pulled herself up in the chair, swinging her slim feet rather restlessly. "Oh, nothing much. She just listened, and said you weren’t there, and you hadn’t been, and she was sure it couldn’t be you--that was all. We thought she seemed rather nervous--rather sort of hesitating--but it might have been our fancy. You see, Pam, I was so sure it couldn’t be anyone but you, that I had a feeling the Little Pilgrim thought it was, but meant to hold her tongue. She’s such a little angel of kindness she’d always shield anybody she thought might be risking a fuss." "I daresay," allowed Pamela in a non-committal way; then she added, "well, are you satisfied now, Crow? I can only tell you again that I was in bed--at that time." "My dear old girl, if you say you were not the person we saw, there’s an end," answered Christobel warmly, yet even as she spoke she was faintly uneasy--Pamela was keeping something back. She was sure. However, there was no more to be said. She changed the subject. "Addie’s bathing," she said, "he loves bathing in the rain, and at the present moment it is pouring anchors and marlinespikes--where’s Hughie?" Pamela was just going to say where she thought Hughie was, but changed the information to a vague: "Oh--somewhere. You’re not going to fetch the yawl back to-day then, Crow?" Christobel said the tide would serve much better in the afternoon a bit later. It could be done now, but they would have to be home by five o’clock, or they’d have the whole weight of the ebb against them. "Better to have an hour or so to spare," she added cheerfully and went out. Pamela remained sitting in her nest, swinging her feet and thinking--thinking. "Then there was something in Mollie’s and Hughie’s accusation." She had come away yesterday from her venture at Woodrising persuaded that the whole thing was "tosh"--that Sir Marmaduke had kindly given a lift to Mrs. Chipman for old time’s sake--being in the neighbourhood himself, perhaps for business reasons. It was so natural that Mrs. Chipman should pay a visit to Mrs. Trewby, for they were acquaintances of old days.