"Hum--how did she know these two rooms were yours and mine?" Then a light broke on Pamela’s mind. "I know, Midget--she’s been pumping Mrs. Trewby and Baker--I mean Mrs. Chipman, and they’ve told her things. Both of them know how we live and what we do with ourselves. She wasn’t sure quite which window, so she chucked it into the first one, which happens to be yours. I say though, it’s awful cheek! Fancy if anybody saw her." "Fancy if Addie and Crow were on the yawl and saw her in the garden--I say," Hughie chuckled, "they’d say it was you, Pam--they’d be certain this time." Pamela lay back on her pillow and frowned. "I wish she’d leave me alone, Midget. I’ve a feeling in my bones that she’ll get me into a mess before she’s done. I don’t believe she has a shred of consideration, now she knows we are alike." "Has she seen you, Pam?" asked Hughie with keen interest. "Seen me! Why, I perfectly forgot I’ve never told you a thing. Here, climb on the foot of the bed, and I’ll tell you exactly what happened to-day. I was so fearfully tired, and so busy warding off all the idiotic questions, that I never remembered I hadn’t told you." Hughie climbed up as suggested, packing himself like an Indian idol as usual, and listened to the true and complete version of the rescue on the Beak cliff. When it was ended he said: "Well, I thought it was fearfully funny that you got up Reube all alone. I’ve been down there----" "You have," interrupted Pamela with sharp disapproval, "then you’re not to do it again, Midget. Swear you won’t." Silence. "Well--look here," Pamela compromised, "if you won’t promise, will you tell me when you go and let me come too. Honestly, it isn’t safe for you. Reube slipped and was nearly killed. Only my going saved him." "I’ll tell you, Pam," agreed Hughie, impressed by her anxious tones. "That’s all right--on your honour, Midget, you’ve promised. Well, to go back to this woman, genuinely I shouldn’t have got up alone with that child. It was so slippery--one simply could not get a foothold to grip." "Major Fraser was thinking about it while he talked to us," remarked Hughie dryly, "_he_ was wondering, I saw him." "Well, he’ll have to wonder," answered Pamela shortly, "I’m getting fed up with this girl. By the way, Midget, her face isn’t like mine. She’s frightfully pretty." "So are you," said her brother with firmness. Pamela turned pink. "Oh no--not pretty. I may be interesting--I hope I am. And I know my hair’s decent. But really and honestly this girl is lovely--and yet--she didn’t exactly draw one. Some people make you love them on the spot." "Like Miss Lasarge," said Hughie. "Yes, she’s simply adorable--and that reminds me of an idea that came on me at supper. I can’t go into it now--but remember to remind me, would you, I might forget with all this rush of confusion. Oh dear! How tiresome people are sometimes--what was I saying?"