a's. She actually bicycled off to
the railway station, sent a telegram for her things, and came up to
Margaret. Alice Gaddesden is looking after father. But of course he
and she don't get on a bit.'

The Captain looked much concerned.

'It's a pity Pamela takes that line--don't you think? I really don't
see the conspirator in Miss Bremerton. I hoped when I saw her first
she would make just all the difference to Pamela.'

'Yes, it's puzzling. I ran down to see my father, who was in a rabid
state of mind, not knowing what to do with all the schemes and
business this clever woman started--perfectly lost without her.'

'Ah, that's the worst of your Indispensable!' laughed Chicksands.

Mannering threw him a quick, scrutinizing look. Various items of
information picked up at Mannering, mostly from his sister Alice,
had made him wonder whether some jealousy of a more vital and
intimate kind than appeared might not be at the root of Pamela's
behaviour. He was not observant at this period of his life, except
of things relating to his engagement to Beryl, his work, or those
inner pre-occupations which held him. But it had once or twice
crossed his mind that Pamela might be interested in Arthur; and
there had been certain hints from Beryl, who was, however, he was
certain, scarcely better informed than he was. Pamela was a most
secretive and independent young woman. He doubted whether even
Desmond, whom she adored, knew much about her.

Well, supposing she was jealous--jealous of her father's secretary,
and on account of Arthur, was there the smallest cause for it? He
understood that Arthur and Miss Bremerton had met occasionally, and
he had himself heard Chicksands express the warmest admiration for
her as the right sort of new woman, 'as straight as you make
'em'--and with 'a brain like a man'--which, from one who was always
rather a critical spectator than a courtier of women, was high
praise. But as for any spark of sex in it--Mannering laughed at the
notion. No. If that really was Pamela's delusion, something must be
done to rid his little sister of it if possible. He would talk to
Beryl.

But--as always when any new responsibility presented itself to
him--a deep inner weariness rebelled. In small things as in great,
he was mentally like a man walking and working with a broken limb.

* * * * *

Arthur Chicksands stood some time that evening waiting on the
doorstep of Mrs. Strang's sm