helpless laughter. 'Take him away, Peter,' she gasped, 'and fetch the gold-fish: he'll be a more restful companion. . . . Ninny, how do you put up with this all day long? But you seem to thrive on it.'
The children and the puppy were removed, so that a peaceful talk was possible. At last Pamela said: 'I'm taking up all your morning. What should you be doing now?'
'Nothing,' said Jean, 'nothing that matters. Some time I'm going to see The Neuk and Betty Barton.'
'Betty--oh, the secretary. I remember her. Let's go now, shall we?'
The two eldest children were waiting, ready, and, as they all went down the flagged path bordered by lavender bushes, Jean said:
'Hadn't we better shake hands with Miss Bathgate? I haven't seen her for an age. . . .'
Miss Bathgate herself opened the door, dressed at that early hour in her best brown coat-frock and cairngorm brooch, and, after greeting the party, took them into 'the good room,' where a fire was burning.
'Would ye like a piece?' she asked the children, and, on the principle of never refusing a good offer, they promptly said they would.
'Oh, don't trouble, please,' Jean pleaded, but Miss Bathgate, remarking 'They're in the lobby press,' stalked out of the room and returned with a plateful of sugar-biscuits.
'Bairns like fancy biscuits,' she said. '. . . And how are ye yersel', Lady Bidborough? I hevna seen ye for an age, but ye're no that much changed.'
She turned to study the children. 'That laddie,' she said, indicating Peter, 'is like his faither. When Mhor was his age he was an awfu' bonnie laddie. . . . I dinna ken who the lassie's like.'
Pamela thought it the moment to thrust herself into the conversation.
'I had such a happy time in this room,' she said.
'Ye hed that,' Bella agreed. 'But I daresay ye hardly recognise it noo. I've improved it a lot.' She looked proudly round. 'This suite was made for me: the sideboard's a beauty. I got the carpet at a sale. It's an Axminster, an' I keep a crumbcloth on it when I let ma rooms.' She added, 'I've got to be carefu' who I let into my rooms since I refurnished them.'
'Quite,' said Pamela, while Jean stooped to pick up the crumbs left by the children on the carpet. 'You've no one at present?'
'Ma last lot went last week--two maiden ladies from Arbroath. I never tak' men: they've nesty ways--tobacco smoke in ma curtains an' hot suppers.' Jean got up to go, explaining that they were on their way to see The Neuk.
'Ay,' said Miss Bathgate, 'it's a braw hoose. A daft-like thing to keep a secretary and servants in't. Ye'd be better there wi' the bairns than in The Rigs.'
'Perhaps,' Jean agreed meekly, 'but I wanted to be in the old place. Sentiment, I suppose.' She smiled as she held out her hand. 'It is nice to see old friends again. Say "Thank you," children, for the biscuits.'
'Never,' said Pamela, as they found themselves out on the road, 'never did I know anyone who could so put one in one's place and keep one there as Bella Bathgate!'
'She certainly doesn't encourage conceit,' Jean said. 'I gather that she found me changed and aged, the children almost painfully plain: you far from reaching the level of what she thinks a boarder should be. . . . It's rather refreshing, don't you think? Mrs. McCosh is another who is entirely unimpressed by anyone's importance. No deference to be expected from that couple--This is The Neuk. What a nice garden! Look, Peter, a swing!'
The Neuk was a solid, well built villa, complete with all modern conveniences and comfortably furnished.
The sisters-in-law found Miss Barton installed in a small sunny room opening into the garden. She had arranged the typing machine, her books, and stacks of papers, very neatly on a plain oak table, and, trim in a tweed frock, was working busily when discovered.
'We've met before,' Mrs. Elliot said, as she shook hands. 'How do you find yourself? It all looks very business-like, and this is a pleasant writing-room, quiet, and out of the way.'
'Yes, quite.' Standing very erect, Betty Barton was almost the same height as Mrs. Elliot.
'Well, I think you'll like Priorsford. We'll hope to see you all at Laverlaw one day soon.' She turned away to look at the pictures on the wall, while Jean turned over some letters.
'Bring these in this afternoon, will you, Barty?'
'Yes, Lady Bidborough.'
'Coming, Pamela? We're going to look over the house, Barty. Good-bye, just now.'
Mrs. Elliot was pondering as they looked through the rooms.
'When the boys come they'll put up here, of course. Will Miss Barton preside over things?'
'Yes,' said Jean, 'I suppose so. I hadn't really thought of it.'
'She's very young, you know, and quite remarkably good-looking. Is it quite wise, d'you think?'
'You mean, it isn't quite fair to Barty? She's a nice girl, you know, Pamela.'
'I'm sure she is. I don't care much myself for that type of chill young woman. Very assured. Very competent. Where did you get her?'
'Some one told me about her who had known her people. Her father was killed, and her mother died, leaving Barty and a younger brother. There was enough to educate them and leave a little over. Barty was at Somerville and did very well. She's far too good for what I require, but I can't spare her: she's such a stand-by to me, and I've learned to trust her judgment: over and over again she's proved right and I've been wrong.'
Pamela shook her head. 'No wonder Miss Barton has an omnipotent air. Very bad for the young woman to be always in the right. But it's a blessing you have such a person when Biddy is away.' She looked at her wrist-watch. 'Half-past twelve! I must be getting back. . . . I've people coming for luncheon.'
'Oh--I hoped you'd stay with us. When will you and Lewis come? To-morrow? Saturday?'
'Saturday would be nice; and you must come in a body to Laverlaw and spend a long day as often as you can. . . . Jean, I want to know, how d'you mean to live at The Rigs?'
'Live?' Jean looked questioningly at her companion.
'Yes. Are you going to be content with the children, with Lewis and me, and perhaps one or two of your old friends, or are you going to enter into the life of Priorsford (which I understand is a perfect welter of tea-parties and bridge), and be at every one's beck and call?--as you are, my dear, at Mintern Abbas: they take advantage of you: I know it.'
Jean grinned broadly. 'You make me sound something between a worm and a busybody! No, I don't mean to fling myself into the giddy whirl of Priorsford--I've neither the time nor the desire for it--but I shall enjoy seeing my old friends, dear Mrs. Hope, and Miss Janet Hutton, and others, and while I'm living here I'll help in any way I can. . . . Biddy thought it would be quite a good plan for Peter and Alison to go to school. I'm sure Miss Main would give Peter a taste of school before he goes to Evelyn's. I must go and see her at once. I wish Elspeth was still there.'
'The daffodil girl! She's married, isn't she?'
'Yes, to a naval man; and they've got a beautiful blue-eyed
