“I will attend to all, my dear,” he murmured.

Mrs. Rumple nodded. A clatter came from the hallway where Pamela was dusting. Finishing her tea, the good wife entered the hall and addressed the girl.

“I am to have my hair dressed this morning, Pamela, and I shall not be here for most of the day. Mr. Rumple has some news to impart to you. Attend him now.”

“Yes, Mrs. Rumple.”

Pamela never curtsied, which annoyed her guardian. She would teach the next servant to do so as she believed they all did in the grand houses. Glaring slightly at the lissome suppleness of the girl's figure as Pamela dutifully, made her way to the dining room, Mrs. Rumple attended to her own affairs.

Horace received Pamela graciously. By his reckoning she had grown prettier by the month. Her chestnut locks fell thickly to her shoulders, which-such as he could see of them-were dazzling white. Her nose was neither too long nor too short and perfectly straight, being enhanced by two large, liquid eyes that ever seemed to hold an expression of wonderment. Of moderate height, the incurving of her waist and a certain fullness to her bottom-added to which was some impressive thrusting in her corsage-Pamela presented a picture of considerable allure.

“We-er-have something to discuss, Pamela. I think perhaps if we take a turn in the garden? I rather wanted to look at the summerhouse.”

A trifle surprised, Pamela followed him out. The grass was green and lush on the lawn, and many pretty thoughts came to her as she gazed at the flowers and shrubs.