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Fielding. Pamela had never heard of him before, but had mentally decided he must, naturally, be “one of us,” and responded graciously, if a little shyly, to his advances, while she gently snubbed one or two other men, who were not quite like the men she was used to.

She did not quite like Sir Herbert either. Some of his comments on people and things jarred; but then, after all, she was not so very experienced in men, she concluded, and it was rather interesting to make friends for oneself like this, instead of having to accept what was chosen for one by a selection committee of aunts and cousins. So she smiled at Sir Herbert, a tall man of thirty-five, with shifty eyes, who considered Pamela one of the prettiest girls he had met for months, and far and away the greenest.

On the fourth day of their acquaintance Pamela experienced a shock from which she did not recover all the rest of the voyage. She had often wished he would not look at her quite as he did, or pay her such extravagant compliments. They made her uneasy, and she did not know how to deal with that kind of conversation, but she was not prepared for the sudden movement which brought him very near to her, and the touch of his arm round her waist made her heart stop beating for an instant—no one had ever dared insult her so! She blushed, she was sure, right down to the tips of her toes, and drew away as far as possible. She wanted to get up and fly to her cabin, but he must learn she was not the schoolgirl he evidently thought her.

“How dare you touch me!” she said, fire in her blue eyes.

Sir Herbert admired her very much like that. But what a silly child! He could not be bothered to make a fuss. He shrugged his shoulders.

“Why should I think you would object? You looked as if you needed support.”

Pamela did not have to cope with the situation further,