Page:The little blue devil (IA littlebluedevil00mackiala).pdf/245

ably with thick cream lace—her “best dress,” obviously, though Pamela hardly grasped that fact. It stood out behind her, almost like a crinoline, too stiff to trail, but well on the ground. In front it was much shorter, so that one saw thick, square-toed feet in shabby, wrinkled shoes.

It seemed to Pamela that the hard, cold eyes took her in, judged and condemned her at a glance, and somehow she immediately felt apologetic for her own attire. In her capacity as companion she had brought only her very plainest clothes to America, but now her dark serge tailor-made and small travelling hat seemed to be reproaching her aunt’s ill-fitting magnificence, and to her sensitive ears there was a note of hostility in the few words which suggested that she must be tired and would like to go to her room before she had tea.

“I must not imagine that sort of thing, though,” she thought, as she bathed her face and arranged her hair; “she didn’t look glad to see me, and she’s not-well, not like Uncle Markham-but lots of people have a manner that isn’t very gracious but doesn’t mean anything really, and of course she is no relation of mine, so she can’t be expected to want to have me particularly. . . . Uncle Markham is a dear, anyway.”

She went in to tea and made timid advances to Mrs. Learmonth, but Uncle Markham monopolised most of her attention, and his wife appeared to be a taciturn person who preferred to devote herself to pouring tea without even listening to any conversation that was going on round her. She did not meet Alick Power until supper. He was another new type—tall, and strongly made, but too thick set; a complexion that was inclined to be swarthy; black, staring eyes, and hair that made Pamela instantly decide that she only liked absolutely straight hair in a man. She wanted to like Alick Power for her uncle’s sake; there was so much pride and affection in the air with which he presented his