took the top off the duck's egg and looked at it in an interested way.
"It's a beautiful colour--orange--but"--she pushed it away--"I don't
think I can eat it."

She drank some tea and ate a baker's roll, which was excellent; then she
rang the bell.

When Bella appeared she at once noticed the headless but uneaten egg,
and, taking it up, smelt it.

"What's wrang wi' the egg?" she demanded.

"Oh, nothing," said Pamela quickly. "It's a lovely egg really, such a
beautiful colour, but"--she laughed apologetically--"you know how it is
with eggs--either you can eat them or you can't. I always have to eat
eggs with my head turned away so to speak. There is something about the
yolk so--so----" Her voice trailed away under Miss Bathgate's stolid,
unsmiling gaze.

There was no point in going on being arch about eggs to a person who so
obviously regarded one as a poor creature. But a stand must be taken.

"Er--Miss Bathgate----" Pamela began.

There was no answer from Bella, who was putting the dishes on a tray.
Had she addressed her rightly?

"You _are_ Miss Bathgate, aren't you?"

"Ou ay," said Bella. "I'm no' mairret nor naething o' that kind."