Just as they were finishing tea Mrs. M'Cosh ushered in Miss Pamela
Reston.

"You did say I might come in when I liked," she said as she greeted
Jean. "I've had tea, thank you. Mhor, you haven't been to see me
to-day."

"I would have been," Mhor assured her, "but Jean said I'd better not. Do
you invite me to come to-morrow?"

"I do."

"There, Jean," said Mhor. "You can't _un_-vite me after that."

"Indeed she can't," said Pamela. "Jock, this is the book I told you
about.... Please, Miss Jean, don't let me disturb you."

"We've finished," said Jean. "May I introduce Mr. Reid?"

Pamela shook hands and at once proceeded to make herself so charming
that Peter Reid was galvanised into a spirited conversation. Pamela had
brought her embroidery-frame with her, and she sat on the sofa and
sorted out silks, and talked and laughed as if she had sat there off and
on all her life. To Jean, looking at her, it seemed impossible that two
days ago none of them had beheld her. It seemed--absurdly enough--that
the room could never have looked quite right when it had not this
graceful creature with her soft gowns and her pearls, her
embroidery-frame and heaped, bright-hued silks sitting by the fire.