full on the face and figure of the Squire's new secretary as she
stood in the door-way. He expected an apology for an absence just
five minutes over the two hours; but she offered none.

'Pamela asked me to tell you, Mr. Mannering, that tea was ready
under the verandah.'

'Afternoon tea is an abominable waste of time!' said the Squire
discontentedly, facing her with a Greek pot under each arm.

'Do you think so? To me it's always the pleasantest meal in the
day.'

The voice was musical and attractive, but its complete
self-possession produced a vague irritation in the Squire. With his
two former secretaries, a Cambridge man and a spectacled maiden
with a London University degree, he had been accustomed to play the
tyrant as must as he pleased. Something had told him from the very
beginning that he would not be able to tyrannize over this newcomer.

But his quick masterful temper was already trying to devise ways of
putting her down. He beckoned her towards the table where she had
left her work, and she went obediently.

'You've got that line wrong.' He pointed to a quotation from the
_Odyssey_. 'Read it, please!'

She read it. He stopped her triumphantly.

'No, no, you can't make that long!' He pointed to one of the Greek