so far as it went. In a day or two the tide would serve better, as there would be a later ebb in the afternoon.  
"The fact is, Miss Chance would rather like to make a shopping expedition to Salterne the same day--and couldn’t she come back in the boat?" asked Mrs. Romilly, innocent of all this involved--as mothers so often are.  
The silence that ensued was so full of meaning, that Mrs. Romilly answered it as though her daughter had spoken.  
"I think, darling child, that you ought--all of you--to make things as nice for Miss Chance as you can. There are no regular lessons just now, because of Addie being sent home, and Crow finishing up at Easter; besides, it will soon be Whitsuntide now; but I think we ought to try and make it as pleasant for her as possible, don’t you? She is always most kind."  
"Oh, yes, awfully kind," agreed Pamela hastily, "but Mother, are you sure she likes going on the yawl? You know she’d be rather a responsibility for Addie and Crow; she doesn’t understand a boat, she stands on the gunwale and expects the boat to wait as if it were a stone step! She truly might get drowned rather easily, you know, and what _could_ they do, if she fell overboard?""I see," murmured Mrs. Romilly thoughtfully, "yes, I see.  Well, she might come back by train.  I’ll talk to her about it.  At the same time, if she really wishes to go by sea, I’m sure it will be all right."

To this Pamela said nothing, but she formed an inward resolve that she would have nothing to do with this expedition.

*CHAPTER VIII* "Little Friend of all the World"

On a certain evening, a couple of days or so after this, the sky cleared beautifully, and the sun went down with grand promise of fine weather again.

Miss Chance was correcting French exercises in the library when Adrian and Christobel entered, very hot and triumphant--the Bell House lawns were mown to perfection, and to-morrow would suit in all ways for the fetching back of the yawl.

"It must be done to-morrow," Adrian threw himself with a crash on the springy sofa, "_must_ be--we can’t leave the _Messenger_ at Salterne any longer.  She must be on her moorings by this time to-morrow."

"I hope you will have a fine day, then," said Miss Chance, placing papers aside in a neat heap, "you had a terrible storm the day of your last expedition--terrible.  I always think though that thunder and lightning and such terrors must be sent for some good purpose--to teach us something."

"They teach 

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