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"I think," said Lewis Elliot, "that that must be the Pamela Reston I used to know. Did you say she was living in Priorsford?" "Yes, in a cottage called Hillview, next to The Rigs, you know," Mrs. Jowett explained. "Mhor made friends with her whenever she arrived, and took her in to see Jean. You can imagine how attractive she found the whole household."
"I wish I could be there to hear the conversation," said Pamela. "Jock with his company manners is a joy." An hour later Lewis Elliot accompanied Pamela back to Hillview. "It's rather absurd," he protested. "I'm afraid I'm inflicting myself on you, but if you will give me half an hour I shall be grateful." "You must tell me about Biddy," Pamela said, as she sat down in her favourite chair.
The handle of the door turned and a voice said, "May I come in?" and without waiting for permission Pamela Reston walked in, bare-headed, wrapped in a cloak, and with her embroidery-frame under her arm, as she had come many times to The Rigs during her stay at Hillview. When Jean heard the voice it seemed to her as if everything was transformed. Mrs.
It was his own little town, his birthplace and I thought the name sung itself like a song. I made inquiries about rooms and found that in a little house called Hillview, owned by one Bella Bathgate, I might lodge. I liked the name of the house and its owner, and I hope to find in Priorsford peace and great content.
There are six little houses, each exactly like Hillview, and I would like to be able to nod to the owners as I pass. It would be more friendly." Pamela and Jean, with Mhor and Peter, were walking along the road that contained Hillview and The Rigs. "Every house in this road is a twin," said Mhor, "except The Rigs. It's different from every other house."
"Biddy," said his sister, "why didn't you wire to me? I have taken no rooms." "Oh, that's all right a porter at the station, a most awfully nice chap, put me into a sort of fly and sent me to one of the hotels a jolly good little inn it is and they can put me up. Then I asked for Hillview, mentioning the witching name of Miss Bella Bathgate, and they sent a boy with me to find the place.
When will you come and see Davie?" "Let me see. I'm lunching at Hillview on Friday May I come in after luncheon? Thanks. You must all come up to Laverlaw one day next week. The puppies are growing up, Mhor, and you're missing all their puppyhood; that's a pity." Later in the evening, just before Mhor's bedtime Lord Bidborough came to The Rigs.
I wonder whether I should take rooms for him in the Hydro, or in one of these nice old hotels in the Nethergate? I wish I could crush him into Hillview, but there isn't any room, alas!" "I wish," said Jean, and stopped. She had wanted in her hospitable way to say that Pamela's brother must come to The Rigs, but she checked the impulse with a fear that it was an absurd proposal.
"I'll not give it to the Government," said Jean, "but we may count ourselves lucky if they don't thieve it from us. I'm at one with Bella Bathgate when she says, 'I'm no verra sure aboot thae politicians Liberal or Tory. I think she fears that any day they may grab Hillview from her." "Anyway," David persisted, "we might have a car. I learned to drive at Oxford.
Mawson smiled happily and departed to put on her hat, while Pamela sat down to compose telegrams. These finished, she began, as was her almost daily custom, to scribble a letter to her brother. "c/o Miss B. BATHGATE, HILLVIEW, PRIORSFORD, SCOTLAND.
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