Page:The little blue devil (IA littlebluedevil00mackiala).pdf/231

Pamela did not like leaving the Straines. No one could help loving Alison, and the Professor was so kind and interesting, and Baby was a darling. What a pity she and Miss Sidmouth did not like the same people. At least, of course, Miss Sidmouth had liked Cousin Winthrop and his wife———

“She has quite a sweet voice for an American,” she had conceded; “and really good manners. It was a pleasant surprise.”

“You don’t count your other cousins American, then?” Pamela had asked.

“Of course not, my dear. Except Fanny’s husband. None of the others were born here—only some of the children—and naturally that makes all the difference.”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

Pamela wondered whether the new coterie of cousins in the distant State towards which they were travelling now would be more interesting than the New York circle. They were not. They were kindly, and made her welcome at the one or two houses in which she and Miss Sidmouth stayed, but somehow Pamela never felt at home. Perhaps she was not very good at making friends, and there were no boys or girls of her own age among the different families. There were school-children who made her feel shy—their frankness puzzled her, their boisterous ways rather alarmed her—or older people who were apt to treat her with a half-scornful pity, very hard to endure. She did wish Miss Sidmouth wouldn’t talk about her and explain her. As a