By the time Pam was fifteen, she had grown taller, her hair had grown long again, and she had settled into Avonlea as though she had been born there. Though some (mainly Katy Pye) still referred to her as 'the orphan the Vances adopted', she had carved out a place for herself in the town and was well liked by just about everyone. 

Her life had not changed much in two years. She still sat with Kelly at school, though their knees bumped the underside of the desk and their skirts were longer. They still picnicked with Meredith and Angela, though all had outgrown the custom of acting out stories and poems and preferred more intellectual conversation- that is, Pam and Angela enjoyed it, while Meredith and Kelly were still inclined to be silly about boys.

Meredith had announced that she intended to have three or four beaus on a string, and Kelly made it known that she only wanted one beau, but that his name had to start with 'Ryan' and end with 'Wright'.

That night, Pam had told Phyllis, "If that's what liking a boy is like, then I'm glad I have no interest in the subject." 

Phyllis had nodded, but then added, "It's good not to be too silly, but leave a little room for romance in your life, Pam."

Pam had smiled ruefully. "I will. I'm not in a rush though; it's so lovely to be just the way I am right now."

It was true; she had a wonderful home, enjoyable friends (even if they were a bit boy-crazy sometimes) and a rewarding school life. Her friendship with Jim had lent itself very naturally to a friendly rivalry in the classroom; each working hard to keep up with the other.

Pam enjoyed it very much; it was fun to see if she could best Jim in tests and bees, and she knew he enjoyed the challenge as well. Their friendship remained solely in the classroom, though. It was almost as if it would be something different if they spent time together outside the classroom. Pam didn't like the idea of what it might imply; she had no interest in courting or beaus, and Jim said nothing to push the issue. He seemed happy enough that there was no longer any animosity from Pam, and he wisely refrained from teasing her. Pam recognized him as a good friend and sometimes confidante when it came to her artwork, and she enjoyed their roles.

  *

One autumn afternoon found Pam and Phyllis in the sweltering kitchen at Green Gables. It was an unusually warm day and Phyllis had just finished her weekly baking of bread. Pam was occupied with a plum pudding, having promised Bob that she'd try her hand at it, as it was his favorite dessert.

Phyllis wiped her floury hands on a dishcloth and then wiped her apron over her sweaty brow. "Pam, I'm going out to the barns to get some cream,” she said, picking up a tin pail and heading out the kitchen door.

Pam privately thought that she wouldn't make the mistake of following Phyllis; once, she had entered the barn to see Bob kissing Phyllis with such fervor that it was embarrassing for Pam. They hadn't seen her, and she had crept out of the barn, cheeks blazing. That was one of the reasons she had decided that she had no room for romance at this point in her life. No one made her feel that way, and until someone did, she was not going to waste her time.

She reached into the cool cupboard where she had set the plum pudding sauce to rest last night and with a guilty start, she realized she hadn't set the cheesecloth on top of it as she was supposed to. Phyllis had warned her that mice loved the sweet sauce, and sure enough, a dead one was floating in the sauce, speckled with nutmeg as if it belonged there.

Pam nearly dropped the bowl but regained her composure. She fished it out with a spoon and tucked the offending intruder in a piece of butcher paper, hoping to sneak it out before Phyllis came back inside. 

Shuddering at the weight of the bundle in her hand, Pam started out the kitchen door just as Phyllis was climbing up the porch stairs. She had a pail of cream and also carried several tomatoes and a cucumber. "I thought since it's so hot, that we could have a cold dinner. I'll just slice up some bread and vegetables," said Phyllis. 

"Sounds lovely to me!" said Pam as she sidled through the door and ran out to the wooden rubbish bin near the pigpen. Using a stick, she buried her parcel deep within and hurried back into the kitchen.

Phyllis looked at her quizzically when Pam scrubbed her hands under the pump, but said nothing and went back to slicing tomatoes; evidently she had grown used to the sometimes odd ways of young girls. 

As Pam moved from the pump back to the table, they heard a sharp knock on the front door. "Who on earth is calling now, just before suppertime?" wondered Phyllis with a slight look of annoyance. She untied her apron and hung it on a hook as she headed toward the front entryway.

As soon as Pam heard Mr. Scott's voice at the front door, she got a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach.  Had Dwighde figured out that it had been she and Jim that had inched his inkwell across his desk each time he'd gone to the outhouse last week? Jim had nearly convinced him that there were ghostly forces present, but perhaps Dwighde had figured out the truth and tattled to Mr. Scott. Or perhaps Dwighde had discovered that it had been she and Jim who had traded his advanced reader with that of Abby Malone, who was only ten and quite keen to be in on the joke. Dwighde had been so angry when he had studied the wrong words for the weekly spelling bee, so perhaps he had weaseled the truth out of Abby and then told Mr. Scott?

She crept to the doorway and moved silently into the parlor, wiping her wet hands on her apron. She saw Mr. Scott remove his hat and bow to Phyllis.

"Good evening, Miss Cuth-, I mean to say, Mrs. Vance! I keep forgetting that you finally got married. Goodness, that must have been a relief to a woman of your age," he said brightly.

"Michael, I'm the same age as you," Phyllis said amiably, ignoring the slight in his speech with the expertise of someone who had known the man for a long time.  

"No, I think you've got a few years on me," chuckled Mr. Scott.

"Michael, we went through Avonlea school from the primary class until we graduated," replied Phyllis in the same tone. "And you're not married yet."

Mr. Scott smiled and waved his hand. "It's different for men," he said heartily.

"Michael, is there something I can help you with?" asked Phyllis, now sounding a bit tired.

"Actually, I came here to talk about Pam," he said, and Pam cowered even more into the darkness of the parlor.

"Oh dear, what has she done now?" she heard Phyllis ask.

"Nothing in the way of smashing school supplies, don't worry. I was coming to see if she would be interested in joining a special class I'm starting for students who are interested in attending Queens College in the next few years," said Mr. Scott, and Pam's heart jumped.

"Our Pam? Go to college?" asked Phyllis, a note of pride in her voice. Pam moved out of the shadows, and Phyllis smiled at her. "How's that, Pam? Would you like to go to college and pass for a teacher?"

Pam's mind raced. She had never given much thought to her future other than rosy fantasies of traveling and painting beautiful scenes, but now the prospect of college made her see that others thought she could do things as well. Being a teacher would mean that she could support herself and contribute something to society after feeling like a burden for so much of her life, and Pam rather liked the idea. 

"Mr. Scott, won’t you stay for supper and tell Pam all about it?" asked Phyllis graciously.

He assented, and as she led him into the parlor, Phyllis whispered to Pam, "There's that ham in the icebox, we'll heat that up and stew the tomatoes. We can't give him a cold dinner, who knows what he would tell people!" 

Pam moved into the kitchen and carried out Phyllis's orders as Bob came in from the barns and washed up for dinner.

He seemed delighted when Mr. Scott and Phyllis filled him in. "Our little girl, a college woman?" he said, squeezing Pam affectionately, and Pam could do nothing but smile.

They sat down to eat in the dining room, and Mr. Scott looked around saying, "Goodness, you've done well for yourselves; Vance Dairy must be booming!"

Pam and Bob could only look at each other at this pronouncement; luckily, Phyllis appeared with the ham on a tray. "Ah, baked Pam and tomatoes," joked Mr. Scott, and Pam wondered if this was going to be a very long meal.

After breezing through diverse topics such as sugar ("I told Mother I couldn't believe how much Mr. Lawson charged me for a bag of brown sugar!) and the Widow Gould (“I'm quite certain that she's just waiting a more appropriate amount of time before I may begin to court her.") Mr. Scott finally got around to telling Pam about the Queen's class.

"I thought three times a week for an hour after school might be a good amount to give you some additional instruction in order to make admission to college easier, so I'm gathering up a group of students. Perhaps now the school board will see that I am actually teaching, since they seem unconvinced," he said, finishing up his helping of ham and vegetables.

"Who else is in the class?" asked Bob, and Mr. Scott leaned back in his chair. "I haven't gotten around to everyone yet, but there's Kevin Spurgeon MacPherson, Toby Sloane, Jim Blythe, Katy Pye..."

"I'll join," said Pam earnestly, and Phyllis glanced at her curiously as she went to get dessert from the kitchen.

It was only when Phyllis carried in four heaping dishes of plum pudding covered liberally in nutmeg sauce did Pam remember her furry little problem from earlier.

She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. How on earth would they react? She sat, frozen in fear and disbelief, and only when Mr. Scott was about to take his first bite could she finally speak.

"Mouse!" she gasped and Mr. Scott shrieked and dropped the spoon.

"Pam, what are you talking about?" asked Bob, noting the absence of a mouse in the room. "Is this a joke?" asked Mr. Scott, panting.

“A mouse drowned in the sauce, and I tried to tell you just now," said Pam miserably, and Phyllis jumped up and hurriedly gathered the pudding dishes.

"I forgot to put the cheesecloth over it, and I got distracted by the cows outside, it looked like they were having a conversation, and I was wishing I could draw them."

At that, Bob's red face grew redder, and he started to laugh. Phyllis broke down into laughter as well, and even Pam managed a sheepish smile. "I guess it was a delicious way to drown," she said, and finally, Mr. Scott smiled reluctantly.

It was only later as she got ready for bed in her little gabled bedroom that Pam wondered what Mr. Scott would say to her in school. She groaned at the thought. Still, she was going to try her hardest to be a college girl, and that thought carried her happily to sleep.