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Sir Henry felt a slight annoyance. He
was a good fellow, and no more touchy as to personal dignity than
the majority of men of his age and class. But he was accustomed to
be treated with a certain deference, and in Miss Bremerton's manner
there was none whatever.
'Well, good-bye, Pamela. I mustn't miss your father. When are you
coming over to see Beryl?'
'How am I to get there?' said the girl with a sudden laugh.
'Oh, I see, you've got no petrol allowance?'
'How should we? Nobody's doing any war work here.'
There was an odd note in the speaker's voice.
'Why don't you join Beryl in her canteen work?' said Sir Henry
abruptly.
'I don't know.'
'She wants help badly. She passes your gate on her way to Fallerton.
She could pick you up, and bring you back.'
'Yes,' said Pamela. There was a pause.
'Well, good-bye, dear,' said Sir Henry again, and with a ceremonious
bow to Pamela's companion, he rode on--meditating on many things.
* * * * *
'The Squire's in, Sir Henry, but--well, he's very busy.


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