Her
own real interests had lain elsewhere; and her mind had been too
slow in developing to let her appreciate his fundamental difference
from other people.
At any rate her father's unpopularity had been lately acute, and
Pamela herself felt it bitterly, and shrank from her neighbours and
the cottage people. When Desmond came home with a D.S.O., or a
Victoria Cross, as of course he would, she supposed it would be all
right. But meanwhile not a single thing done for the war!--not a
_sou_ to the Red Cross, or to any war funds! And hundreds spent on
antiquities--thousands perhaps--getting them deeper and deeper into
debt. For she was quite aware that they were in debt; and her own
allowance was of the smallest. Two hundred and fifty a year, too,
for Miss Bremerton!--when they could barely afford to keep up the
garden decently, or repair the house. She knew it was two hundred
and fifty pounds. Her father was never reticent about such things,
and had named the figure at once.
'Why wasn't Miss Bremerton doing something for the war? _Greek_
indeed! when there was this fearful thing going on!' And in the
evening air, as the girl turned her face towards the moonrise, she
seemed to hear the booming of the Flanders guns.
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