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And now Miss Bremerton was to do the housekeeping, and to play tutor
and chaperon to her. Pamela resented both. If she was not to be
allowed to scrub in a hospital, she might at least have learnt some
housekeeping at home, for future use. As for the Greek lessons, it
was not easy for her to be positively rude to any one, but she
promised herself a good deal of passive resistance on that side. For
if nothing else was possible, she could always sew and knit for the
soldiers. Pamela was not very good at either, but they did something
to lessen the moral thirst in her.
Ah, there was the library door. Miss Bremerton coming out--perhaps
to propose a lesson! Pamela took to flight--noiseless and
rapid--among the bosky corners and walks of the old garden.
Elizabeth emerged, clearly perceiving a gleam of vanishing white in
the far distance. She sighed, but not at all sentimentally. 'It's
silly how she dislikes me,' she thought. 'I wonder what I can do!'
Then her eye was caught by the tea-table still standing out in the
golden dusk, which had now turned damp and chilly.


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