'
'Condition No. 1,' said the Squire grimly, checking it off. 'Go on!'
'And--I should--perhaps--beg you to let Pamela do some V.A.D. work,
if she wants to.'
'Pamela is your affair!' said the Squire impatiently. 'If you stay
here, you are her chaperon, and, for the present, head of the
household.'
'Only just for the present--till Pamela can do it!' put in Elizabeth
hastily. 'But she's nineteen--she ought to take a part.'
'Well, don't bother me about that. You are responsible. I wash my
hands of her. Anything else?'
It did not do to think of Pamela's feelings, should she ever become
aware of how she was being handed over. But the mention of her, on a
sudden impulse, had been pure sympathy on Elizabeth's part; a wish
to strike on the girl's behalf while the iron was so very hot. She
looked up quietly.
'No, indeed there is nothing else--except indeed--that you won't
expect me to hide what I feel about the war--and the little we at
home can do to help--'
Her voice failed a little. The Squire said nothing.
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