The others listened. Pamela became silent and pale. All the old
jealousy and misery of the autumn were alive in her once more. She
had looked forward for weeks to this meeting with Arthur Chicksands.
And for the first part of his visit she had been happy--before
Elizabeth came on the scene. Why should Elizabeth have all the
homage and the attention? She, too, was doing her best! She was
drudging every day as a V.A.D., washing crockery and scrubbing
floors; and this was the first afternoon off she had had for weeks.
Her limbs were dog-tired. But Arthur Chicksands never talked to
_her_--Pamela--in this tone of freedom and equality--with the whole
and not the half of his mind. 'I could hold my own,' she thought
bitterly, 'but he never gives me the chance! I suppose he despises
girls.'
As the hall clock struck half-past five, however, Elizabeth rose
from her seat, gathering up the papers she had brought in from the
office, and disappeared.
Arthur Chicksands looked at his watch. Beryl exclaimed:
'Oh, no, Arthur, not yet! Let's wait for Desmond!'
Pamela said perfunctorily--'No, please don't go! He'll be here
directly.
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