A number of small
incidents--trifling acts and sayings of Elizabeth's--misinterpreted
and twisted by the girl's jealous pain, were poured into Desmond's
ears.
'All the servants know that she treats father like a baby. She and
Forest manage him in little things--in the house--just as she runs
the estate. For instance, she does just what she likes with the
fruit and the flowers--'
'Why, _you_ ought to do all that, Pam!'
'I tried when I came home from school. Father wouldn't let me do a
thing. But _she_ does just what she pleases. You can hear her and
Forest laughing over it. Oh, it's all right, of course. She sends
things to hospitals every week.'
'That was what you used to want.'
'I do want it--but--'
'You ought to have the doing of it?'
'Oh, I don't know. I'm away all day. But she might at least
_pretend_ to refer to him--or me--sometimes. It's the same in
everything. She twists father round her little finger; and you can
see all the time what she thinks--that there never was such a bad
landlord, or such a miserable, feckless crew as the rest of us,
before she came to put us straight!'
Desmond listened--partly resisting--but finally carried away.
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