But the mere fact that Elizabeth should be
writing to him stirred intolerable resentment in the girl's
passionate heart. She knew very well that it was foolish,
unreasonable, but could no more help it than a love-smitten maiden
of old Sicily. It was her hour of possession, and she was struggling
with it blindly.
And Elizabeth, the shrewd and clever Elizabeth, saw nothing, and
knew nothing. If she had ever for a passing moment suspected the
possibility of 'an affair' between Arthur Chicksands and Pamela, she
had ceased to think of it. The eager projects with which her own
thoughts were teeming, had driven out the ordinary preoccupations of
womankind. Derelict farms, the food-production of the county,
timber, village reconstruction, war-work of various kinds, what time
was there left?--what room?--in a mind wrestling with a hundred new
experiences, for the guessing of a girl's riddle?
Yet all the same she remained her just and kindly self. She was
troubled--much troubled--by the twins' behaviour. She must somehow
get to the bottom of it.
Pages:
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318