D. work at Mannering
was just what was wanted at the moment from girls of her age--hadn't
she seen the appeals for V.A.D.'s? And also, if by anything she did
at home--or set others free for doing--she could help Captain Dell
and Miss Bremerton to pull the estate round, and get the maximum
amount of food out of it, she would be serving the country in the
best way possible.
'The last ounce of food, mind!--that's what it depends on,' he said,
smiling at her, 'which can stick it longest--they or we. You belong
to the land--ought you desert it?'
Pamela sat unmoved. She knew nothing about the land. Her father had
the new agent--and Miss Bremerton.
'Your sister there,' said Chicksands, nodding towards the front
drawing-room, where Strang and his wife were sitting Darby and Joan
over the fire discussing rations and food prices, 'thinks Miss
Bremerton already overdone.'
'I never saw the least sign of it!'
'But think!--your father never slackens his Greek work--and there is
all the rest.'
'I suppose if it's too much for her she'll give it up,' said Pamela
in her most obstinate voice.
Pages:
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338