Gaddesden--who, as Elizabeth had already discovered, was
constantly making rather greedy demands upon her father--on rations
according to her behaviour, to bring in her own poor mother and all
her needy relations--to reign supreme, in fact, over Mannering and
the county--nothing would be easier.
The only thing that stood in the way was that the Squire's secretary
happened to be a nice woman--and not an adventuress. Elizabeth's
sense of humour showed her the kind of lurid drama that Pamela no
doubt was concocting about her--perhaps with the help of Beryl--the
two little innocents! Elizabeth recalled the intriguing French
'companion' in _War and Peace_ who inveigles the old Squire. And as
for the mean and mercenary stepmothers of fiction, they can be
collected by the score. That, no doubt, was how Pamela thought of
her. So that, after her involuntary tears, Elizabeth ended in a
laughter that was half angry, half affectionate.
Poor children! She was not going to turn them out of their home. She
had written to Pamela during her absence with her mother, asking
again for an explanation of the wild and whirling things that Pamela
had said to her that night in the hall, and in return not a single
frank or penitent word!--only a few perfunctory enquiries after Mrs.
Pages:
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362