Mrs. Humphrey  Ward Elizabeth'S Campaign (Fiscle Part-X 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10 Chapter 1 Pg 1 
   
 'Remember, Slater, If I Am Detained, That I Am Expecting the     Two 
 Gentlemen From The     War Agricultural Committee At Six, And Captain 
 Mills Of     The     Red cross Is Coming to Dine And Sleep. Ask Lady 
 Chicksands To Look After Him In case I Am Late--And Put Those 
 Tribunal Papers In order For Me, By The     Way. I Really Must Go 
 Properly Into That Quaker Man'S Case--Horrid Nuisance! I Hope To Be 
 Back In a Couple Of     Hours, But I Can'T Be Sure. Hullo, Beryl! I 
 Thought You Were Out.' 
   
   
   
 The Speaker, Sir Henry Chicksands, Already Mounted on His Cob 
 Outside His Own Front Door, Turned from His Secretary, To Whom He 
   
 Had Been Giving these Directions, To See His Only Daughter Hurrying 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part10  Chapter 1 Pg 2 
 Through The     Inner Hall With The     Evident Intention Of     Catching her 
 Father Before He Rode Off. 
   
   
   
 She Ran Down The     Steps, But Instead Of     Speaking at Once She Began To 
 Stroke And Pat His Horse'S Neck, As Though Doubtful How To Put What 
 She Had To Say. 
   
   
   
 'Well, Beryl, What'S The     Matter?' Said Her Father Impatiently. The 
 Girl, Who Was Slender And Delicate In build, Raised her Face To His. 
   
   
   
 'Are You--Are You Really Going to Mannering, Father?' 
   
   
   
 'I Am--Worse Luck!' 
   
   
   
 'You'Ll Handle Him Gently, Won'T You?' There Was Anxiety In the 
 Girl'S Voice. 'But Of     Course You Will--I Know You Will.' 
   
   
   
 Chicksands Shrugged his Shoulders. 
   
   
   
 'I Shall Do My Best. But You Know As Well As I Do That He'S A Queer 
 Customer When It Comes To Anything connected with The     War.' 
   
   
   
 The Girl Looked behind Her To Make Sure That The     Old Butler Of     The 
 House Had Retired discreetly Out Of     Earshot. 
   
   
   
 'But He Can'T Quarrel With _You_, Father!' 
   
   
   
 'I Hope Not--For Your Sake.' 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 1 Pg 3 
 'Must You Really Tackle Him?' 
   
   
   
 'Well, I Thought I Was The     Person To Do It. It'S Quite Certain 
 Nobody Else Could Make Anything of     It.' 
   
   
   
 Privately Beryl Disagreed, But She Made No Comment. 
   
   
   
 'Aubrey Seems To Be Pretty Worried,' She Said, In a Depressed tone, 
 As She Turned away. 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T Wonder. He Should Have Brought Up His Father Better. Well, 
 Good-Bye, Dear. Don'T Bother Too Much.' 
   
   
   
 She Waved her Hand To Him As He Made Off, And Stood Watching him 
 From The     Steps--A Gentle, Attaching figure, Her Fair Hair And The 
 Pale Oval Of     Her Face Standing out Against The     Panelled hall Behind 
 Her. 
   
   
   
 Her Father Went His Way Down A Long Winding hill Beyond His Own 
 Grounds, Along A Country Road Lined with Magnificent Oaks, Through A 
 Village Where His Practised eye Noted several Bad Cottages With 
 Disapproval, Till Presently He Slackened his Horse'S Pace, As He 
 Passed an Ill-Looking farm About Half A Mile Beyond The     Village. 
   
   
   
 'Not A Decent Gate In the     Whole Place!' He Said To Himself With 
 Disgust. 'And The     Farm Buildings Only Fit For A Bonfire. High Time 
 Indeed that We Made Mannering sit Up!' 
   
   
   
 He Paused also To Look Over The     Neighbouring hedge At Some Fields 
 Literally Choked with Weeds. 
   
   
   
 'And As For Gregson--Lazy, Drunken Fellow! Why Didn'T He Set Some 
 Village Women On? Just See What They'Ve Done On My Place! Hullo, 
 Here He Is! Now I'M In for It!' For He Saw A Slouching man Coming 
   
 Rapidly Towards Him From The     Farmyard, With The     Evident Intention 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 1 Pg 4 
 Of Waylaying him. The     Man'S Shabby, Untidy Dress And Blotched 
 Complexion Did Not Escape Sir Henry'S Quick Eye. 'Seems To Have 
 Been Making a Night Of     It,' Was His Inward Comment. 
   
   
   
 'Good-Day, Sir Henry,' Said The     Farmer, Laying a Hand On Chicksands' 
 Bridle, 'I Wanted a Word With You, Sir. I Give You Fair Warning, You 
 And Your Committee, You'Ll Not Turn Me Out Without A Fight! I Was 
 Never Given No Proper Notice--And There Are Plenty As 'Ll Stand By 
 Me.' 
   
   
   
 The Voice Was Thick And Angry, And The     Hand Shook. Sir Henry Drew 
 His Horse Away, And The     Man'S Hold Dropped. 
   
   
   
 'Of Course You Had Every Notice,' Said Sir Henry Drily. 
   
   
   
 'I Hadn'T,' The     Man Persisted. 'If The     Letters As They Talk Of     Were 
 Sent, I Never Saw 'Em. And When The     Committee Came I Was Out--On 
 Business. Can'T A Man Be Out On His Lawful Business, Sir Henry, 
 Instead Of     Dancin' Attendance On Men As Know No Better Than He? The 
 Way This Government Is Doing things--You Might As Well Live Under 
 The Czar Of     Russia As In this Country. It'S No Country This For 
 Free Men Now, Sir Henry.' 
   
   
   
 'The Czar Of     Russia Has Come To Grief, My Man, For The     Same Reason 
 That You Have,' Said Sir Henry, Gathering up The     Reins, 'For 
 Shirking his Duty. All Very Well Before The     War, But Now We Can'T 
 Afford This Kind Of     Thing.' 
   
   
   
 'And So You'Ve Told The     Squire To Turn Me Out?' Said The     Man 
 Fiercely, His Hands On His Sides. 
   
   
   
 'You'Ve Had No Notice From Mr. Mannering yet?' 
   
   
   
 'Not A Word.' 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 1 Pg 5 
   
 'But You'Ve Heard From The     Inspection Committee?' 
   
   
   
 The Man Nodded. 
   
   
   
 'But It'S Not They As Can Turn Me Out, If The     Squire Don'T Agree.' 
   
   
   
 There Was A Note Of     Surly Defiance In his Voice. 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T Know About That,' Said Sir Henry, Whose Horse Was Getting 
 Restive. 'My Advice To You, Gregson, Is To Take It Quietly, Pull 
 Yourself Together, And Get Some Other Work. There'S Plenty Going 
 Nowadays.' 
   
   
   
 'Thank You For Nothing, Sir Henry. I'Ve Got Plenty To Advise 
 Me--People As I Set More Store By. I'Ve Got A Wife And Children, 
 Sir, And I Shan'T Give In without A Fuss--You May Be Sure Of     That. 
 Good-Day To You.' 
   
   
   
 Sir Henry Nodded to Him And Rode Off. 
   
   
   
 'He'Ll Go, Of     Course,' Reflected the     Rider. 'Our Powers Are Quite 
 Enough. But If I Can'T Get Mannering to Send The     Notice, It'Ll Be A 
 Deal More Trouble. Hullo, Here'S Some One Else! This Is Another Pair 
 Of Boots!' 
   
   
   
 He Had Scarcely Turned the     Corner Beyond The     Farm When Another Man 
 Came Running down The     Sloping field, Calling to Him. Sir Henry 
 Pulled up His Horse Again. But His Aspect Had Changed, And His Voice 
 Took Another Note. 
   
   
   
 'Did You Want To Speak To Me, Adam? A Nice Day, Isn'T It?' 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 1 Pg 6 
 'I Saw You, Sir Henry, From The     Top Of     The     Field, Talking to Gregson 
 In The     Road, And I Thought Perhaps You'D Let Me Have A Few Words 
 With You. You Know, Sir, This Is Awfully Hard Lines.' 
   
   
   
 Sir Henry Looked impatient, But The     Man Who Had Spoken To Him Was A 
 Fine Specimen Of     Young Manhood--Broad-Shouldered, Clear-Eyed, With A 
 Natural Dignity Of     Manner, Not At All A Person To Be Brushed aside. 
   
   
   
 'I'M Sure You Can'T Defend Gregson, Adam,' Said Sir Henry, 'You--One 
 Of The     Best Farmers In the     District! I Wish They Had Put You On The 
 Inspection Committee.' 
   
   
   
 'Well, They Didn'T,' Said The     Other, Perhaps With A Slight Emphasis. 
 'And There'S Many Of     Us Feel, I Can Assure You, As I Do. Gregson'S A 
 Poor Creature, But He Hasn'T Had Quite Fair Play, Sir Henry--That'S 
 What We Feel. And He'S Been Fifteen Years On His Place.' The     Man 
 Spoke Hesitatingly, But Strongly. There Was A Queer, Suppressed 
 Hostility In his Pleasant Blue Eyes. 
   
   
   
 'Fifteen Years Too Long,' Interrupted sir Henry. 'I Tell You, Adam, 
 We Can'T Afford Now To Let Men Like Gregson Spoil Good Land While 
 The Country'S Likely To Go Hungry! The     Old Happy-Go-Lucky Days Are 
 Done With. I Wonder Whether Even You Recognize That We'Re Fighting 
 For Our Lives?' 
   
   
   
 'I Know We Are, Sir Henry. But If The     War Makes Slaves Of     Us What 
 Good Will It Do If We Do Win It?' 
   
   
   
 Sir Henry Laughed. 'Well, Adam, You Were Always A Radical And I Was 
 Always A Conservative. And I Don'T Like Being managed any More Than 
 You Do. But Look At The     Way I'M Managed in my Business!--Harried up 
 And Down By A Parcel Of     Young Fellows From The     Ministry That Often 
 Seem To Me Fools! But We'Ve All Got To Come In. And This Country'S 
 Worth It!' 
   
   
   
 'You Know I'M With You There, Sir. But Why Don'T You Get At The 
   
 Squire Himself? What Good Have He Or His Agent Ever Been To Anybody? 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part10  Chapter 1 Pg 7 
 You'Re A Landlord Worth Living under; But--' 
   
   
   
 'Ah! Don'T Be In too Great A Hurry, Adam, And You'Ll See What You 
 Will See!' And With A Pleasant Salute, His Handsome Face Twitching 
 Between Frowns And Smiles, Sir Henry Rode On. 'What Trade Unionists 
 We All Are--High And Low! That Man'S As Good A Farmer As Gregson'S A 
 Vile One. But He Stands By His Like, As I Stand By Mine.' 
   
   
   
 Then His Thoughts Took A Different Turn. He Was Entering a Park, 
 Evidently Of     Wide Extent, And Finely Wooded. The     Road Through It Had 
 Long Fallen Out Of     Repair, And Was Largely Grass-Grown. A Few Sheep 
 Were Pasturing on It, And A Few Estate Cottages Showed here And 
 There. Sir Henry Looked about Him With Quick Eyes. He Understood 
 That The     Inspection Sub-Committee, Constituted under The     Corn 
 Production Act, And On The     Look-Out For Grass-Land To Put Under The 
 Plough, Had Recommended the     Ploughing up Of     All This Further End Of 
 Mannering park. It Carried very Few Sheep Under Its Present 
 Management; And The     Herd Of     Jersey Cattle That Used to Graze It Had 
 Long Since Died out. As For The     Game, It Had Almost Gone--Before The 
 War. No Use, Either For Business Or Play! 
   
   
   
 Then--On This Early Autumn Day Of     1917--Sir Henry Fell To Musing on 
 The Vast Changes Coming over England In consequence Of     The     War. 'Who 
 Would Ever Have Believed that We--_We_ Should Put Ourselves To 
 School As We Have Done? Military Service, Rations, Food-Prices, All 
 Our Businesses "Controlled," And Now Our Land Looked after! How Much 
 Of It Has Come To Stay? Well, It Won'T Affect Me Much! Ah! Is That 
 The Rector?' 
   
   
   
 For A Hundred yards Ahead Of     Him He Perceived a Clerical Figure, 
 Spare And Tall, In a Wideawake Hat, Swinging towards Him. The 
 September Sun Was Westering, And Behind The     Approaching man Lay 
 Broad Stretches Of     Wood, Just Showing here And There The     First 
 Bronze And Purple Signs Of     Autumn. 
   
   
   
 The Rector, Recognizing the     Solitary Rider, Waved his Hand In 
 Welcome, And Sir Henry Pulled up. The     Two Men, Who Were Evidently 
 Personal Friends, Exchanged greetings. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 1 Pg 8 
   
 'You'Re Going to The     Hall, Sir Henry?' Said The     Rector. 
   
   
   
 Sir Henry Described his Business. 
   
   
   
 The Rector Shook His Head Reflectively. 
   
   
   
 'You Haven'T Announced yourself, I Hope?' 
   
   
   
 'No, I Took That Simple Precaution. I Suppose He'S Already Pretty 
 Savage?' 
   
   
   
 'With Whom? The     Committee? Yes, You Won'T Find Him Easy To Deal 
 With. But Just At Present There'S A Distraction. His New Secretary 
 Arrived some Weeks Ago, And He Now Spends His Whole Time, From 
 Morning till Night, Dictating to Her And Showing her His Things.' 
   
   
   
 'Secretary? A Woman? Good Heavens! Who Is She?' 
   
   
   
 'A Great Swell, I Understand. Oxford First Class In mods, Second In 
 Greats. I'Ve Only Just Seen Her. A Striking-Looking person.' 
   
   
   
 'Why Isn'T She In france, Or Doing munition Work?' Growled sir 
 Henry. 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T Know. I Suppose She Has Her Reasons. She Seems Patriotic 
 Enough. But I'Ve Only Exchanged a Few Words With Her, At A Very 
 Hurried luncheon, At Which, By The     Way, There Was A Great Deal Too 
 Much To Eat. She And Pamela Disappeared directly Afterwards.' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, So Pamela'S At Home? What'S The     Name Of     The     New Woman? I 
 Suppose She'S To Chaperon Pamela?' 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part10  Chapter 1 Pg 9 
   
 'I Shouldn'T Wonder. Her Name Is Miss Bremerton.' 
   
   
   
 'Beryl Declares That Pamela Is Going to Be A Beauty--And Clever 
 Besides. She Used to Be A Jolly Child. But Then They Go To School 
 And Grow Up Quite Different. I'Ve Hardly Seen Her For A Year And A 
 Half.' 
   
   
   
 'Well, You'Ll Judge For Yourself. Good Luck To You! I Don'T Envy You 
 Your Job.' 
   
   
   
 'Good Lord, No! But You See I'M Chairman Of     This Blessed show, And 
 They All Fixed on Me To Bell The     Cat. We Want A Hundred acres Of     The 
 Park, A New Agent, Notices For Three Farmers, Etcetera!' 
   
   
   
 The Rector Whistled. 'I Shall Wait, On Tiptoe, To See What Happens! 
 What Are Your Powers?' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, Tremendous!' 
   
   
   
 'So You Have Him? Well, Good-Day.' 
   
   
   
 And The     Rector Was Passing on. But Sir Henry Stooped over His 
 Horse'S Neck--'As You Know, Perhaps, It Would Be Very Inconvenient 
 To My Poor Little Beryl If Mannering were To Make A Quarrel Of     It 
 With Me.' 
   
   
   
 'Ah, I Gathered that She And Aubrey Were Engaged,' Said The     Rector 
 Cordially. 'Best Congratulations! Has The     Squire Behaved well?' 
   
   
   
 'Moderately. He Declares He Has No Money To Give Them.' 
   
   
   
   
 'And Yet He Spent Eighteen Hundred pounds Last Week At That Christie 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 1 Pg 10 
 Sale!' Said The     Rector With A Laugh. 'And Now I Suppose The     New 
 Secretary Will Add Fuel To The     Flame. I Saw Pamela For A Minute 
 Alone, And She Said Miss Bremerton Was "Just As Much Gone On Greek 
 Things As Father," And They Were Like A Pair Of     Lunatics When The 
 New Vases Came Down.' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, Blow The     Secretary!' Said Sir Henry With Exasperation. 'And 
 Meanwhile His Daughters Can'T Get A Penny Out Of     Him For Any War 
 Purpose Whatever! Well, I Must Go On.' 
   
   
   
 They Parted, And Sir Henry Put His Cob Into A Sharp Trot Which 
 Soon Brought Him In sight Of     A Distant Building--Low And 
 Irregular--Surrounded by Trees, And By The     Wide Undulating slopes 
 Of The     Park. 
   
   
   
 'Dreadfully Ugly Place,' He Said To Himself, As The     House Grew 
 Plainer; 'Rebuilt At The     Worst Time, By A Man With No More Taste 
 Than A Broomstick. Still, He Was The     Sixteenth Owner, From Father To 
 Son. That'S Something.' 
   
   
   
 And He Fell To Thinking, With That Half-Ironic Depreciation Which He 
 Allowed to Himself, And Would Have Stood From No One Else, Of     His 
 Own Brand-New Georgian House, Built From The     Plans Of     A Famous 
 American Architect, Ten Years Before The     War, Out Of     The     Profits Of 
 An Abnormally Successful Year, And Furnished in what He Believed to 
 Be Faultless Taste By The     Best Professional Decorator He Could Find. 
   
   
   
 'Yet Compared to A Mannering, What Do I Mean To The     People Here? 
 You Scarcely Begin To Take Root In this Blessed country Under Half A 
 Century. Mannering is Exceedingly Unpopular; The     People Think Him A 
 Selfish Idler; But If He Chose He Could Whistle Them Back With A 
 Hundredth Part Of     The     Trouble It Would Take Me! And If Aubrey Wanted 
 To Go Into Parliament, He'D Probably Have His Pick Of     The     County 
 Divisions. Curious Fellow, Aubrey! I Wonder Exactly What Beryl Sees 
 In Him?' 
   
   
   
 His Daughter'S Prospects Were Not Indeed very Clear To A Mind That 
 Liked everything cut And Dried. Aubrey Mannering was The     Squire'S 
 Eldest Son; But The     Squire Was Not Rich, And Had Been For Years Past 
   
 Wasting his Money On Greek Antiquities, Which Seemed to His 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 1 Pg 11 
 Neighbours, Including sir Henry Chicksands, A Very Dubious 
 Investment. If Aubrey Should Want To Sell, Who Was Going to Buy Such 
 Things At High Prices After The     War? No Doubt Prices At 
 Christie'S--For Good Stuff--Had Been Keeping up Very Well. That Was 
 Because Of     War Profits. People Were Throwing money About Now. But 
 When The     War Industries Came To An End? And The     National Bills Had 
 To Be Paid? 
   
   
   
 'The Only Thing that Can'T Go Down Is Land,' Thought Sir Henry, With 
 The Cheerful Consciousness Of     A Man Who Had Steadily Year By Year 
 Increased what Had Originally Been A Very Modest Property To 
 Something like A Large Estate. 
   
   
   
 Mannering had Plenty Of     That Commodity. But How Far Had He Dipped 
 The Estate? It Must Be Heavily Mortgaged. By Decent Management 
 Anybody, No Doubt, Might Still Bring it Round. 'But Aubrey'S Not The 
 Man. And Since He Joined up At The     Beginning of     The     War The     Squire 
 Won'T Let Him Have A Voice In anything. And Now Desmond--By George, 
 The Twins Are Nineteen This Month!--Desmond'Ll Be Off Directly. And 
 Then His Father Will Be Madder Than Ever.' 
   
   
   
 By This Time The     Ugly House Was Near At Hand, And The     Thick Woods 
 Which Surrounded it Had Closed about The     Horse And Rider. 
   
   
   
 'Splendid Timber,' Thought Sir Henry, As He Rode Through It, 
 Measuring it With A Commercial Eye, 'But All Past Its Prime, And 
 Abominably Neglected.... Hullo! That Looks Like Pamela, And The     New 
 Woman--The Secretary!' 
   
   
   
 For Two Ladies Were Coming down The     Drive Towards Him, With A Big 
 White And Tan Collie Jumping round Them. One Of     Them, Very Tall And 
 Erect, Was Dressed in a Dark Coat And Skirt, Reasonably Short, A 
 Small Black Toque, And Brown Boots And Leggings. The     Close-Fitting 
 Coat Showed a Shapely But Quite Substantial Figure. She Carried a 
 Stick, And Walked with A Peculiarly Rapid And Certain Step. The 
 Young Girl Beside Her Seemed by Comparison A Child. She Wore A White 
 Dress, In keeping with The     Warm September Day, And With It A Dark 
 Blue Sports Coat, And A Shady Hat. Her Dress Only Just Passed her 
 Knees, And Beneath It The     Slender Legs And High Heels Drew Sir 
 Henry'S Disapproving eye. He Hated extravagance In anything. Beryl 
 Managed to Look Fashionable, Without Looking _Outré_, As Pamela Did. 
   
 But He Reined up To Greet Her With Ready Smiles. 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 1 Pg 12 
   
   
   
 'Well, Pamela, Jolly To See You At Home Again! My Word, You'Ve 
 Grown! Shall I Find Your Father In?' 
   
   
   
 'Yes, We Left Him In the     Library. May I Introduce Miss 
 Bremerton--Sir Henry Chicksands.' The     Girl Spoke With Hurried 
 Shyness, The     Quick Colour In her Cheeks. The     Lady Beside Her Bowed, 
 And Sir Henry Took Off His Hat. Each Surveyed the     Other. 'A 
 Strong-Minded female!' Thought Sir Henry, Who Was By No Means 
 Advanced in his Views Of     The     Other Sex. 
   
   
   
 'The Strong-Minded female,' However, Was Not, It Seemed, Of     The 
 Talkative Kind. She Remained quite Silent While Pamela And Sir Henry 
 Exchanged some Family Gossip, With Her Ungloved hand Caressing the 
 Nose Of     The     Collie, Who Was Pressing against Her With Intrusive 
 Friendliness. But Her Easy Self-Possession As Contrasted with 
 Pamela'S Nervousness Was All The     Time Making an Impression On Sir 
 Henry, As Was Also The     Fact Of     Her General Good Looks. Not A 
 Beauty--Not At All; But, As The     Rector Had Said, 'Striking.' 
   
   
   
 As For Pamela, What Was The     Matter With The     Child? Until Beryl'S 
 Name Was Mentioned, There Was Not A Smile To Be Got Out Of     Her. And 
 It Was A Very Fleeting one When It Came. Desmond'S Name Fared a 
 Little Better. At That The     Girl Did At Last Raise Her Beautiful 
 Eyes, Which Till Then She Had Hardly Allowed to Be Seen, And There 
 Was A Ray In them. 
   
   
   
 'He'S Here On Leave,' She Said; 'A Few Days. He'S Just Got His 
 Commission And Been Accepted for The     Artillery. He Goes Into Camp 
 Next Week. He Thinks He'Ll Be Out By January.' 
   
   
   
 'We Must Certainly Manage To See Him Before He Goes,' Said Sir Henry 
 Heartily. Then Turning to Miss Bremerton With The     Slightly 
 Over-Emphatic Civility Of     A Man Who Prides Himself On His Manners In 
 All Contingencies, He Asked her If She Was Already Acquainted with 
 The Mannering neighbourhood. 
   
   
   
 Miss Bremerton Replied that It Was Quite Unknown To Her. 'You'Ll 
   
 Admire Our Trees,' Said Sir Henry. 'They'Re Very Fine.' 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 1 Pg 13 
   
   
   
 'Are They?' Said The     Lady Rather Absently, Giving a Perfunctory 
 Glance To The     Woods Sloping away On Her Right Towards A Little 
 Stream Winding in the     Hollow. Sir Henry Felt A Slight Annoyance. He 
 Was A Good Fellow, And No More Touchy As To Personal Dignity Than 
 The Majority Of     Men Of     His Age And Class. But He Was Accustomed to 
 Be Treated with A Certain Deference, And In miss Bremerton'S Manner 
 There Was None Whatever. 
   
   
   
 'Well, Good-Bye, Pamela. I Mustn'T Miss Your Father. When Are You 
 Coming over To See Beryl?' 
   
   
   
 'How Am I To Get There?' Said The     Girl With A Sudden Laugh. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, I See, You'Ve Got No Petrol Allowance?' 
   
   
   
 'How Should We? Nobody'S Doing any War Work Here.' 
   
   
   
 There Was An Odd Note In the     Speaker'S Voice. 
   
   
   
 'Why Don'T You Join Beryl In her Canteen Work?' Said Sir Henry 
 Abruptly. 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T Know.' 
   
   
   
 'She Wants Help Badly. She Passes Your Gate On Her Way To Fallerton. 
 She Could Pick You Up, And Bring you Back.' 
   
   
   
 'Yes,' Said Pamela. There Was A Pause. 
   
   
   
   
 'Well, Good-Bye, Dear,' Said Sir Henry Again, And With A Ceremonious 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part10  Chapter 1 Pg 14 
 Bow To Pamela'S Companion, He Rode On--Meditating on Many Things. 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 'The Squire'S In, Sir Henry, But--Well, He'S Very Busy.' 
   
   
   
 'Never Mind, Forest. I Must See Him. Can You Find Some One To Take 
 My Horse Round?' 
   
   
   
 The Grey-Haired butler Looked perplexed. 
   
   
   
 'I'Ve Only Got My Own Small Boy, Sir Henry. There'S Two More Of     Our 
 Men Gone This Morning. I Don'T Know If You'Ll Trust Him. He'S A Good 
 Boy.' 
   
   
   
 'Send Him Along, Forest. My Beast'S A Lamb--You Know Him. But Look 
 Here, Forest'--Sir Henry Dismounted, Bridle In hand. 'Don'T Give The 
 Squire Notice That I'M Here, If You Can Help It, Till You Announce 
 Me.' 
   
   
   
 The Butler, Who, In spite Of     His Grey Hair, Was A Square-Set, 
 Vigorous-Looking fellow, Might Be Said, In reply, To Have Given The 
 Squire'S Visitor A Wink. At Any Rate A Look Of     Understanding passed 
 Between The     Two. The     Butler Went Quickly Back Into The     House, And 
 Re-Emerged with A Boy, Who Was The     Small Image Of     His Father, To 
 Whom Sir Henry Cheerfully Gave Up His Cob. But As Forest Led the     Way 
 Through The     Outer Hall He Stopped to Say: 
   
   
   
 'The Squire'S Not Alone, Sir. There Was A Gentleman Arrived just As 
 Miss Pamela Went Out. But I Don'T Think He'Ll Stay Long.' 
   
   
   
 'Who Is He?' 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part10  Chapter 1 Pg 15 
 'Can'T Say, Sir. He'S Lodging in the     Village, And Comes To See The 
 Squire'S Collections Sometimes.' 
   
   
   
 They Were Now In a Long Passage Running along The     Eastern Front Of 
 The House To A Large Room Which Had Been Added to Its Southern End, 
 In Order To Hold The     Squire'S Library And Collections. Midway The 
 Butler Turned. 
   
   
   
 'You'Ve Heard, Sir Henry, About Mr. Desmond?' 
   
   
   
 'Yes, Miss Pamela Told Me.' 
   
   
   
 'Mr. Desmond Says He'Ll Be In france By January. He'S As Pleased as 
 Possible, But It'S A Deal Sooner Than Mr. Mannering hoped.' 
   
   
   
 'Well, We'Ve All Got To Take Our Chance In this War,' Said Sir Henry 
 Gravely. 'And The     Artillery Is A Bit Safer Than The     Infantry. You 
 Know My Son Arthur'S A Gunner.' 
   
   
   
 'I Hope He'S All Right, Sir?' 
   
   
   
 'Well, He'S Still On Light Work. He Comes Home This Week For A Bit. 
 He Was Gassed at Ypres A Year And A Half Ago, And Had A Bullet Taken 
 Out Of     His Chest About Two Months Since. But He Is Nearly Fit 
 Again.' 
   
   
   
 The Butler Expressed his Sympathy With A Complete Absence Of     Shyness 
 Or Servility, Then Threw Open A Door At The     End Of     The     Passage, 
 Announcing, 'Sir Henry Chicksands, Sir.' 
   
   
   
 '_D-Mn_!' Said A Voice Loudly Within. 
   
   
   
   
 Sir Henry Gave An Involuntary Start. Another Look Passed between 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 1 Pg 16 
 Him And Forest, Amused or Interrogative On The     Visitor'S Part, 
 Non-Committal On The     Butler'S. 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 The Library Of     Mannering hall As Sir Henry Chicksands Entered it 
 Presented a Curious Spectacle. It Was A Long, Barn-Like Room, 
 Partly Lined with Books, And Partly With Glass Cases, In which 
 Greek Vases, Tanagra Figures, And Other Greek And Etruscan 
 Antiquities, All Carefully Marked and Labelled, Were Displayed. A 
 Few Large Tables Stood At Intervals On The     Shabby Carpet, Also 
 Laden With Books And Specimens. They Conveyed an Impression Of 
 Dust And Disorder, As Though No Housemaid Had Been Allowed to 
 Touch Them For Weeks--With One Exception. A Table, Smaller Than 
 The Rest, But Arranged with Scrupulous Neatness, Stood At One Side 
 Of The     Room, With A Typewriter Upon It, Certain Books, And A Rack 
 For Stationery. A Folded duster Lay At One Corner. Pens, Pencils, 
 A Box Of     Clips, And A Gum-Pot Stood Where A Careful Hand Had 
 Placed them. And At A Corner Corresponding to The     Duster Was A 
 Small Vase Of     Flowers--Autumnal Roses--The Only Flowers In the 
 Room. 
   
   
   
 But The     Various Untidy Accumulations, Most Of     Which Seemed to Be Of 
 Old Standing, Had Been Evidently Just Added to By Some Recent 
 Arrivals. Four Large Packing-Cases, Newly Opened, Took Up Much Of 
 What Free Space Was Left On The     Floor. The     Straw, Paper, And 
 Cottonwool, In which Their Contents Had Been Packed, Had Been Tossed 
 Out With A Careless Or Impatient Hand, And Littered the     Carpet. 
 Among The     Litter Stood Here And There Some Greek Vases Of     Different 
 Sizes; In particular, A Superb Pair, Covered with Figures; Beside 
 Which Stood The     Owner Of     Mannering, Talking to An Apparently Young 
 Man With An Eye-Glass, Who Was Sitting on The     Floor Closely 
 Examining the     Vases. The     Squire Turned a Furrowed brow Towards His 
 Approaching visitor, And Putting down A Small Bronze He Had Been 
 Holding raised a Warning hand. 
   
   
   
 'How Do You Do, Chicksands? Very Sorry, But I'M Much Too Filthy To 
 Touch. And I'M Horribly Busy! These Things Arrived last Night, And 
 Mr. Levasseur Has Kindly Come Over To Help Me Unpack Them. Don'T 
 Know If You'Ve Met Him. Mr. Levasseur--Sir Henry Chicksands.' 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 1 Pg 17 
   
 The Man On The     Floor Looked up Carelessly, Just Acknowledging sir 
 Henry'S Slight Inclination. Sir Henry'S Inner Mind Decided against 
 Him--At Once--Instinctively. What Was A Stout Fellow, Who At Any 
 Rate _Looked_ As Though He Were Still Of     Military Age, Doing with 
 Nonsense Of     This Sort, At Four O'Clock In the     Day, When England 
 Wanted every Able-Bodied man She Possessed, Either To Fight For Her 
 Or To Work For Her? At The     Same Time The     Reflection Passed rapidly 
 Through His Mind That Neither The     Man Nor The     Name Had Come Up--So 
 Far As He Could Remember--Before The     County Tribunal Of     Which He Was 
 Chairman. 
   
   
   
 'Well, Chicksands, What Do You Want With Me?' Said The     Squire 
 Abruptly. 'Will You Take A Chair?' And He Pointed to One From Which 
 He Hastily Removed a Coat. 
   
   
   
 'I Have Some Confidential Business To Talk To You About,' Said Sir 
 Henry, With A Look At The     Dusty Gentleman Among The     Straw. 
   
   
   
 'Something you Want Me To Do That I'Ll Be Bound I Shan'T Want To Do! 
 Is That It?' Said Mannering with Vivacity. 
   
   
   
 He Stood With His Hands On A Table Behind Him, His Long Spare Frame 
 In A Nervous Fidget, His Eyes Bright And Hostile, And A Spot Of     Red 
 On Either Thin Cheek. Beside Chicksands, Who Was Of     Middle Height, 
 Solidly Built, And Moderately Stout, With Mental And Physical 
 Competence Written All Over Him, The     Squire Of     Mannering seemed but 
 The Snippet Of     A Man. He Was Singularly Thin, With A Slender Neck, 
 And A Small Head Covered with Thick Hair, Prematurely White, Which 
 Tumbled over His Forehead And Eyes. He Had The     Complexion Of     A Girl, 
 Disproportionately Large Nose, Very Sharply And Delicately Cut As To 
 Bridge And Nostril, And A Mouth And Chin Which Seemed to Be In 
 Perpetual Movement. He Looked older Than Sir Henry, Who Was Verging 
 On Sixty, But He Was In fact Just Over Fifty. 
   
   
   
 Sir Henry Smiled a Little At The     Tone Of     The     Squire'S Question, But 
 He Answered good-Humouredly. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part10 Chapter 1 Pg 18 
   
   
 'I Believe, When We'Ve Talked it Over, You Won'T Think It 
 Unreasonable. But I'Ve Come To Explain.' 
   
   
   
 'I Know, You Want Me To Give Gregson Notice. But I Warn You I'M Not 
 The Least Inclined to Do Anything of     The     Kind.' And The     Speaker 
 Crossed his Arms, Which Were Very Long And Thin, Over A Narrow 
 Chest, While His Eyes Restlessly Countered those Of     Sir Henry. 
   
   
   
 Chicksands Paused a Moment Before Replying. 
   
   
   
 'I Have A Good Many Papers Here To Show You,' He Said At Last, 
 Mildly, Drawing a Large Envelope Half-Way From The     Inner Pocket Of 
 His Coat To Illustrate His Words, And Then Putting it Back Again. 
 'But I Really Can'T Discuss Them Except With Yourself.' 
   
   
   
 The Squire'S Eyes Shot Battle. 
   
   
   
 'It'S The     War, Of     Course,' He Said With Emphasis; 'It'S All The     War. 
 I'M Told To Do Things I Don'T Want To Do, Which Affect My Personal 
 Freedom, And Other People'S, Because Of     A War I Don'T Believe In, 
 Never Asked for, And Don'T Approve Of. Here'S Levasseur Now, A 
 Clever Fellow, Cleverer Than Either You Or Me, Chicksands, And He'S 
 No More Patriotic Than I Am. You Talk To Him!' 
   
   
   
 'Thank You, I'M Too Busy,' Said Sir Henry Sharply, His Face 
 Stiffening. 'Where Can You See Me, Mannering? I'M Rather Pressed for 
 Time. Is The     Smoking-Room Free?' And With A Marked avoidance Of     Any 
 Concern With The     Gentleman On The     Floor, Who Had By Now Risen To His 
 Feet, Sir Henry Made An Impatient Movement Towards A Door At The 
 Further End Of     The     Library Which Stood Ajar. 
   
   
   
 Levasseur Looked amused. He Was A Strongly-Built, Smooth-Shaven 
 Fellow, With Rather Long Hair, And The     Sallow Look Of     The 
   
 Cigarette-Smoker. His Eyes Were Sleepy, His Expression Indolent Or 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part10  Chapter 1 Pg 19 
 Good-Natured. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, I'Ll Make Myself Scarce With The     Greatest Pleasure,' He Said 
 Civilly. 'I Can Stroll About The     Park Till You'Re Ready For Me 
 Again,' He Added, Turning to The     Squire. 'Lovely Day--I'Ll Take A 
 Book And Some Cigarettes.' And Diving into An Open Box Which Stood 
 Near He Filled his Cigarette-Case From It, And Then Looked round Him 
 For A Book. 'Where'S That Copy Of     The     _Anthology_? That'Ll Do 
 Nicely.' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Burst Into A Laugh, Observing sir Henry. 
   
   
   
 'He'S Over Military Age, Chicksands.' 
   
   
   
 'I Suppose So,' Said Sir Henry Stiffly. 
   
   
   
 'But Only By Six Months, When The     Act Passed. So He'S _Just_ Escaped 
 You.' 
   
   
   
 'I'Ve Really No Concern Whatever With Mr. Levasseur'S Affairs.' Sir 
 Henry Had Flushed angrily. 'Is It To Be Here, Or The     Smoking-Room?' 
   
   
   
 'Ta-Ta! See You Again Presently,' Said Levasseur. 'Ah, There'S The 
 Book!' And Diving to The     Floor For A Hat And A Book Lying beside It, 
 He Made Off, Lighting a Cigarette, With A Laughing backward Glance 
 Towards The     Squire And His Companion. 
   
   
   
 'Well, Now, What Is It?' Said Mannering, Throwing himself With An 
 Air Of     Resignation Into A Low Arm-Chair, And Taking out A Pipe. 
 'Won'T You Smoke, Chicksands?' 
   
   
   
 'Thank You, I'Ve Had My Morning'S Allowance. Hullo! Who Did That? 
 What An Awfully Fine Thing!' 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 1 Pg 20 
 For Suddenly, Behind The     Squire'S Head, Chicksands Had Become Aware 
 Of An Easel, And On It A Charcoal Sketch, Life-Size, Of     A Boy, Who 
 Seemed about Eighteen Or Nineteen, In cricketing dress. 
   
   
   
 The Squire Looked round. 
   
   
   
 'What, That Sketch Of     Desmond? Haven'T You Seen It? Yes, It'S Jolly 
 Good. I Got Orpen To Do It In july.' 
   
   
   
 Now That Sir Henry Had Once Perceived the     Drawing it Seemed to Him 
 To Light Up The     Whole Place. The     Dress Was The     Dress Of     The     Eton 
 Eleven; There Was Just A Suggestion Of     Pale Blue In the     Sash Round 
 The Waist. But The     Whole Impression Was Greek In its Manly Freedom 
 And Beauty; Above All In its Sacrifice Of     All Useless Detail To One 
 Broad And Simple Effect. Youth, Eager, Strong, Self-Confident, With 
 Its Innocent Parted lips, And Its Steadfast Eyes Looking out Over 
 The Future--The Drawing stood There As The     Quintessence, The 
 Embodiment, Of     A Whole Generation. So Might The     Young Odysseus Have 
 Looked when He Left His Mother On His First Journey To Hunt The     Boar 
 With His Kinsfolk On Mount Parnassus. And With Such An Air Had 
 Hundreds Of     Thousands Of     English Boys Gone Out On A Deadlier Venture 
 Since The     Great War Began, With A Like Intensity Of     Will, A Like 
 Merry Scorn Of     Fate. 
   
   
   
 Sir Henry Was Conscious Of     A Lump In his Throat. He Had Lost His 
 Youngest Son In the     Retreat From Mons, And Two Nephews On The     Somme. 
   
   
   
 'It'S Wonderful,' He Said, Not Very Clearly. 'I Envy You Such A 
 Possession.' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Made No Reply. He Sat With His Long Body Hunched up In 
 The Deep Chair, A Pair Of     Brooding eyes Fixed on His Visitor. 
   
   
   
 'Well, What Is It?' He Said Again, In a Voice That Was Barely Civil. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 2 Pg 21 
   
 Sir Henry Had Been Talking some Time. The     Squire Had Not Interrupted 
 Him Much, But The     Papers Which Sir Henry Had Presented to Him From 
 Time To Time--Government Communications, Committee Reports, And The 
 Like--Were Mostly Lying on The     Floor, Where, After A Perfunctory 
 Glance At Them, He Had Very Quickly Dropped them. 
   
   
   
 'Well, That'S Our Case,' Said Sir Henry At Last, Thrusting his Hands 
 Into His Pockets And Leaning back In his Chair, 'And I Assure You 
 We'Ve Taken A Great Deal Of     Trouble About It. We Shouldn'T Ask You 
 Or Anybody Else To Do These Things If It Wasn'T Vitally Necessary 
 For The     Food-Supply Of     The     Country. But We'Re Going to Have A Narrow 
 Squeak For It Next Spring and Summer, And We _Must_ Get More Food 
 Out Of     The     Land.' 
   
   
   
 Whereupon, In a Manner Rather Provokingly Reminiscent Of     A Public 
 Meeting, Sir Henry Fell Into A Discourse On Submarines, Tonnage, The 
 Food Needs Of     Our Allies, And The     Absolute Necessity For Undoing and 
 Repairing the     Havoc Of     Cobdenism--Matters Of     Which The     Newspapers Of 
 The Day Were Commonly Full. That The     Sound Of     His Own Voice Was 
 Agreeable To Him Might Have Been Suspected. 
   
   
   
 Mr. Mannering roughly Broke In upon Him. 
   
   
   
 'What Was That You Said About Ploughing up The     Park?' 
   
   
   
 'We Ask You To Break Up Fifty Acres Of     It Near The     Fallerton End, 
 And Perhaps Some Other Bits Elsewhere. This First Bit Is So Far 
   
 From The     House You'Ll Never Notice It; And The     Land Ought To Do Very 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 2 Pg 22 
 Well If It'S Properly Broken And Trampled down.' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Sat Up And Began To Tick Things Off On The     Fingers Of     His 
 Left Hand. 
   
   
   
 'Let Me Understand. You Want Me To Give Three Of     My Farmers Notice 
 To Quit--Gregson First Of     All--For Bad Farming; You Ask Me To Plough 
 Up Fifty Acres Of     My Park; And You Have The     Goodness To Suggest That 
 I Should Cut Some Of     My Woods.' 
   
   
   
 Sir Henry Realized that Possibly A Strain On His Temper Was Coming, 
 But He Felt Sure He Could Stand It. 
   
   
   
 'That Is What We Suggest--For Your Own Advantage And The     Country'S.' 
   
   
   
 'And Pray Who Are "_We_"? I Don'T Yet Understand That Clearly.' 
   
   
   
 '"We,"' Said Sir Henry Patiently, 'Are The     County War Agricultural 
 Committee, Formed for The     Express Purpose Of     Getting more Food Out 
 Of The     Land, And So Making these Islands Self-Supporting.' 
   
   
   
 'And If I Refuse, What Can You Do?' 
   
   
   
 'Well, I'M Afraid,' Said Sir Henry, Smiling uncomfortably, 'We Can 
 Act Without You.' 
   
   
   
 'You Can Turn Out My Farmers, And Plough My Land, As You Please?' 
   
   
   
 'Our Powers Are Very Wide.' 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 2 Pg 23 
 Well If It'S Properly Broken And Trampled down.' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Sat Up And Began To Tick Things Off On The     Fingers Of     His 
 Left Hand. 
   
   
   
 'Let Me Understand. You Want Me To Give Three Of     My Farmers Notice 
 To Quit--Gregson First Of     All--For Bad Farming; You Ask Me To Plough 
 Up Fifty Acres Of     My Park; And You Have The     Goodness To Suggest That 
 I Should Cut Some Of     My Woods.' 
   
   
   
 Sir Henry Realized that Possibly A Strain On His Temper Was Coming, 
 But He Felt Sure He Could Stand It. 
   
   
   
 'That Is What We Suggest--For Your Own Advantage And The     Country'S.' 
   
   
   
 'And Pray Who Are "_We_"? I Don'T Yet Understand That Clearly.' 
   
   
   
 '"We,"' Said Sir Henry Patiently, 'Are The     County War Agricultural 
 Committee, Formed for The     Express Purpose Of     Getting more Food Out 
 Of The     Land, And So Making these Islands Self-Supporting.' 
   
   
   
 'And If I Refuse, What Can You Do?' 
   
   
   
 'Well, I'M Afraid,' Said Sir Henry, Smiling uncomfortably, 'We Can 
 Act Without You.' 
   
   
   
 'You Can Turn Out My Farmers, And Plough My Land, As You Please?' 
   
   
   
 'Our Powers Are Very Wide.' 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 2 Pg 24 
   
 'Under--What Do You Call The     Beastly Thing?--"Dora"--The Defence Of 
 The Realm Act?' 
   
   
   
 Sir Henry Nodded. 
   
   
   
 The Squire Rose And Began To Pace Up And Down, His Hands Under His 
 Coat-Tails, His Long Spider Legs And Small Feet Picking their Way In 
 And Out Of     The     Piles And Boxes On The     Floor. At Last He Turned 
 Impetuously. 
   
   
   
 'Look Here, Chicksands, I Shall Not Give That Man Warning!' 
   
   
   
 Sir Henry Surveyed the     Lanky Figure Standing opposite To Him. 
   
   
   
 'I Should Be Very Sorry, Mannering, To See You Take That Course,' He 
 Said, Smiling and Amiable As Before. 'In Some Ways, Of     Course, I Am 
 No More In love With Some Of     The     Government'S Proceedings Than You 
 Are. We Landlords May Have To Defend Ourselves. I Want, If I May Say 
 So, To Keep Your Influence Intact For The     Things That Really Matter. 
 You And I, And All The     Other Brookshire Landlords, May Have, At Some 
 Point, To Act Together. But We Shall Resist Unreasonable Demands 
 Much More Easily If We Accept The     Reasonable Ones.' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Shook His Head. The     Suave Tone Of     The     Speaker Had Clearly 
 Begun To Rasp His Nerves. 
   
   
   
 'No! You And I Have Really Nothing in common. You May Take It From 
 Me That I Shall Not Give These Men Notice. What Happens Then?' 
   
   
   
 'The Government Steps In,' Said Sir Henry Quietly. 
   
   
   
   
 'And Turns Them Out? Very Well, Let Them. And The     Park?' 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 2 Pg 25 
   
   
 'We Are, Of     Course, Most Anxious To Consult You.' 
   
   
   
 'Excuse Me, That'S Nonsense! I Refuse--That'S Flat.' 
   
   
   
 Sir Henry Shrugged his Shoulders. His Tone Became A Trifle Colder. 
   
   
   
 'I Can'T Believe That You Will Refuse. You Can'T Deny--No Sensible 
 Man Could--That We'Ve Simply Got To Grow More Food At Home. The 
 Submarines Have Settled that For Us.' 
   
   
   
 'Who Brought The     Submarines Upon Us? The     Politicians! No 
 Politicians, No War! If It Hadn'T Been For A Pack Of     Idiots Called 
 Diplomats Making mischief Abroad, And A Pack Of     Incompetents Called 
 Politicians Unable To Keep Their Heads At Home, There'D Have Been No 
 War. It'S Russia'S War--France'S War! Who Asked the     Country Whether 
 It Wanted a War? Who Asked _Me_?' The     Squire, Standing opposite To 
 Sir Henry, Tapped his Chest Vehemently. 
   
   
   
 'The Country Is Behind The     War,' Said Chicksands Firmly. 
   
   
   
 'How Do We Know? How Do You Know? I'Ve As Much Right To An Opinion 
 As You, And I Tell You The     Country Is Sick And Tired of     The     War. We 
 Are All Dying of     The     War! We Shall All Be Paupers Because Of     The 
 War! What Is France To Me, Or Belgium? We Shall Have Lost Men, 
 Money, Security--Half The     Things That Make Life Worth Living--For 
 What?' 
   
   
   
 'Honour!' Said Sir Henry Sharply, As He Got On His Feet. 
   
   
   
 '_Honour_!' Sneered mannering--'What'S Honour? It Means One Thing to 
 Me And Another To You. Aubrey Bangs Me Over The     Head With It. But 
 I'M Like The     Doctor In the     Punch And Judy Show--He Thinks He'S 
   
 Knocked me Flat. He Hasn'T. I'Ve A New Argument Every Time He Comes. 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 2 Pg 26 
 And As For My Daughters, They Think Me A Lunatic--A Stingy Lunatic 
 Besides--Because I Won'T Give To Their Red cross Shows And Bazaars. 
 I'Ve Nothing to Give. The     Income Tax Gentlemen Have Taken Care Of 
 That.' 
   
   
   
 'Yet You Spend On This Kind Of     Thing!' Sir Henry Pointed to The 
 Vases. He Had Grown A Little White. 
   
   
   
 'Of Course I Can. That'S Permanent. That'S Something to Mend The 
 Holes That The     Soldiers And The     Politicians Are Making. When The 
 War'S Become A Nightmare That Nobody Wants To Remember, Those Little 
 Things'--He Pointed to A Group Of     Greek Bronzes And Terra-Cottas On 
 A Table Near--'Will Still Be The     Treasures Of     The     World!' 
   
   
   
 In The     Yeasty Deep Of     Sir Henry'S Honest Mind Emotions Were Rising 
 Which He Knew Now He Should Not Long Be Able To Control. He Took Up 
 His Hat And Stick. 
   
   
   
 'I'M Sorry, Mannering, That I Have Not Been Able To Convince You. 
 I'M Sorry For Your Point Of     View--And I'M Sorry For Your Sons.' 
   
   
   
 The Words Slipped out Of     His Mouth Before He Knew. 
   
   
   
 The Squire Bounded. 
   
   
   
 'My Sons! The     One'S A Fire-Eater, With Whom You Can'T Argue. The 
 Other'S A Child--A Babe--Whom The     Government Proposes To Murder 
 Before He Has Begun To Live.' 
   
   
   
 Sir Henry Looked at The     Speaker, Who Had Been Violently Flushed a 
 Minute Earlier, And Was Now As Pale As Himself, And Then At The 
 Sketch Of     Desmond, Just Behind The     Squire. His Eyes Dropped; The 
 Hurry In his Blood Subsided. 
   
   
   
   
 'Well, Good-Bye, Mannering. I'Ll--I'Ll Do What I Can To Make Things 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 2 Pg 27 
 Easy For You.' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Laughed angrily. 
   
   
   
 'You'Ll Put On The     Screws Politely? Thank You? But Still It Will Be 
 _You_ Who'Ll Be Putting the     Screw On, Who'Ll Be Turning out My 
 Farmers, And Ploughing up My Land, And Cutting down My Trees. 
 Doesn'T It Strike You That--Well, That--Under The     Circumstances--It 
 Will Be Rather Difficult For Aubrey And Beryl To Keep Up Their 
 Engagement?' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Was Sitting on The     Edge Of     The     Table, His Thin Legs 
 Crossed, His Thumbs In his Waistcoat Pockets. Sir Henry Coloured 
 Hotly. 
   
   
   
 'You Gave Your Consent To Their Engagement, Mannering.' 
   
   
   
 'Yes, But I Propose To Withdraw It,' Said The     Squire Coolly. 
   
   
   
 Sir Henry'S Indignation Kept Him Cool Also. 
   
   
   
 'You Can'T Play Ducks And Drakes With Young People'S Lives Like 
 That. Even You Can'T Do That.' 
   
   
   
 'I Can. I Can Withdraw My Consent.' 
   
   
   
 'Because You Mean To Fight The     County War Committee, Of     Which I Am 
 Chairman?' 
   
   
   
 'Precisely. The     Situation Is Too Difficult,' Said The     Squire With 
 Sparkling eyes. 'The Young People Will No Doubt See It For 
   
 Themselves.' 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 2 Pg 28 
   
   
   
 'Pshaw! Nonsense!' Cried sir Henry, Finally Losing his Temper. 
 'Aubrey Is Long Since Of     Age And His Own Master.' 
   
   
   
 'Perhaps, But He Is An Extravagant Fellow, Who Likes Money And 
 Spends It. And If He Is His Own Master, I Am The     Master Of     The 
 Estate; There Is No Entail.' 
   
   
   
 Chicksands Laughed aloud. 
   
   
   
 'So Because I Come On A Mission To Try And Save You Friction And 
 Trouble, You Are Going to Avenge Yourself On Your Son And My 
 Daughter?' 
   
   
   
 'I Merely Point Out The     Properties,' Said The     Squire Provokingly, 
 His Legs Dangling. 
   
   
   
 There Was A Pause. Sir Henry Broke It With Dignity, As He Turned 
 Away. 
   
   
   
 'I Think We Had Better Break Off This Discussion. I Cannot--I Do 
 Not--Believe You Will Carry Out What You Say. But If You Do, I Shall 
 Stand By The     Young People.' 
   
   
   
 'No Doubt!' Said The     Squire, Who Seemed to Bristle From Head To 
 Foot. 'Well, Good-Bye, Sir Henry. Sorry Your Visit Has Not Been More 
 Agreeable. Forest Will Look After You.' And Ringing the     Bell 
 Vehemently As He Passed the     Fireplace, The     Squire Walked rapidly To 
 The Door And Threw It Open. 
   
   
   
 Chicksands Passed through It, Speechless With Indignation And, If 
 The Truth Were Told, Bewilderment. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 2 Pg 29 
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 The Squire Shut The     Door Upon His Adversary, And Then, With His 
 Hands On His Sides, Exploded in a Fit Of     Laughter. 
   
   
   
 'I Always Knew I Must Be Rude To The     Old Boy Some Time,' He Said, 
 With The     Glee Of     A Mischievous Child. 'But, Ye Gods, How His 
 Feathers Drooped! He Looked like A Plucked cockatoo As He Went Out.' 
   
   
   
 He Stood Thinking a Moment, And Then With A Look Of     Sudden 
 Determination He Went To His Writing-Table And Sat Down To It. 
 Drawing a Writing-Pad Towards Him, He Wrote As Follows: 
   
   
   
      'My Dear Aubrey--Your Future Father-In-Law Has Just Been 
      Insulting and Harrying me In ways Which No Civilized state Had 
      Ever Heard Of     Before The     War. He Is The     Chairman Of     A 
      Ridiculous Body That Calls Itself The     County War Agricultural 
      Committee, That Lays Absurd Eggs In the     Shape Of     Sub-Committees 
      To Vex Landlords. They Have Been Going about Among My Farmers 
      And Want Me To Turn Out Three Of     Them. I Decline, So I Suppose 
      They'Ll Do It For Me. And They'Re Going to Plough Up A Lot Of 
      The     Park--Without My Leave. And Chicksands Is The     Head And 
      Front Of     The     Whole Business. He Came Here To-Day To Try And 
      Coax Me Into Submission. But I Would Neither Be Coaxed nor 
      Bullied. I'Ve Broken With Him; And If My Children Stand By Me 
      Properly, They'Ll Break With Him Too. I Really Don'T See How 
      You'Re Going to Marry Beryl After This. At Least, I Shall 
      Certainly Not Help You To Do It, And If You Defy Me You Must 
      Take The     Consequences. The     Whole World'S Gone Mad. My Only 
      Consolation Is That I Have Just Got Some New Greek Things, And 
      That Levasseur'S Helping me Unpack Them. However, It'S No Good 
      Talking to You About Them. You Wasted all Your Time At 
      Cambridge, And I Doubt Whether You Could Construe A Bit Of 
      Euripides To Save Your Life. 
   
   
   
      'Of Course If You Want To Talk This Over, You Had Better Run 
      Down. I Have Got A New Secretary--Came Here Six Weeks Ago--A 
      Topping young Woman--Who Reads Greek Like A Bird. But Her 
      Quantities Are Not Always What They Should Be. Good-Bye.--Your 
      Affectionate Father, 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 2 Pg 30 
   
      'Edmund Mannering.' 
   
   
   
 Having finished the     Epistle He Read It Over With A Complacent 
 Countenance, Put It Up And Stamped it. Then He Looked at His Watch. 
   
   
   
 'What A Long Time That Young Woman'S Been Away! I Told Her To Take 
 Two Hours Off, But Of     Course I Didn'T Mean It. That Was Just My 
 Excessive Politeness. D-Mn My Politeness. It'S Always Getting in my 
 Way. I Forget That Women Are Naturally Lazy. I Daresay She Was A Bit 
 Fagged. But If She'S Interested in her Work, What Does That Matter? 
 I Wonder Whether She'S Looked out All These References?' 
   
   
   
 And Walking over To The     One Neat Table In the     Room He Surveyed it. 
 There Were Some Sheets Lying on It Mostly Covered with An Excellent 
 Greek Script, Which He Turned over. Suddenly He Swooped on One Of 
 Them. 
   
   
   
 'Hullo! That Line'S Wrong. Won'T Scan. Trusted to Her Memory, I 
 Suppose. Didn'T Look It Up. And Yesterday I Caught Her Out In her 
 Accents. Women Play The     Devil With Accents. But She Writes A Pretty 
 Greek. Eh? What?' For He Had Become Aware Of     The     Re-Entry Of 
 Levasseur, Who Was Standing at His Elbow. 
   
   
   
 ''Fraid I Can'T Stay Now,' Said That Person. 'I'Ve Promised to Pick 
 Up Some Wounded at The     Station To-Night.' 
   
   
   
 'You--Wounded!--What Do You Mean?' Said The     Squire, Turning upon 
 Him. 
   
   
   
 Levasseur'S Large, Thin-Lipped mouth Showed what Seemed an Habitual 
 Grin. 
   
   
   
 'I'D Been Getting so Unpopular, It Was Becoming a Nuisance. Line Of 
 Least Resistance, You Understand. Now Everybody'S Quite Civil Again. 
 And I Like Chauffing.' 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 2 Pg 31 
   
   
 'A Mere Bit Of     Weakness!' Grumbled the     Squire. 'Either You Keep Out 
 Of The     War, Or You Go Into It. You'D Better Go Off To A Camp Now, 
 And Get Trained--And Shot--As Quickly As Possible--Get Done With 
 It.' 
   
   
   
 'Oh No,' Laughed the     Other. 'I'M All For Middle Courses. If They'Ll 
 Let Me Go On With My Book, I Don'T Mind Driving a Few Poor Fellows 
 Now And Then!' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Looked at Him Critically. 
   
   
   
 'The Fact Is You'Re Too Well Fed, Levasseur, Or You Look It. That 
 Annoys People. Now I Might Gorge For A Month, And Shouldn'T Put On A 
 Pound.' 
   
   
   
 'I Suppose Your Household Is Rationed?' 
   
   
   
 'Not It! We Eat What We Want. Just Like The     Labourers. I Found An 
 Old Labourer Eating his Dinner Under A Hedge Yesterday. Half A Pound 
 Of Bread At The     Very Least, And He Gets As Much For His Supper, And 
 Nearly As Much For His Breakfast. "I Shall Eat It, Squire, As Long 
 As I Can Get It. There'S Nowt Else _Packs_ Ye Like Bread." And Quite 
 Right Too. Good Word "Pack."' 
   
   
   
 'What'Ll He Do When He Can'T Get It?' Laughed levasseur, Taking up 
 His Hat. 
   
   
   
 'Stuff! This Food Business Is All One Big _Blague_. Anyway The 
 Government Got Us Into The     War; They'Re Jolly Well Bound To Feed us 
 Through It. They Will, For Their Own Necks' Sake. Well, Good-Night.' 
   
   
   
 Levasseur Nodded in response, With The     Same Silent, Aimless Grin, 
 And Disappeared through The     Garden Door Of     The     Library. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 2 Pg 32 
   
 'Queer Fellow!' Thought The     Squire. 'But He'S Useful. I Shall Get 
 Him To Help Catalogue These Things As He Did The     Others. Ah, There 
 You Are!' 
   
   
   
 He Turned with A Reproachful Air As The     Door Opened. 
   
   
   
 The Westerly Sun Was Coming strongly Into The     Library, And Shone 
 Full On The     Face And Figure Of     The     Squire'S New Secretary As She 
 Stood In the     Door-Way. He Expected an Apology For An Absence Just 
 Five Minutes Over The     Two Hours; But She Offered none. 
   
   
   
 'Pamela Asked me To Tell You, Mr. Mannering, That Tea Was Ready 
 Under The     Verandah.' 
   
   
   
 'Afternoon Tea Is An Abominable Waste Of     Time!' Said The     Squire 
 Discontentedly, Facing her With A Greek Pot Under Each Arm. 
   
   
   
 'Do You Think So? To Me It'S Always The     Pleasantest Meal In the 
 Day.' 
   
   
   
 The Voice Was Musical And Attractive, But Its Complete 
 Self-Possession Produced a Vague Irritation In the     Squire. With His 
 Two Former Secretaries, A Cambridge Man And A Spectacled maiden 
 With A London University Degree, He Had Been Accustomed to Play The 
 Tyrant As Must As He Pleased. Something had Told Him From The     Very 
 Beginning that He Would Not Be Able To Tyrannize Over This Newcomer. 
   
   
   
 But His Quick Masterful Temper Was Already Trying to Devise Ways Of 
 Putting her Down. He Beckoned her Towards The     Table Where She Had 
 Left Her Work, And She Went Obediently. 
   
   
   
 'You'Ve Got That Line Wrong.' He Pointed to A Quotation From The 
 _Odyssey_. 'Read It, Please!' 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 2 Pg 33 
 She Read It. He Stopped her Triumphantly. 
   
   
   
 'No, No, You Can'T Make That Long!' He Pointed to One Of     The     Greek 
 Words. 
   
   
   
 Her Fair Skin Flushed. 
   
   
   
 'But Indeed you Can!' She Said Eagerly. 'Merry Quotes Three Parallel 
 Passages. I Have Them In one Of     My Notebooks.' And She Began To 
 Search Her Table. Mannering stopped her Ungraciously. 
   
   
   
 'Of Course There'S Always Some Learned fool Behind Every Bad 
 Reading. Anyway, What Do You Say To Those Accents?' He Pointed 
 Severely To Another Line Of     Her Greek. This Time Miss Bremerton'S 
 Countenance Changed. 
   
   
   
 'Oh Dear, What A Blunder!' She Said In distress, As She Bent Over 
 Her Pages. 'I Assure You I Don'T Often Do Anything as Bad As That.' 
   
   
   
 Mannering was Secretly Delighted. His Manner Became At Once All 
 Politeness. 
   
   
   
 'Don'T Worry Yourself, Please. We All Make Mistakes.... You Have A 
 Beautiful Greek Handwriting.' 
   
   
   
 Miss Bremerton Took The     Compliment Calmly--Did Not Indeed seem To 
 Hear It. She Was Already Scratching out The     Offending words With A 
 Sharp Penknife, And Daintily Rewriting them. Then She Looked up. 
   
   
   
 'Pamela Asked me To Go Back To Her. And I Was To Say, Will You Come, 
 Or Shall She Send Tea Here?' 
   
   
   
   
 'Oh, I'Ll Come, I'Ll Come. I'Ve Got Something to Say To Pamela,' 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 2 Pg 34 
 Said The     Squire, Frowning. And He Stalked in front Of     Her Along The 
 Library Passage, His Brilliant White Hair Gleaming in its Shadows. 
 It Was Well Perhaps That He Did Not See The     Amusement Which Played 
 Round Elizabeth Bremerton'S Handsome Mouth As She Pursued him. 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 Tea Was Laid On A Flagged walk Under A Glazed pergola Running along 
 Part Of     The     Southern Wall Of     The     House. Here Pamela Was Sitting 
 Waiting, With A Basket Of     Knitting on Her Knee Which She Put Out Of 
 Sight As Soon As She Heard Her Father'S Step. She Had Taken Off Her 
 Hat, And Her Plentiful Brown Hair Was Drawn In a Soft Wave Across 
 Her Forehead, And Thickly Coiled behind A Shapely Head. She Was Very 
 Young, And Very Pretty. Perhaps The     Impression Of     Youth 
 Predominated, Youth Uncertain Of     Itself, Conscious Rather Of     Its Own 
 Richness And Force Than Of     Any Definite Aims Or Desires. Her 
 Expression Was Extremely Reserved. A Veil Seemed to Lie Over Her 
 Deep, Heavy-Lidded eyes, And Over Features That Had Now Delicacy And 
 Bloom, But Promised much More--Something far Beyond Any Mere Girlish 
 Prettiness. She Was Tall And Finely Made, And For The     School 
 Tableaux In which She Had Frequently Helped she Had Been Generally 
 Cast For Such Parts As 'Nausicaa Among Her Maidens,' 'Athene 
 Lighting the     Way For Odysseus And Telemachus,' 'Dante'S Beatrice,' 
 Or Any Other Personage Requiring dignity, Even A Touch Of     Majesty. 
 Flowing skirts, Indeed, At Once Made A Queen Of     Her. It Was Evident 
 That She Was Not At Her Ease With Her Father; Nor, As Yet, With Her 
 Father'S New Secretary. 
   
   
   
 The Contrast Between This Lady And Pamela Mannering was Obvious At 
 Once. If Pamela Suggested romance, Elizabeth Bremerton Suggested 
 Efficiency, Cheerfulness, And The     Practical Life. Her Grandmother 
 Had Been Dutch, And In elizabeth The     Fair Skin And Yellow-Gold Hair 
 (Rembrandt'S 'Saskia' Shows The     Type) Of     Many Dutch Forebears Had 
 Reappeared. She Was A Trifle Plump; Her Hair Curled prettily Round 
 Her Temples; Her Firm Dimpled chin And The     Fair Complexion Of     Her 
 Face And Neck Were Set Off, Evidently With Intention, By The     Plain 
 Blouse Of     Black Silky Stuff, Open At The     Neck, And Showing a Modest 
 String of     Small But Real Pearls. The     Squire, Who Had A Wide 
 Knowledge Of     Jewels, Had Noticed these Pearls At Once. It Seemed to 
 Him--Vaguely--That Lady Secretaries Should Not Possess Real Pearls; 
 Or If They Did Possess Them, Should Carefully Keep Them To 
 Themselves. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 2 Pg 35 
   
 He Accepted a Cup Of     Tea From His Daughter, And Drank It Absently 
 Before He Asked: 
   
   
   
 'Where'S Desmond?' 
   
   
   
 'He Went To Lunch At Fallerton--At The     Camp. Captain Byles Asked 
 Him. I Think Afterwards He Was Going to Play In a Match.' 
   
   
   
 The Same Thought Passed through The     Minds Of     Both Father And 
 Daughter. 'This Day Week, Desmond Will Be Gone.' In pamela It 
 Brought Back The     Dull Pain Of     Which She Was Now Habitually 
 Conscious--The Pain Of     Expected parting. In her Father It Aroused an 
 Equally Habitual Antagonism--The Temper, Indeed, Of     Ironic 
 Exasperation In which All His Thinking and Doing were At The     Moment 
 Steeped. He Looked up Suddenly. 
   
   
   
 'Pamela, I Have Got Something disagreeable To Say To You.' 
   
   
   
 His Daughter Turned a Startled face. 
   
   
   
 'I Have Had A Quarrel With Sir Henry Chicksands, And I Do Not Wish 
 You, Or Desmond, Or Any Of     My Children, To Have Any Communication 
 Henceforth With Him, Or With Any Of     His Family!' 
   
   
   
 'Father, What _Do_ You Mean?' 
   
   
   
 The Girl'S Incredulous Dismay Only Increased the     Squire'S 
 Irritation. 
   
   
   
 'I Mean What I Say. Of     Course Your Married sisters And Aubrey Will 
 Do What They Please, Though I Have Warned aubrey How I Shall View It 
 If He Takes Sides Against Me. But You And Desmond Are Under My 
 Control--You, At Any Rate. I Forbid You To Go To Chetworth, And Your 
 Friendship With Beryl Must Be Given Up.' 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 2 Pg 36 
   
 'Father!' Cried his Daughter Passionately, 'She Is My Best Friend, 
 And She Is Engaged to Aubrey.' 
   
   
   
 'If They Are Wise, They Will Break It Off. Family Quarrels Are 
 Awkward Things. And If Aubrey Has Any Feeling for His Father, He 
 Will Be As Angry As I Am.' 
   
   
   
 'What _Has_ Sir Henry Been Doing, Father?' 
   
   
   
 'Taking my Own Property Out Of     My Hands, My Dear, Giving notice To 
 My Farmers, And Proposing to Plough Up My Park, Without My Consent. 
 That'S All--Just A Trifle. But It'S A Trifle I Shall Fight!' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Struck The     Arm Of     His Chair With A Long And Bony Hand. 
   
   
   
 'Why, It'S Only Because They _Must_!' Said The     Girl Half Scornfully, 
 Her Breath Fluttering. 'Think What Other People Put Up With, 
 Father. And What They Do! And We Do _Nothing_!' 
   
   
   
 Every Word Was Said With Difficulty, Torn Out Of     Her By The     Shock Of 
 Her Father'S Statement. The     Squire Stared at Her Threateningly A 
 Little, Then Quieted down. He Did Not Want A Wrangle With Pamela, To 
 Whom In general He Was Not Unkind, While Keeping a Strict Rule Over 
 Her. 
   
   
   
 'Do Nothing? What Should We Do? As If The     War Did Not Bleed us At 
 Every Turn Already. I Warn You All I Shan'T Be Able To Pay The 
 Income Tax Next Year. Mannering will Be Sold Up.' And Thrusting his 
 Hands Again Into His Pockets, He Looked gloomily Before Him, Over A 
 Piece Of     Ill-Kept Garden, To The     Sloping park And Blue Interlacing 
 Hills That Filled the     Distance. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Bremerton Put Down Her Teacup, Glanced at The     Father And 
   
 Daughter, And Went Discreetly Away, Back To The     Library And Her 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 2 Pg 37 
 Work. 
   
   
   
 Pamela Hesitated a Little, But At Last Moved nearer To Him, And Put 
 A Hand On His Arm. 
   
   
   
 'Father! I Dreadfully Want You To Let Me Do Something!' 
   
   
   
 'Eh, What?' Said Mannering, Rousing himself. 'Don'T Try And Coax Me, 
 Child. It Doesn'T Answer.' 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T Want To Coax You,' Said The     Girl Proudly Withdrawing her 
 Hand. 'It'S A Very Simple Thing. Will You Let Me Go And Do Day Work 
 At The     New Hospital, Just Across The     Park? They Want Some Help In 
 The Housework. There Are Fifty Wounded men There.' 
   
   
   
 'Certainly Not,' Said Mannering firmly. 'You Are Too Young. You Have 
 Your Education To Think Of. I Told You I Engaged miss Bremerton To 
 Give You Two Hours' Classics A Day. When We'Ve Arranged these Pots, 
 She'Ll Be Free. You Must Also Keep Up Your Music. You Have No Time 
 For Housemaiding. And I Don'T Approve Of     Housemaiding for My 
 Daughter.' 
   
   
   
 'The Nicest Girls I Know Are Doing _Anything_--Scrubbing, Washing 
 Up, Polishing bath-Taps, Making swabs, Covering splints,' Said 
 Pamela In a Low Voice. 'There Are Two Of     The     Joyce Girls At This 
 Hospital, Just My Age. Of     Course They Don'T Let You Do Any 
 Nursing--For Months.' 
   
   
   
 'Lord Entwhistle May Do What He Likes With His Girls. I Propose To 
 Do What I Think Best With Mine,' Said Mannering as He Rose. 
   
   
   
 Then The     Girl'S Passion Broke Out. 
   
   
   
 'It'S _Horrible_, Father, That You Won'T Do Anything for The     War, Or 
 Let Me Do Anything. Oh, I'M _Glad_'--She Clenched her Hands As She 
 Stood Opposite Him, Her Beautiful Head Thrown Back--'I'M Thankful 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 2 Pg 38 
 That You Can'T Stop Desmond!' 
   
   
   
 Mannering looked at Her, Frowned, Turned abruptly, And Went Away 
 Whistling. 
   
   
   
 Pamela Was Left Alone In the     September Evening. She Betook Herself 
 To An Old Grass-Grown Walk Between Yew Hedges At The     Bottom Of     The 
 Dutch Garden, And Paced it In a Tumult Of     Revolt And Pain. Not To Go 
 To Chetworth Again! Not To See Beryl, Or Any Of     Them! How Cruel! How 
 Monstrously Unjust! 
   
   
   
 'I Shan'T Obey!--Why Should I? Beryl And I Must Manage To See Each 
 Other--Of Course We Shall! Girls Aren'T The     Slaves They Used to Be. 
 If A Thing is Unjust, We Can Fight It--We Ought To Fight 
 It!--Somehow. Poor, Poor Beryl! Of     Course Aubrey Will Stick To Her, 
 Whatever Father Does. He Would Be A Cur If He Didn'T. Desmond And I 
 Would Never Speak To Him Again!... Beryl'Ll Have Arthur To Help 
 Her, Directly. Oh, I _Wish_ I Had A Brother Like Arthur!' Her Face 
 Softened and Quivered as She Stood Still A Moment, Sending her 
 Ardent Look Towards The     Sunset. 'I Think I Shall Ask Him To Advise 
 Me.... I Don'T Suppose He Will.... How Provoking he Used to Be! But 
 Awfully Kind Too. He'Ll Think I Ought To Do What Father Tells Me. 
 How Can I! It'S Wrong--It'S Abominable! Everybody Despises Us. And 
 Desmond'S Dying to Be Off--To Get Away From It All--Like Aubrey. He 
 Hates It So--He Almost Hates Coming home! It'S _Humiliating_, And 
 It'S Not Our Fault!' 
   
   
   
 Such Cries And Thoughts Ran Through Her As She Walked impetuously Up 
 And Down, In rebellion Against Her Father, Unhappy For Her Girl 
 Friend, And Smarting under The     Coercion Put Upon Her Patriotism And 
 Her Conscience. For She Had Only Two Months Before Left A School 
 Where The     Influence Of     A Remarkable Head-Mistress Had Been Directed 
 Towards Awakening in a Group Of     Elder Girls, To Which Pamela 
 Belonged, A Vivid Consciousness Of     The     Perils And Sufferings Of     The 
 War--Of The     Sacredness Of     The     Cause For Which England Was Fighting, 
 Of The     Glory Of     England, And The     Joy And Privilege Of     English 
 Citizenship. In these Young Creatures The     Elder Woman Had Kindled a 
 Flame Of     Feeling which, When They Parted from Her And Their School 
 Life--So She Told Them--Was To Take Practical Effect In work For 
 Their Country, Given With A Proud And Glad Devotion. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 2 Pg 39 
   
   
 But Pamela, Leaving school At The     End Of     July For The     Last Time, 
 After A Surfeit Of     Examinations, Had Been Pronounced 'Tired out' By 
 An Old Aunt, A Certain Lady Cassiobury, Who Came For Long Periodical 
 Visits To Mannering, And Made A Show Of     Looking after Her 
 Motherless Niece. Accordingly She Had Been Packed off To Scotland 
 For August To Stay With A School Friend, One Of     A Large Family In a 
 Large Country House In the     Highlands. And There, Roaming amid Lochs 
 And Heather, With A Band Of     Young People, The     Majority Of     The     Men, 
 Of Course, In the     Army--Young Officers On Short Leave, Or 
 Temporarily Invalided, Or Boys Of     Eighteen Just Starting their Cadet 
 Training--She Had Spent A Month Full Of     Emotions, Not Often 
 Expressed. For Generally She Was Shy And Rather Speechless, Though 
 None The     Less Liked by Her Companions For That. But Many Things Sank 
 Deep With Her; The     Beauty Of     Mountain And Stream; The     Character 
 Of Some Of     The     Boys She Walked and Fished with--Unnoticed 
 Sub-Lieutenants, Who Had Come Home To Get Cured of     One Wound, And 
 Were Going out Again To The     Immediate Chance Of     Another, Or Worse; 
 The Tales Of     Heroism And Death Of     Which The     Scotch Countryside Was 
 Full. Her Own Mood Was Tuned thereby To An Ever Higher And More 
 Tragic Key. Nobody Indeed of     The     Party Was The     Least Tragic. 
 Everybody Walked, Fished, Flirted, And Laughed from Morning till 
 Night. Yet Every Newspaper, Every Post, Brought News Of     Some Death 
 That Affected one Or Other Of     The     Large Group; And Amid All The 
 Sheer Physical Joy Of     The     Long Days In the     Open, Bathed in sun And 
 Wind, There Was A Sense In all Of     Them--Or Almost All Of     Them--That 
 No Summer Now Is As The     Summers Of     The     Past, That Behind And Around 
 The Laughter And The     Picnicking there Lay The     Shadow That Darkens 
 The World. 
   
   
   
 One Gorgeous Evening of     Gold And Purple She Was Sitting by A 
 Highland Stream With A Lad Of     Twenty, Throwing ducks And Drakes Into 
 The Water. She Was Not At All In love With Him; But, Immature As She 
 Was, She Could Not Help Seeing that He Was A Good Deal In love With 
 Her. He Had Been In uproarious Spirits All The     Afternoon, And Then 
 Somehow He Had Contrived to Find This Moment Alone With Her. 
   
   
   
 'Well, It'Ll Be Good-Bye To-Morrow, Or Perhaps To-Night,' He Had 
 Said, As He Flung Yet Another Stone Into The     River, And She Clapped 
 Her Hands As She Counted no Less Than Six Skips Along The     Smooth 
   
 Water. 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 2 Pg 40 
   
 'And Then No Leave For A Long Time?' 
   
   
   
 'Well, I'D Been Ten Months Without Any Before.' 
   
   
   
 'Perhaps We'Ll Meet Here Again--Next Year.' 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T Expect It,' He Said Quietly. 
   
   
   
 Her Startled eyes Met His Full. 
   
   
   
 'It'Ll Be Worse Fighting this Winter Than Last--It'Ll Go On Getting 
 Worse Till The     End. I Don'T Look To Coming back.' 
   
   
   
 His Tone Was So Cheerful And Matter-Of-Fact That It Confused her. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, Basil, Don'T Talk Like That!' Was All She Could Find To Say. 
   
   
   
 'Why Not? Of     Course It'S Better Not To Talk About It. Nobody Does. 
 But Just This Afternoon--When It'S Been So Jolly--Here With You, I 
 Thought I'D Like To Say A Word. Perhaps You'Ll Remember--' 
   
   
   
 He Threw Another Stone, And On The     Moor Beyond The     Stream She Heard 
 The Grouse Calling. 
   
   
   
 'Remember What?' 
   
   
   
 'That I Was Quite Willing,' He Said Simply. 'That'S All. It'S Worth 
   
 It.' 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 2 Pg 41 
   
   
   
 She Could Say Nothing, But Presently Her Hand Dropped its Pebble And 
 Found Its Way Into His, And He Had Held It Without Saying a Word For 
 A Little While. Then After Dinner, With No Good-Bye To Her, He Had 
 Disappeared by The     Night Train To The     South. 
   
   
   
 And That Had Been The     Spirit Of     All Of     Them, Those Jolly, Rampagious 
 Lads, Plain Or Handsome, Clever Or Slow. Two Of     Them Were Dead 
 Already. But The     One Who Had Thrown Ducks And Drakes Was Still, So 
 Far As She Knew, Somewhere In the     Ypres Salient, Unscathed. 
   
   
   
 And After That She Had Come Home To The     Atmosphere Created by Her 
 Father'S Life And Character, In this Old House Where She Was Born, 
 And In the     Estate Round About It. It Was As Though She Had Only Just 
 Realized--Begun To Realize--Her Father'S Strangeness. His 
 Eccentricities And Unpopularity Had Meant Little To Her Before. Her 
 Own Real Interests Had Lain Elsewhere; And Her Mind Had Been Too 
 Slow In developing to Let Her Appreciate His Fundamental Difference 
 From Other People. 
   
   
   
 At Any Rate Her Father'S Unpopularity Had Been Lately Acute, And 
 Pamela Herself Felt It Bitterly, And Shrank From Her Neighbours And 
 The Cottage People. When Desmond Came Home With A D.S.O., Or A 
 Victoria Cross, As Of     Course He Would, She Supposed it Would Be All 
 Right. But Meanwhile Not A Single Thing done For The     War!--Not A 
 _Sou_ To The     Red cross, Or To Any War Funds! And Hundreds Spent On 
 Antiquities--Thousands Perhaps--Getting them Deeper And Deeper Into 
 Debt. For She Was Quite Aware That They Were In debt; And Her Own 
 Allowance Was Of     The     Smallest. Two Hundred and Fifty A Year, Too, 
 For Miss Bremerton!--When They Could Barely Afford To Keep Up The 
 Garden Decently, Or Repair The     House. She Knew It Was Two Hundred 
 And Fifty Pounds. Her Father Was Never Reticent About Such Things, 
 And Had Named the     Figure At Once. 
   
   
   
 'Why Wasn'T Miss Bremerton Doing something for The     War? _Greek_ 
 Indeed! When There Was This Fearful Thing going on!' And In the 
 Evening air, As The     Girl Turned her Face Towards The     Moonrise, She 
 Seemed to Hear The     Booming of     The     Flanders Guns. 
   
   
   
   
 And Now Miss Bremerton Was To Do The     Housekeeping, And To Play Tutor 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 2 Pg 42 
 And Chaperon To Her. Pamela Resented both. If She Was Not To Be 
 Allowed to Scrub In a Hospital, She Might At Least Have Learnt Some 
 Housekeeping at Home, For Future Use. As For The     Greek Lessons, It 
 Was Not Easy For Her To Be Positively Rude To Any One, But She 
 Promised herself A Good Deal Of     Passive Resistance On That Side. For 
 If Nothing else Was Possible, She Could Always Sew And Knit For The 
 Soldiers. Pamela Was Not Very Good At Either, But They Did Something 
 To Lessen The     Moral Thirst In her. 
   
   
   
 Ah, There Was The     Library Door. Miss Bremerton Coming out--Perhaps 
 To Propose A Lesson! Pamela Took To Flight--Noiseless And 
 Rapid--Among The     Bosky Corners And Walks Of     The     Old Garden. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Emerged, Clearly Perceiving a Gleam Of     Vanishing white In 
 The Far Distance. She Sighed, But Not At All Sentimentally. 'It'S 
 Silly How She Dislikes Me,' She Thought. 'I Wonder What I Can Do!' 
   
   
   
 Then Her Eye Was Caught By The     Tea-Table Still Standing out In the 
 Golden Dusk, Which Had Now Turned damp And Chilly. Careless Of 
 Pamela Not To Have Sent It Away! Elizabeth Examined it. Far Too Many 
 Cakes--Too Much Sugar, Too Much Butter, Too Much Everything! And All 
 Because The     Squire, Who Seemed to Have As Great A Need of     Economy As 
 Anybody Else, If Not More, To Judge From What She Was Beginning to 
 Know About His Affairs, Was Determined to Flout The     Food 
 Controller, And Public Opinion! What About The     Servants? She 
 Wondered. 
   
   
   
 Perceiving a Little Silver Bell On The     Table She Rang It And Waited. 
 Within A Couple Of     Minutes Forest Emerged from The     House. Elizabeth 
 Hesitated, Then Plunged. 
   
   
   
 'Take Away The     Tea, Please, Forest. And--And I Should Like To 
 Consult You. Do You Think Anybody Wants As Much Tea And Cakes In 
 War-Time?' She Pointed to The     Table. 
   
   
   
 Forest Paused as He Was Lifting the     Silver Tray, And Put It Down 
 Again. He Looked at The     Table; Then He Looked at The     Lady Opposite. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 2 Pg 43 
   
 'We Servants, Miss, Have Never Been Asked what _We_ Think. Mr. 
 Mannering--That'S Not His Way.' 
   
   
   
 'But I May Ask It, Mayn'T I, Forest?' 
   
   
   
 Forest'S Intelligent Face Flamed. 
   
   
   
 'Well, If We'Ve Really To Speak Out What We Think, Miss--That'S Cook 
 And Me--Why, Of     Course, The     Feeding here--Well, It'S A Scandal! 
 That'S What It Is. The     Master Will Have It. No Change, He Says, From 
 What It Used to Be. And The     Waste--Well, You Ask Cook! _She_ Can'T 
 Help It!' 
   
   
   
 'Has She Been Here Long, Forest?' 
   
   
   
 'Fifteen Years.' 
   
   
   
 'And You?' 
   
   
   
 'Twenty-Two, Miss.' 
   
   
   
 'Well, Forest,' Miss Bremerton Approached him Confidingly, 'Don'T 
 You Think That You, And Cook, And I--You Know Mr. Mannering wishes 
 Me To Do The     Housekeeping--Well, That Between Us We Could Do 
 Something?' 
   
   
   
 Forest Considered it. 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T See Why Not, Miss,' He Said At Last, With Caution. 'You Can 
 Reckon On Me, That'S Certain, And On Cook, That'S Certain Too. As 
 For The     Young Uns, We Can Get Round Them! They'Ll Eat What They'Re 
 Given. But You'Ll Have To Go Careful With The     Squire.' 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 2 Pg 44 
   
 Miss Bremerton Smiled and Nodded. They Stood Colloguing in the 
 Twilight For Ten Minutes More. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 3 Pg 45 
   
   
 'I Say, Pamela, Who _Is_ This Female, And Why Has She Descended on 
 Us?' 
   
   
   
 The Speaker Was Desmond Mannering. He Was Sitting on The     Edge Of     A 
 Much Dilapidated arm-Chair In the     Room Which Had Been The     Twins' 
 "Den" From Their Childhood, In which Pamela'S Governess Even, Before 
 The Girl'S School Years, Was Allowed only On Occasional And 
 Precarious Footing. Here Pamela Dabbed in photography, Made 
 Triumphant Piles Of     The     Socks And Mittens She Kept From Her Father'S 
 Eye, Read History, Novels, And Poetry, And Wrote To Her School 
 Friends And The     Boys She Had Met In scotland. Ranged along The 
 Mantelpiece Were Numbers Of     Snapshots--Groups And Single 
 Figures--Taken By Her, With Results That Showed her No Great 
 Performer. 
   
   
   
 At The     Moment, However, Pamela Was Engaged in marking desmond'S 
 Socks. She Was Very Jealous Of     Her Sisterly Prerogative In the 
 Matter Of     Desmond'S Kit, And Personal Affairs Generally. Forest Was 
 The Only Person She Would Allow To Advise Her, And One Or Two 
 Innocent Suggestions Made That Morning by Her New Chaperon Had 
 Produced a Good Deal Of     Irritation. 
   
   
   
 Pamela Looked up With A Flushed countenance. 
   
   
   
 'I Believe Father Did It Specially That He Might Be Able To Tell 
 Alice And Margaret That He Hadn'T A Farthing for Their War 
   
 Charities.' 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 3 Pg 46 
   
 'You Mean Because She Costs So Much?' 
   
   
   
 'Two Hundred and Fifty,' Said Pamela Drily. 
   
   
   
 'My Hat!--And Her Keep! I Call That Mean Of     Father,' Said Desmond 
 Indignantly. 'You Can'T Go Tick With A Secretary. It Means Cash. 
 There'Ll Never Be Anything for You, Pam, And Nothing for The     Garden. 
 The Two Old Fellows That Were Here Last Week Have Been Turned off, 
 Forest Tells Me?' 
   
   
   
 'Father Expects Me To Do The     Garden,' Said Pamela, With Rather 
 Pinched lips. 
   
   
   
 'Well, Jolly Good Thing,' Laughed her Brother. 'Do You A Lot Of 
 Good, Pam. You Never Get Half Enough Exercise.' 
   
   
   
 'I Wouldn'T Mind If I Were Paid Wages And Could Spend The     Money As I 
 Liked.' 
   
   
   
 'Poor Old Pam! It Is Hard Lines. I Heard Father Tell The     Rector He'D 
 Spent Eighteen Hundred at That Sale.' 
   
   
   
 'And I'M Ashamed to Face Any Of     The     Tradesmen,' Said Pamela 
 Fiercely. 'Why They Go On Trusting us I Don'T Know.' 
   
   
   
 Desmond Looked out Of     The     Window With A Puckered brow--A Slim Figure 
 In His Cadet'S Uniform. To Judge From A Picture On The     Wall Behind 
 His Head, An Enlarged photograph Of     The     Late Mrs. Mannering taken A 
 Year Before The     Birth Of     The     Twins--An Event Which Had Cost The 
 Mother Her Life--Desmond Resembled her Rather Than His Father. In 
 Both Faces There Was The     Same Smiling youthfulness, Combined--As 
   
 Indeed also In pamela--With Something that Entirely Banished any 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 3 Pg 47 
 Suggestion Of     Insipidity--Something that Seemed to Say, 'There Is A 
 Soul Here--And A Brain.' It Had Sometimes Occurred, In a Dreamy Way 
 To Pamela, To Connect That Smile On Her Mother'S Face With A Line In 
 A Poem Of     Browning'S, Which She Had Learnt For Recitation At 
 School: 
   
   
   
                This Grew; I Gave Commands; 
           Then All Smiles Stopped together. 
   
   
   
 Had Her Mother Been Happy? That Her Children Could Never Know. 
   
   
   
 Desmond'S Countenance, However, Soon Cleared. It Was Impossible For 
 Him To Frown For Long On Any Subject. He Was Very Sorry For 'Old 
 Pam.' His Father'S Opinions And Behaviour Were Too Queer For Words. 
 He Would Be Jolly Worried if He Had To Stay Long At Home, Like 
 Pamela. But Then He Wasn'T Going to Be Long At Home. He Was Going 
 Off To His Artillery Camp In two Days, And The     Thought Filled him 
 With A Restless And Impatient Delight. At The     Same Time He Was More 
 Tolerant Of     His Father Than Pamela Was, Though He Could Not Have 
 Told Why. 
   
   
   
 'Desmond, Give Me Your Foot,' Pamela Presently Commanded. 
   
   
   
 The Boy Bared his Foot Obediently, And Held It Out While Pamela 
 Tried on A Sock She Had Just Finished knitting on A New Pattern. 
   
   
   
 'I'M Not Very Good At It,' Sighed pamela. 'Are You Sure You Can Wear 
 Them, Dezzy?' 
   
   
   
 'Wear Them? Ripping!' Said The     Boy, Surveying his Foot At Different 
 Angles. 'But You Know, Pam, I Can'T Take Half The     Things You Want Me 
 To Take. What On Earth Did You Get Me A Gieve Waistcoat For?' 
   
   
   
 'How Do You Know You Won'T Be Going to Mesopotamia?' 
   
   
   
   
 'Well, I Don'T Know; But I Don'T Somehow Think It'S Very Likely. 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 3 Pg 48 
 They Get Their Drafts From Egypt, And There'S Lots Of     Artillery 
 There.' 
   
   
   
 Pamela Remembered with Annoyance That Miss Bremerton Had Gently 
 Hinted the     Same Thing when The     Gieve Waistcoat Had Been Unpacked in 
 Her Presence. It Was True, Of     Course, That She Had A Brother 
 Fighting under General Maude. That, No Doubt, Did Give Her A Modest 
 Right To Speak. 
   
   
   
 'How Old Do You Think She Is?' Said Desmond, Nodding in the 
 Direction Of     The     Library. 
   
   
   
 'Well, She'S Over Thirty.' 
   
   
   
 'She Doesn'T Look It.' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, Desmond, She Does!' 
   
   
   
 'Let'S Call Her The     New Broom--Broomie For Short,' Said Desmond. 
 'Look Here, Pam, I Wish You'D Try And Like Her. I Shall Have A 
 Dreadful Hump When I Get To Camp If I Think She'S Going to Make You 
 Miserable.' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, I'Ll Try,' Said The     Girl With Dreary Resignation. 'You Know I'M 
 Not To See Beryl Again?' She Looked up. 
   
   
   
 Her Brother Laughed. 
   
   
   
 'Don'T I See You Keeping to That! If Aubrey'S Any Good He'Ll Marry 
 Her Straight Away. And Then How Can Father Boycott Her After That?' 
   
   
   
   
 'He Will,' Said Pamela Decisively. 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 3 Pg 49 
   
 'And If Father Thinks I'M Going to Give Up Arthur, He'S Jolly Well 
 Mistaken,' Said The     Boy With Energy. 'Arthur'S The     Best Fellow I 
 Know, And He'S Been Just Ripping to Me.' 
   
   
   
 The Young Face Softened and Glowed as Though Under The     Stress Of 
 Some Guarded memory. Pamela, Looking up, Caught Her Brother'S 
 Expression And Glowed too. 
   
   
   
 'Beryl Says He Isn'T A Bit Strong Yet. But He'S Moving heaven And 
 Earth To Get Back To The     Front.' 
   
   
   
 'Well, If They Don'T Give Him Enough To Do He'Ll Be Pretty Sick. 
 He'S No Good At Loafing.' 
   
   
   
 There Was Silence A Little. Outside A Misty Sunshine Lay On The 
 Garden And The     Park And In it The     Changing trees Were Beginning to 
 Assume The     Individuality And Separateness Of     Autumn After The 
 Levelling promiscuity Of     The     Summer. The     Scene Was Very English And 
 Peaceful; And Between It And The     Two Young Creatures Looking out 
 Upon It There Were A Thousand Links Of     Memory And Association. 
 Suddenly Desmond Said: 
   
   
   
 'Do You Remember That Bother I Got Into At Eton, Pam?' 
   
   
   
 Pamela Nodded. Didn'T She Remember It? A Long Feud With Another 
 Boy--Ending in a Highly Organized fight--Absolute Defiance Of     Tutor 
 And Housemaster On Desmond'S Part--And Threatened expulsion. The 
 Squire'S Irritable Pride Had Made Him Side Ostentatiously With His 
 Son, And Pamela Could Only Be Miserable And Expect The     Worst. Then 
 Suddenly The     Whole Convulsion Had Quieted down, And Desmond'S Last 
 Year At Eton Had Been A Very Happy One. Why? What Had Happened? 
 Pamela Had Never Known. 
   
   
   
 'Well, Arthur Heard Of     It From "My Tutor." He And Arthur Were At 
 Trinity Together. And Arthur Came Over From Cambridge And Had Me Out 
   
 For A Walk, And Jawed me, Jawed "My Tutor," Jawed the     Head, Jawed 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 3 Pg 50 
 Everybody. Oh, Well No Good Going into The     Rotten Thing,' Said 
 Desmond, Flushing, 'But Arthur Was Awfully Decent Anyway.' 
   
   
   
 Pamela Assented mutely. She Did Not Want To Talk About Arthur 
 Chicksands. There Was In her A Queer Foreboding sense About Him. She 
 Did Not In the     Least Expect Him To Fall In love With Her; Yet There 
 Was A Dim, Intermittent Fear In her Lest He Might Become Too 
 Important To Her, Together With A Sharp Shrinking from The     News, 
 Which Of     Course Might Come Any Day, That He Was Going to Be Married. 
 She Had Known Him From Her Childhood, Had Romped and Sparred with 
 Him. He Was The     Gayest, Most Charming companion; Yet He Carried with 
 Him, Quite Unconsciously, Something that Made It Delightful To Be 
 Smiled at Or Praised by Him, And A Distress When You Did Not Get On 
 With Him, And Were Quite Certain That He Thought You Silly Or 
 Selfish. There Was A Rumour Which Reached mannering after The     Second 
 Battle Of     Ypres That He Had Been Killed. The     Chicksands' Household 
 Believed it For Twenty-Four Hours. 
   
   
   
 Then He Was Discovered--Gassed and Stunned--In A Shell-Hole, And 
 There Had Been A Long Illness And Convalescence. During the 
 Twenty-Four Hours When He Was Believed to Be Dead, Pamela Had Spent 
 The April Daylight In the     Depths Of     The     Mannering woods, In tangled 
 Hiding-Places That Only She Knew. It Was In the     Easter Holidays. She 
 Was Alone At Mannering with An Old Governess, While Her Father Was 
 In London. The     Little Wrinkled frenchwoman Watched her In silence, 
 Whenever She Was Allowed to See Her. Then When On The     Second Morning 
 There Came A Telegram From Chetworth, And Pamela Tore It Open, 
 Flying with It Before She Read It To The     Secrecy Of     Her Own Room, 
 The Frenchwoman Smiled and Sighed. 'Ca, C'Est L'Amour!' She Said To 
 Herself, 'Assurément C'Est L'Amour!' And When Pamela Came Down 
 Again, Radiant As A Young Seraph, And Ready To Kiss The     Apple-Red 
 Cheek Of     The     Frenchwoman--The Rarest Concession!--Madame Guérin Did 
 Not Need to Be Told That Arthur Chicksands Was Safe And Likely To Be 
 Sound. 
   
   
   
 But The     Frenchwoman'S Inference Was Premature. During the     Two Years 
 She Had Been At School, Pamela Had Thought Very Little Of     Arthur 
 Chicksands. She Was Absorbed in one Of     Those Devotions To A 
 Woman--Her Schoolmistress--Very Common Among Girls Of     Strong 
 Character, And Sometimes Disastrous. In her Case It Had Worked well. 
 And Now The     Period Of     Extravagant Devotion Was Over, And The     Girl'S 
 Mind And Heart Set Free. She Thought She Had Forgotten Arthur 
   
 Chicksands, And Was Certain He Must Have Forgotten Her. As It 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 3 Pg 51 
 Happened they Had Never Met Since His Return To The     Front In the 
 Autumn Of     1915--Pamela Was Then Seventeen And A Schoolgirl--Or, As 
 She Now Put It, A Baby. She Remembered the     Child Who Had Hidden 
 Herself In the     Woods As Something very Far Away. 
   
   
   
 And Yet She Did Not Want To Talk About 'Arthur,' As She Had Always 
 Called him, And There Was A Certain Tremor And Excitement In her 
 Mind About Him. The     Idea Of     Being prevented from Seeing him Was 
 Absurd--Intolerable. She Was Already Devising ways And Means Of 
 Doing it. It Was Really Not To Be Expected that Filial Obedience 
 Should Reign At Mannering. 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 The Twins Had Long Left The     Subject Of     The     Embargo On Chetworth, And 
 Were Wrangling and Chaffing over The     Details Of     Desmond'S Packing, 
 When There Was A Knock At The     Door. 
   
   
   
 Pamela Stiffened at Once. 
   
   
   
 'Come In!' 
   
   
   
 Miss Bremerton Entered. 
   
   
   
 'Are You Very Busy?' 
   
   
   
 'Not At All!' Said Desmond Politely, Scurrying with His Best Eton 
 Manners To Find A Chair For The     Newcomer. 'It'S An Awful Muddle, But 
 That'S Pamela!' 
   
   
   
 Pamela Aimed a Sponge-Bag At Him, Which He Dodged, And Elizabeth 
 Bremerton Sat Down. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 3 Pg 52 
   
 'I Want To Hold A Council With You,' She Said, Turning a Face Just 
 Touched with Laughter From One To The     Other. 'Do You Mind?' 
   
   
   
 'Certainly Not,' Said Desmond, Sitting on The     Floor With His Hands 
 Round His Knees. 'What'S It About?' And He Gave Pamela'S Right Foot 
 A Nudge With His Left By Way Of     Conveying to Her That He Thought Her 
 Behaviour Ungracious. Pamela Hurriedly Murmured, 'Delighted.' 
   
   
   
 'I Want To Tell You About The     Servants,' Said Elizabeth. 'I Can'T Do 
 Anything unless You Help Me.' 
   
   
   
 'Help You In what?' Said Desmond, Wondering. 
   
   
   
 'Well, You Know, It'S Simply Scandalous What You'Re All Eating in 
 This House!' Exclaimed elizabeth, With Sudden Energy. 'You Ought To 
 Be Fined.' She Frowned, And Her Fair Dutch Complexion Became A 
 Bright Pink. 
   
   
   
 'It'S Quite True,' Said Pamela, Startled. 'I Told Father, And He 
 Laughed at Me.' 
   
   
   
 'But Now Even The     Servants Are On Strike,' Said Elizabeth. 'It'S 
 Forest That'S Been Preaching to Them. He And Cook Have Been Drawing 
 Up A Week'S _Menu_, According to The     Proper Scale. But--' 
   
   
   
 'Father Won'T Have It,' Said Pamela Decidedly. 
   
   
   
 'An Idea Has Occurred to Me,' Was Elizabeth'S Apologetic Reply. 
 'Your Father Doesn'T Come In to Lunch?' 
   
   
   
 'Happy Thought!' Cried desmond. 'Send Him In a Ritz Luncheon, While 
 The Rest Of     You Starve. Easy Enough For Me To Say As I'M Off--And 
 Soldiers Aren'T Rationed! We May Be As Greedy Pigs As We Like.' 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 3 Pg 53 
   
 'What Do You Say?' Elizabeth Looked at Pamela. The     Girl Was 
 Flattered by The     Deference Shown Her, And Gradually Threw Herself 
 Into The     Little Plot. How To Set Up A Meatless Day For The 
 Household, Minus The     Squire, And Not Be Found Out; How To Restrict 
 The Bread And Porridge Allowance, While Apparently Outrunning 
 It--Knotty Problems! Into Which The     Twins Plunged with Much Laughter 
 And Ingenuity. At The     End Of     The     Discussion, Elizabeth Said With 
 Hesitation, 'I Don'T Like Not Telling mr. Mannering, But--' 
   
   
   
 'Oh No, You Can'T Tell Him' Said Pamela, In her Most Resolute Tone. 
 'Besides, It'S For The     Country!' 
   
   
   
 'Yes, It'S The     Country!' Echoed elizabeth. 'Oh, I'M So Glad You 
 Agree With Me. Forest'S Splendid!' 
   
   
   
 'I Say, Broomie'S Not Bad,' Thought Desmond. Aloud He Said, 
 'Forest'S A Regular Turk In the     Servants' Hall--Rules Them All With 
 A Rod Of     Iron.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Laughed. 'He Tells Me There Was A Joint Of     Cold Beef Last 
 Night For Supper, And He Carried it Away Bodily Back Into The 
 Larder. And They All Supped on Fried potatoes, Cheese, Oatcake And 
 Jam! So Then I Asked him Whether Anybody Minded, And He Said The 
 Little Kitchen-Maid Cried a Bit, And Said She "Was Used to Her 
 Vittles And Her Mother Would Be Dreadfully Put Out." "'_Mother_!' 
 Says I, 'Haven'T You Got _A Young Man_!' And Then I Give Her A Real 
 Talking to About The     War. 'You Back Your Young Man,' I Said, 'And 
 There'S Only One Way As Females Can Do It--Barring them As Is In 
 Munitions. Every Bit Of     Bread You Don'T Eat Is Helping to Kill 
 Boches. And What Else Is Your Young Man Doin'? Where Do You Say He 
 Is? Wipers? You Ask Him. He'Ll Tell You!' So Then We Were All Nice 
 And Comfortable--And You Needn'T Bother About Us Downstairs. _We'Re_ 
 All Right!"' 
   
   
   
 'Good Old Forest!' Laughed desmond, Delighted. 'I Always Knew He Was 
 The Real Boss Here. Father Thinks He Is, But He Can'T Do Without 
 Forest, And The     Old Boy Knows It.' 
   
   
   
 'Well, So That'S Agreed,' Said Elizabeth Demurely, As She Rose. 'I 
   
 Naturally Couldn'T Do Anything without You, But So Long As Your 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 3 Pg 54 
 Father Gets Everything that He'S Accustomed to--' 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T See Quite What You'Re Going to Do About Dinner--Late 
 Dinner, I Mean?' Said Pamela Pensively. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Beamed at Her. 
   
   
   
 'Well, I Became A Vegetarian Last Week, Except For Very Occasional 
 Break-Outs. Fish Is A Vegetable!' 
   
   
   
 'I See,' Reflected pamela. 'We Can Break Out Now And Then At Dinner, 
 When Father'S Got His Eye On Us--' 
   
   
   
 'And Be Pure Patriots At Lunch,' Laughed miss Bremerton, As She 
 Opened the     Door. 'Au Revoir! I Must Go Back To Work.' 
   
   
   
 She Vanished. The     Brother And Sister Looked at Each Other. 
   
   
   
 Desmond Gave His Opinion. 
   
   
   
 'I Believe She'S A Good Sort!' 
   
   
   
 '"Wait And See,"' Said Pamela Pompously, And Returned to Her 
 Packing. 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 The Preceding conversation Took Place During a Break In elizabeth'S 
 Morning occupations. She Had Been Busily Occupied in collecting and 
 Copying out Some References From Pausanias, Under The     Squire'S 
   
 Direction. He Meanwhile Had Been Cataloguing and Noting his New 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 3 Pg 55 
 Possessions, Which, Thanks To The     Aid Of     His Henchman Levasseur, Had 
 Been Already Arranged. And They Made Indeed a Marvellous Addition To 
 The Mannering library And Its Collections. At The     End Of     The     Room 
 Stood Now A Huge Archaic Nikê, With Outstretched peplum And Soaring 
 Wings. To Her Left Was The     Small Figure, Archaic Also, Of     A 
 Charioteer, From The     Excavations At Delphi, Amazingly Full Of     Life 
 In Spite Of     Hieratic And Traditional Execution. But The     Most 
 Conspicuous Thing of     All Was A Mutilated erôs, By A Late Rhodian 
 Artist--Subtle, Thievish, Lovely, Breathing an Evil And Daemonic 
 Charm. It Stood Opposite The     Nikê, 'On Tiptoe For A Flight.' And 
 There Was That In it Which Seemed at Moments To Disorganize The 
 Room, And Lay Violent And Exclusive Hold On The     Spectator. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth On Returning to Her Table Found The     Library Empty. The 
 Squire Had Been Called away By His Agent And One Of     The     New 
 Officials Of     The     County, And Had Not Yet Returned. She Expected him 
 To Return In a Bad--Possibly An Outrageous Temper. For She Gathered 
 That The     Summons Had Something to Do With The     Decree Of     The     County 
 War Agricultural Committee That Fifty Acres, At Least, Of     Mannering 
 Park Were To Be Given Back To The     Plough, Which, Indeed, Had Only 
 Ceased to Possess Them Some Sixty Years Before. The     Squire Had Gone 
 Out Pale With Fury, And She Looked anxiously At Her Work, To See 
 What There Might Be In it To Form An Excuse For A Hurricane. 
   
   
   
 She Could Find Nothing, However, Likely To Displease A Sane Man. And 
 As She Was At A Standstill Till He Came Back, She Slipped an 
 Unfinished letter Out Of     Her Notebook, And Went On With It. It Was 
 To A Person Whom She Addressed as 'My Darling dick.' 
   
   
   
     'I Have Now Been Rather More Than A Month Here. You Can'T 
     Imagine What A Queer Place It Is, Nor What A Queer Employer I 
     Have Struck. There Might Be No War--As Far As Mannering is 
     Concerned. The     Squire Is Always Engaged in mopping it Out, Like 
     Mrs. Partington. He Takes No Newspaper, Except A Rag Called the 
     _Lanchester Mail_, Which Attacks The     Government, The     Army--As 
     Far As It Dare--And "Secret Diplomacy." It Comes Out About Once 
     A Week With A Black Page, Because The     Censor Has Been Sitting on 
     It. Desmond Mannering--That'S The     Gunner-Son Who Came On Leave A 
     Week Ago And Is Just Going off To An Artillery Camp--And I, 
     Conspire Through The     Butler--Who Is A Dear, And A Patriot--To 
     Get The     _Times_; But The     Squire Never Sees It. Desmond Reads It 
   
     In bed in the     Morning, I Read It In bed in the     Evening, And 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 3 Pg 56 
 Pamela Mannering, Mr. Desmond'S Twin, Comes In last Thing, In 
     Her Dressing-Gown, And Steals It. 
   
   
   
     'I Seem Indeed to Be Living in the     Heart Of     A Whirlwind, For The 
     Squire Is Fighting everybody All Round, And As He Is The     Least 
     Reticent Of     Men, And I Have To Write His Letters, I Naturally, 
     Even By Now, Know A Good Deal About Him. Shortly Put, He Is In a 
     Great Mess. The     Estate Is Riddled with Mortgages, Which It Would 
     Be Quite Easy To Reduce. For Instance, There Are Masses Of 
     Timber, Crying to Be Cut. He Consults Me Often In the     Naïvest 
     Way. You Remember That I Trained for Six Months As An 
     Accountant. I Assure You That It Comes In extremely Useful Now! 
     I Can See My Way A Little Where He Can'T See It At All. He 
     Glories In the     Fact That He Was Never Any Good At Arithmetic Or 
     Figures Of     Any Kind, And Never Looked at Either After "Smalls." 
     The     Estate Of     Course Used to Be Looked after In the     Good 
     Old-Fashioned way By The     Family Lawyers. But A Few Years Ago 
     The     Squire Quarrelled with These Gentlemen, Recovered all His 
     Papers, Which No Doubt Went Back To King alfred, And Resolved to 
     Deal With Things Himself. There Is An Office Here, And A Small 
     Attorney From Fallerton Comes Over Twice Or Three Times A Week. 
     But The     Squire Bosses It. And You Never Saw Anything like His 
     Accounts! I Have Been Trying to Put Some Of     Them Straight--Just 
     Those That Concern The     House And Garden--After Six Weeks' 
     Acquaintance! Odd, Isn'T It? He Is Like An Irritable Child With 
     Them. And His Agent, Who Is Seventy, And Bronchitic, Is The 
     Greatest Fool I Ever Saw. He Neglects Everything. _His_ Accounts 
     Too, As Far As I Have Inspected them, Are Disgraceful. He Does 
     Nothing for The     Farmers, And The     Farmers Do Exactly As They 
     Please With The     Land. 
   
   
   
     'Or Did! For Now Comes The     Rub. Government Is Interfering, 
     Through The     County Committee. They Are Turning out Three Of     Mr. 
     Mannering'S Farmers By Force, Because He Won'T Do It Himself, 
     And Ploughing up The     Park. I Believe The     Steam Tractor Comes 
     Next Week. The     Squire Has Been Employing some New Lawyers To 
     Find Out If He Can'T Stop It Somehow. And Each Time He Sees Them 
     He Comes Home Madder Than Before. 
   
   
   
     'Of Course It All Comes From A Passionate Antagonism To The     War. 
     He Is Not A Pacifist Exactly--He Is Not A Conscientious 
     Objector. He Is Just An Individualist Gone Mad--An Egotistical, 
     Hot-Tempered man, With All The     Ideas Of     The     Old _Régime_, Who 
   
     Thinks He Can Fight The     World. I Am Often Really Sorry For 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 3 Pg 57 
 Him--He Is So Preposterous. But The     Muddle And Waste Of     It All 
     Drives Me Crazy--You Know I Always Was A Managing creature. 
   
   
   
     'But One Thing is Certain--That He Is A Most Excellent Scholar. 
     I Knew I Had Got Rusty, But I Didn'T Know How Rusty Till I Came 
     To Work For Him. He Has A Wonderful Memory--Seems To Know Every 
     Greek Author By Heart--And A Most Delicate And Unerring taste. I 
     Thought I Should Find A Mere Dabbler--An Amateur. And It Takes 
     All I Know To Do The     Drudgery Work He Gives Me. And Then He Is 
     Always Coming down Upon Me. It Delights Him To Find Me Out In a 
     Howler--Makes Him, In fact, Quite Good-Tempered for Twenty 
     Minutes. 
   
   
   
     'As To The     Rest Of     The     Family, There Is A Charming boy And 
     Girl--Twins Of     Nineteen, The     Boy Just Off To An Artillery Camp 
     After His Cadet Training; The     Girl Extremely Pretty And 
     Distinguished, And So Far Inclined to Think Me An Intruder And A 
     Nuisance. How To Get Round Her I Don'T Exactly Know, But I 
     Daresay I Shall Manage It Somehow. If She Would Only Set Up A 
     Love-Affair I Could Soon Get The     Whip-Hand Of     Her! 
   
   
   
     'Then There Is The     Priceless Butler, With Whom I Have Already 
     Made Friends. I Seem To Have A Taste For Butlers, Though I'Ve 
     Never Lived with One. He Is Fifty-Two And A Volunteer, In stark 
     Opposition To The     Squire, Who Jeers At Him Perpetually. Forest 
     Takes It Calmly, Seems Even In a Queer Way To Be Attached to His 
     Queer Master. But He Never Misses A Drill For Anybody Or Any 
     Weather, And When He'S Out, The     Under-Housemaid "Buttles" For 
     Him Like A Lamb. The     Fact Is, Of     Course, That He'S Been Here For 
     Twenty Years, And The     Squire Couldn'T Get On For A Day Without 
     Him, Or Thinks He Couldn'T. So That His Position Is, As You May 
     Say, Strongly Entrenched, And Counter-Attacks Are Useless. 
   
   
   
     'The Married daughters--Mrs. Gaddesden, Who, I Think, Is An 
     Honourable, And Mrs. Strang--Are Coming to-Morrow To See Their 
     Brother Before He Goes Into Camp. The     Squire Doesn'T Want Them 
     At All. Ah, There He Comes! I'Ll Finish Later...' 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 3 Pg 58 
   
   
 The Squire Came In--To Use One Of     The     Homeric Similes Of     Which He 
 Was So Fond--'Like A Lion Fresh From A Slain Bull, Bespattered with 
 Blood And Mire.' He Had Gone Out Pale, He Returned crimson, Rubbing 
 His Hands And In great Excitement. And It Was Evident That He Had By 
 Now Formed the     Habit Of     Talking freely To His Secretary. For He Went 
 Up To Her At Once. 
   
   
   
 'Well, Now They Know What To Expect!' He Said, His Eyes Glittering, 
 And All His Thick Hair On His Small Peaked head Standing up In a 
 High Ridge, Like The     Crest Of     A Battle-Helmet. 
   
   
   
 'Who Are "They"?' Asked elizabeth, Smiling, As She Quietly Pushed 
 Her Letter A Little Further Under The     Blotting-Paper. 
   
   
   
 'The County Council Idiots--No, The     Inspector Fellow They'Re Sending 
 Round.' 
   
   
   
 'And What Did You Tell Him?' 
   
   
   
 'That I Should Resist Their Entry. The     Gates Of     The     Park Will Be 
 Locked. And My Lawyers Are Already Preparing a Case For The     High 
 Court. Well--Eh!--What?'--The Speaker Wound Up Impatiently, As 
 Though Waiting for An Immediate And Applauding response. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Was Silent. She Bent Over The     Greek Book In front Of     Her, 
 As Though Looking for Her Place. 
   
   
   
 'You Didn'T Think I Was Going to Take It Lying down!' Asked the 
 Squire, In a Raised voice. Her Silence Suggested to Him Afresh All 
 The Odious And Tyrannical Forces By Which He Felt Himself 
 Surrounded. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 3 Pg 59 
 Elizabeth Turned to Him With A Cheerful Countenance. 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T Quite Understand What "It" Means,' She Said Politely. 
   
   
   
 'Nonsense, You Do!' Was The     Angry Reply. 'That'S So Like A Woman. 
 They Always Want To Catch You Out; They Never See Things Simply And 
 Broadly. You'D Like To Make Yourself Out A Fool--[Greek: Nêpia]--And 
 You'Re Not A Fool!' 
   
   
   
 And With His Hands In his Pockets He Made Two Or Three Long Strides 
 Up To The     Nikê, At The     Further End Of     The     Room, And Back, Pulling up 
 Beside Her Again, As Though Challenging her Reply. 
   
   
   
 'I Assure You, Sir, I Wasn'T Trying to Catch You Out,' Elizabeth 
 Began In her Gentlest Voice. 
   
   
   
 'Don'T Call Me "Sir." I Won'T Have It!' Cried the     Squire, Almost 
 Stamping. 
   
   
   
 Then Elizabeth Laughed outright. 
   
   
   
 'I'M Sorry, But When I Was Working in the     War Trade Department I 
 Always Called the     Head Of     My Room "Sir."' 
   
   
   
 'That'S Because Women _Like_ Kow-Towing--[Greek: Doulosunên 
 Anechesthai]!' Said The     Squire. Then He Threw Himself Into A Chair. 
 'Now Let'S Talk Sense A Little.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth'S Attentive Look, And Lips Quivering with Amusement Which 
 She Tried in vain To Suppress, And He Was Determined not To See, 
 Showed her More Than Willing. 
   
   
   
   
 'I Suppose You Think--Like That Fellow I'Ve Just Routed--That It'S 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 3 Pg 60 
 A Uestion Of     Food Production. It Isn'T! It'S A Question Of 
 _Liberty_--_Versus_ Bondage. If We Can Only Survive As Slaves, Then 
 Wipe Us Out! That'S My View.' 
   
   
   
 'Wasn'T There A Bishop Once Who Said He Would Rather Have England 
 Free Than Sober?' Asked elizabeth. 
   
   
   
 'And A Very Sensible Man,' Growled the     Squire, 'Though In general 
 I'Ve No Use For Bishops. Now You Understand, I Hope? This Is Going 
 To Be A Test Case. I'Ll Make England Ring.' 
   
   
   
 'Are You Sure They Can'T Settle It At Once, Under The     Defence Of     The 
 Realm Act?' 
   
   
   
 'Not They!' Said The     Squire Triumphantly. 'Of Course, I'M Not 
 Putting up A Frontal Defence. I'M Outflanking them. I'M Proving that 
 This Is The     Worst Land They Could Possibly Choose. I'M Offering them 
 Something else That They Don'T Want. Meanwhile The     Gates Shall Be 
 Locked, And If Any One Or Anything breaks Them Down--My Lawyers Are 
 Ready--We Apply For An Injunction At Once.' 
   
   
   
 'And You'Re Not--Well, Nervous?' Asked miss Bremerton, With A 
 Charming air Of     Presenting something that Might Have Been 
 Overlooked. 
   
   
   
 'Nervous Of     What?' 
   
   
   
 'Isn'T The     Law--The New Law--Rather Dreadfully Strong?' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, You Think I Shall End In the     County Gaol?' Said The     Squire 
 Abruptly. 'Well, Of     Course'--He Took A Reflective Turn Up And 
 Down--'I'Ve No Particular Wish Just Now For The     County Gaol. It 
 Would Be An Infernal Nuisance--In The     Middle Of     This Book. But I 
 Mean To Give Them As Much Trouble As I Can. I'M All Right So Far.' 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 3 Pg 61 
 He Looked up Suddenly, And Caught An Expression On His Secretary'S 
 Face Which Called him To Order At Once, Though He Was Not Meant To 
 See It. Contempt?--Cold Contempt? Something like It. 
   
   
   
 The Squire Drew Himself Up. 
   
   
   
 'You'Ve Made The     Arrangements, I Suppose, For To-Morrow?' 
   
   
   
 He Spoke Curtly, As The     Master Of     The     House To A Dependent. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Meekly Replied that She Had Done Everything according to 
 His Directions. Mrs. Gaddesden Was To Have The     South Rooms. 
   
   
   
 'I Said The     East Rooms!' 
   
   
   
 'But I Thought--' Elizabeth Began, In consternation. 
   
   
   
 'You Thought Wrong,' Said The     Squire Cuttingly. 'Do Not Trouble 
 Yourself. I Will Tell Forest' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Coloured crimson, And Went On With Her Work. The     Squire 
 Rang The     Bell. But Before Forest Could Answer It, There Was A Quick 
 Step In the     Passage, And Desmond Came Bursting in. 
   
   
   
 'Pater, I Say! It'S Too Fine! You Can'T Frowst All Day At This 
 Nonsense. Come Out, And Let'S Shoot Those Roots Of     Milsom'S. He Told 
 Me Yesterday There Were Five Or Six Coveys In his Big Field Alone. 
 Of Course Everybody'S Been Poaching for All They'Re Worth. But 
 There'S Some Left. Forest'Ll Get Us Some Sandwiches. He Says He'Ll 
 Come And Load For You. His Boy And The     Garden Boy'Ll Do For 
 Beaters.' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Stood Glumly Hesitating, But With His Eye On His Son. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 3 Pg 62 
   
   
 'Look Here,' Said Desmond, 'I'Ve Only Got Two Days!' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Could Not Help Watching the     Boy--His Look At His Father, 
 The Physical Beauty And Perfection Of     Him. The     Great Victory At The 
 End Of     The     Room With Her Outstretched wings Seemed to Be Hovering 
 Above Him. 
   
   
   
 'Well, I Don'T Mind,' Said The     Squire Slowly. 
   
   
   
 Desmond Gave A Laugh Of     Triumph, Twined his Arm In that Of     His 
 Father, And Dragged him Away. 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
      'Dear Beloved dick--I Must Just Finish This Before Dinner. Oh, 
      How I Like To Think Of     You At Baghdad, With Trees And Shade, 
      And Civilized quarters Again, After All You'Ve Gone Through. 
      Have You Got My Letters, And Those Gauze Things I Sent You For 
      The     Hot Weather? They Tell Me Here They'Re Right. But How'S One 
      To Know? Meanwhile, My Dear, Here Are Your Mother And Sister On 
      Their Knees To You, Just To Be Told What You Want. Try And Want 
      Something!--There'S A Dear. 
   
   
   
      'Mother'S Fairly Well--I Mean As Well As We Can Expect After 
      Such An Illness. My Salary Here Enables Me To Give Her A Proper 
      Trained nurse, And To Send Jean To School. As To The     Rest, 
      Don'T Trouble About Me, Old Man. Sometimes I Think It Was My 
      Pride More Than Anything else That Was Hurt A Year Ago. Anyway 
      I Find In myself A Tremendous Appetite For Work. In spite Of 
      His Oddities, Mr. Mannering is A Most Stimulating critic And 
      Companion. My Work Is Interesting, And I Find Myself Steeped 
      Once More In the     Most Fascinating, The     Most Wonderful Of     All 
      Literatures! What Remains Unsatisfied in me Is The     Passion 
      Which You Know I Have Always Had For Setting things 
      Straight--Organizing, Tidying up! Not To Speak Of     Other 
      Passions--For Work Directly Connected with The     War, For 
      Instance--Which Have Had To Be Scrapped for A Time. I Can'T 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 3 Pg 63 
      Bear The     Muddle And Waste Of     This Place. It Gets On My Nerves. 
      Perhaps, If I Stay, I May Get A Chance. I Have Made A Small 
      Beginning--With The     Food. But I Won'T Bother You With It. 
   
   
   
      'Above All, I Must Try And Make Friends With The     Twins. 
      Desmond Would Be Easy, But He'S Going. Pamela Will Be More 
      Difficult. However, I Shall Do My Best. As I Have Already Said, 
      If She Would Only Set Up A Flirtation--A Nice One--That I Could 
      Aid And Abet! 
   
   
   
      'What Will The     Married sisters Be Like? Desmond And Pamela Say 
      Very Little. All I Know Is That Alice--That'S Mrs. 
      Gaddesden--Is To Have A Fire In her Room All Day, Though The 
      Weather Now Is Like July. To Judge From Her Photographs, She Is 
      Fair, Rather Pretty, Stout And Lethargic. Whereas Margaret Is 
      As Thin Almost As Her Father, And Head-Over-Ears In war 
      Charities. She Lives, Says Pamela, On Arrowroot And Oatcake, To 
      Set An Example, And Her Servants Leave Her Regularly Every 
      Month. 
   
   
   
      'Well, We Shall See. I Run On Like This, Because You Say You 
      Like To Be Gossipped to; And I Am Just A Little Lonely 
      Here--Sometimes. Good-Night, And Good-Bye.--Your Devoted 
      Sister, 
   
   
   
      'Elizabeth.' 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 4 Pg 64 
   
 'Come In!' Said Alice Gaddesden In a Languid Tone. From The     Knock, 
 Sharp And Loud, On Her Bedroom Door, She Guessed that It Was Her 
 Sister Margaret Who Wished to See Her. She Did Not Wish, However, To 
 See Margaret At All. Margaret, Who Was Slightly The     Elder, Tired and 
 Coerced her. But She Had No Choice. 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Strang Entered briskly. 
   
   
   
 'My Dear Alice! What A Time Of     Day To Be In bed! Are You Really 
 Ill?' 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Gaddesden Grew Red with Annoyance. 
   
   
   
 'I Thought I Had Told You, Margaret, That Dr. Crother Advised me 
 More Than A Year Ago Not To Come Down Till The     Middle Of     The 
 Morning. It Rests My Heart.' 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Strang, Who Had Come Up To The     Bedside, Looked down Upon Her 
 Sister With Amused eyes. She Herself Was Curiously Like The     Squire, 
 Even As To Her Hair, Which Was Thick And Fair, And Already 
 Whitening, Though She Was Not Yet Thirty. Human Thinness Could 
 Hardly Have Been Carried further Than She And The     Squire Achieved 
 It. She Had Her Father'S Nose Also. But The     Rest Of     Her Features 
 Were Delicately Regular, And Her Quick Blue Eyes Were Those Of     A 
 Woman Who Told No Falsehoods Herself, And Had Little Patience With 
 Other People'S. 
   
   
   
 'My Dear Alice, Why Do You Believe Doctors? They Always Tell You 
 What You Want To Hear. I Am Sure You Told Dr. Crother Exactly What 
 To Say,' Said Margaret, Laughing, As She Placed a Chair By The 
 Bedside. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, Of     Course I Know You Think Everybody'S A Sham Who Isn'T As 
 Strong As Yourself!' Said Mrs. Gaddesden, Sinking back On Her 
 Pillows With A Soft Sigh Of     Resignation. 'Though I Think You _Might_ 
 Have Remembered the     Horribly Hard Work I'Ve Been Doing lately.' 
   
   
   
 'Have You?' Mrs. Strang Wrinkled her Brow, As Though In an Effort To 
 Recollect. 'Oh, Yes, I Know. I Have Always Been Getting notices 
 Lately With Your Name On Them, At The     End Of     A Long Tail Beginning 
 With A Duchess, And Stuffed with Countesses. And I Always 
   
 Think--There'S Alice Doing the     Work, And The     Countesses Getting the 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 4 Pg 65 
 Glory. Do You Really Do The     Work?' 
   
   
   
 And Margaret, Who Did Not Often See Her Sister, And Was Of     A 
 Genuinely Inquiring turn Of     Mind, Turned upon Her A Penetrating 
 Look. 
   
   
   
 'Well, Of     Course,' Said Mrs. Gaddesden, A Little Confused, 'There 
 Are Always The     Secretaries.' 
   
   
   
 'Ah-Ha!' Mrs. Strang Laughed--One Might Almost Say Crowed. 'Yes, 
 Indeed, If It Weren'T For The     Secretaries! By The     Way, What Do You 
 Think About The     Specimen Here?' 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Gaddesden Lost Her Languid Air At Once. She Sat Up Among Her 
 Pillows, A Reasonably Pretty Woman, Not Without Some Likeness To 
 Pamela, In points That Did Not Matter. 
   
   
   
 'My Dear Margaret,' She Said, With Emphasis, 'This Has Got To Be 
 Watched!--_Watched_, I Tell You.' 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Strang Opened her Eyes Wide. 
   
   
   
 'What On Earth Do You Mean?' 
   
   
   
 Alice Gaddesden Smiled. 
   
   
   
 'Well, Of     Course, You'Re Much Cleverer Than I Am, But I Really Do 
 See Further In practical Matters Than You Do. Haven'T You Noticed,' 
 She Bent Forward, Looking mysterious And Intent, 'How _Already_ 
 Father Depends Upon Her, How She'S Beginning to Run The     Whole 
 Show--And She Hasn'T Been Here Much More Than Six Weeks? My Dear 
 Margaret, With A Secretary Like That You _Never_ Can Tell!' 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 4 Pg 66 
 'Well,' Said Mrs. Strang Coolly, 'And What Then?' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, Well, Of     Course, If You'Re Prepared to See A Person Like 
 That--In Our Mother'S Place!' 
   
   
   
 '"A Person Like That"--How Dreadfully Old-Fashioned you Are, Alice! 
 She'S A Lady; She'S Much More Highly Educated than You Or I, And If 
 She Gets Her Way, She'Ll Perhaps Keep Father Out Of     Some Of     The 
 Scrapes He Seems Bent On. You Know This Business Of     The     Park Is 
 Perfectly Mad!' 
   
   
   
 For The     First Time In this Conversation Margaret Strang'S Face Was 
 Grave. And When It Was Grave, Some People Would Have Called it Fine. 
   
   
   
 'And Just Think What It'Ll Cost,' Said Mrs. Gaddesden Despondently, 
 'Even If He Had A Case--Which He Probably Hasn'T--And If He Were To 
 Win It. There'Ll Be No Money Left For Aubrey Or Any Of     Us Soon.' 
   
   
   
 'But Of     Course He Hasn'T A Case, And Of     Course He Can'T Win!' Cried 
 Margaret Strang. 'It'S Not That I Care About--Or The     Money--It'S The 
 Disgrace!' 
   
   
   
 'Yes,' Murmured alice Doubtfully. 
   
   
   
 'When You Think--' 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Strang Paused; Her Bright Blue Eyes, Alive With Thoughts, Were 
 Fixed absently On Her Sister. She Seemed to See A Number Of     Shabby 
 Streets, Where She Was Accustomed to Work, With Little Shabby Shops, 
 And Placards On Them--'No Butter,' 'No Milk,' And Apples Marked 4D. 
 Each. 
   
   
   
 'Think What?' Said Alice. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 4 Pg 67 
   
 Mrs. Strang'S Mind Returned to Alice, And Alice'S Very Elaborate And 
 Becoming _Negligée_. 
   
   
   
 'Only That, In my Opinion, It'S The     Duty Of     Every Landowner To 
 Produce Every Ounce Of     Food He Can, And To Do What He'S Told! And 
 Father Not Only Sets A Shocking example, But He Picks This Absurd 
 Quarrel With The     Chicksands. What On Earth Is Aubrey To Do? Or Poor 
 Beryl?' 
   
   
   
 'Well, He Comes To-Night,' Said Alice, 'So I Suppose We Shall Hear. 
 I Can'T Make Aubrey Out,' She Added reflectively. 
   
   
   
 'Nobody Can. I Was Talking to A Brother-Officer Of     His Last Week, A 
 Man Who'S Awfully Fond Of     Him. He Told Me Aubrey Did His Work Very 
 Well. He Was Complimented by Headquarters On His School Only Last 
 Month. But He'S Like An Automaton. Nobody Really Knows Him, Nobody 
 Gets Any Forwarder With Him. He Hardly Speaks To Anybody Except On 
 Business. The     Mess Regard Him As A Wet Blanket, And His Men Don'T 
 Care About Him, Though He'S A Capital Officer. Isn'T It Strange, 
 When One Thinks Of     What Aubrey Used to Be Five Years Ago?' 
   
   
   
 Alice Agreed. Perhaps He Was Still Suffering from The     Effects Of     His 
 Wound In 1915. 
   
   
   
 'Anyway He Can'T Give Beryl Up,' Said Margaret With Energy, 'If He'S 
 A Man Of     Honour!' 
   
   
   
 Alice Shrugged her Shoulders. 
   
   
   
 'Then He'Ll Give Up The     Estate, According to Father.' 
   
   
   
 'Desmond Would Give It Back To Him, If There'S Anything left Of     It, 
 Or If He Wants It.' 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 4 Pg 68 
 'Margaret!' 
   
   
   
 'You Think I Don'T Care About The     Family--That There Should Always 
 Be A Mannering of     Mannering? Yes, I Do Care, But There Are So Many 
 Other Things Now To Care About,' Added mrs. Strang Slowly. 
   
   
   
 'Who'S Making me Late Now?' Said Alice, Looking at Her Watch. 
   
   
   
 Margaret Took The     Hint And Departed. 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 That Same Evening, In the     September Dusk, A Dog-Cart Arrived at The 
 Hall, Bringing major Mannering and A Gladstone Bag. 
   
   
   
 Pamela And Desmond Rushed out To Meet Him. Their Elder Sisters Were 
 Dressing for Dinner, And The     Squire Was In the     Library With 
 Elizabeth. The     Twins Dragged the     Newcomer Into Their Own Den, And 
 Shut The     Door Upon Him. There Desmond Gave Him A Breathless Survey 
 Of The     Situation, While Pamela Sat On A Stool At His Feet, And Put 
 In Explanatory Words At Intervals. Their Father'S Extraordinary 
 Preparations For Waging war Against The     County Committee; His 
 Violence On The     Subject Of     The     Chicksands; Beryl'S Despairing 
 Letters To Pamela; A Letter From Arthur Chicksands To Desmond,--All 
 These Various Items Were Poured out On The     Newcomer, With An 
 Eagerness And Heat Which Showed the     Extreme Interest Which The     Twins 
 Took In the     Situation. 
   
   
   
 Meanwhile Aubrey Mannering sat Listening almost In silence. He Was A 
 Delicately Built, Distinguished-Looking man, Who Carried a Large 
 Scar On His Forehead, And Had Lost A Finger Of     The     Left Hand. The 
 Ribbons On His Breast Showed that He Was Both An M.C. And A 
 D.S.O.--Distinctions Won At The     Second Battle Of     Ypres And On The 
 Somme. While The     Twins Talked, His Eyes Travelled from One To The 
 Other, Attentive, But Curiously Aloof. 
   
   
   
   
 He Was Saying to Himself That Pamela Was Extremely Pretty, And 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 4 Pg 69 
 Desmond A Splendid Fellow. Then--In A Moment--While He Looked at His 
 Young Brother, A Vision, Insistent, Terrible, Passed ghost-Like 
 Between Him And The     Boy. Again And Again He Tried to Shake It Off, 
 And Again And Again It Interposed. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, Aubrey, What Will You Do?' Said Pamela Despairingly, Leaning 
 Her Head Against Her Brother'S Knee. 
   
   
   
 Her Voice Recalled him. He Laid His Hand Upon Her Beautiful Hair. 
   
   
   
 'Well, Dear, There'S Only One Thing, Of     Course, For Me To Do--To 
 Stick To Beryl And Let Father Do His Worst.' 
   
   
   
 'Hurrah!' Said Desmond. 'That'S All Right. And Of     Course You Know, 
 Aubrey, That If Father Tries Any Hankey-Pankey With The     Estate, And 
 Leaves It To Me, I Shall Give It Back To You Next Day.' 
   
   
   
 Aubrey Smiled. 'Father'Ll Live Another Twenty Years, Old Man. Will 
 There Be Any England Then, Or Any Law, Or Any Estates To Leave?' 
   
   
   
 The Twins Looked at Him In amazement. Again He Recovered himself 
 Quickly. 
   
   
   
 'I Only Meant That, In times Like These, It'S No Good Planning 
 Anything twenty Years Ahead. We'Ve Got To Win The     War, Haven'T 
 We?--That'S The     First Thing. Well, Now, I Must Go And Clean Up. 
 Who'S Here?' 
   
   
   
 'Alice And Margaret,' Said Pamela. 'And Father'S New Secretary.' 
   
   
   
 'You Never Told Me About Him,' Said Aubrey Indifferently, As He 
 Rose. 
   
   
   
 '"Him" Indeed!' Laughed desmond. 'Nothing of     The     Sort 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 4 Pg 70 
   
   
 Aubrey Turned a Puzzled look Upon Him. 
   
   
   
 'What! A Lady?' 
   
   
   
 Desmond Grinned. 
   
   
   
 'First Class In mods, And An Awful Swell. Father Can'T Let Her Out 
 Of His Sight. Says He Never Had Anybody So Good.' 
   
   
   
 'And She'Ll End By Bossing us All,' Put In pamela. 'She'S Begun It 
 Already. Now You Really Must Go And Dress.' 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 When The     Eldest Son Of     The     House Entered the     Drawing-Room, He Found 
 Everybody Gathered there But His Father And The     Rector, Who Was 
 Coming to Dine. He Was At Once Seized on By His Married sisters, Who 
 Saw Him Very Rarely. Then Pamela Led him Up To A Tall Lady In pale 
 Blue. 
   
   
   
 'My Eldest Brother--Miss Bremerton.' 
   
   
   
 He Looked at Her With Curiosity, And Was Glad When, After The 
 Arrival Of     His Father And The     Rector, It Fell To Him To Take The     New 
 Secretary In to Dinner. His Father'S Greeting to Him Had Been 
 Decidedly Cool--The Greeting of     A Man Who Sees A Fight Impending and 
 Wishes To Give Away Nothing to His Opponent. In fact The     Two Men Had 
 Never Been On Really Cordial Terms Since August 1914, When Aubrey 
 Had Thrown Up His Post In the     Foreign Office To Apply For One Of     The 
 First Temporary Commissions In the     New Army. The     News Came At A 
   
 Moment When The     Squire Was Smarting under The     Breakdown Of     A 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 4 Pg 71 
 Long-Cherished scheme Of     Exploration In the     Greek Islands, Which Was 
 To Have Been Realized that Very Autumn--A Scheme Towards Which His 
 Whole Narrow Impetuous Mind Had Been Turned for Years. No More 
 Hellenic Or Asia Minor Excavations! No More Cosmopolitan 
 _Wissenschaft_! On That Fatal August 4 A Whole World Went Down 
 Submerged beneath The     Waves Of     War, And The     Squire Cared for No 
 Other. His Personal Chagrin Showed itself In abuse Of     The     Bungling 
 Diplomats And 'Swashbuckler' Politicians Who, According to Him, Had 
 Brought Us Into War. So That When Aubrey Applied for A Commission, 
 The Squire, Mainly To Relieve His Own General Irritation, Had 
 Quarrelled with Him For Some Months, And Was Only Outwardly 
 Reconciled when His Son Came Home Invalided in 1915. 
   
   
   
 During the     Summer Of     1917, Aubrey, After Spending three Days' Leave 
 At Mannering, Had Gone On To Stay At Chetworth With The     Chicksands 
 For A Week. The     Result Of     That Visit Was A Letter To His Father In 
 Which He Announced his Engagement To Beryl. The     Squire Could Make 
 Then No Open Opposition, Since He Was Still On Friendly Terms With 
 Sir Henry, Who Had Indeed done Him More Than One Good Turn. But In 
 Reply To His Son'S Letter, He Stood Entirely On The     Defensive, Lest 
 Any Claim Should Be Made Upon Him Which Might Further Interfere With 
 The Passion Of     His Life. He Was Not, He Said, In a Position To 
 Increase Aubrey'S Allowance--The Government Robbers Had Seen To 
 That--And Unless Beryl Was Prepared to Be A Poor Man'S Wife He 
 Advised them To Wait Till After The     War. Then Sir Henry Had Ridden 
 Over To Mannering with A Statement Of     What He Was Prepared to Do For 
 His Daughter, And The     Squire Had Given Ungracious Consent To A 
 Marriage In the     Spring. Chicksands Knew His Man Too Well To Take 
 Offence At The     Squire'S Manners, And Beryl Was For A Time Too 
 Timidly And Blissfully Happy To Be Troubled by Them. 
   
   
   
 'You Have Been Here A Few Weeks,' Said The     Newcomer To Elizabeth, 
 When The     Party Had Settled down At Table. 
   
   
   
 'About Six Weeks. It Seems Longer!' Smiled elizabeth. 
   
   
   
 'You Are Doing some Work For My Father?' 
   
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Explained herself. Major Mannering listened attentively. 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 4 Pg 72 
   
   
 'So What You Do For Him Is Literary--And Historical?' 
   
   
   
 'Oh No--I Do Accounts, And Write Letters Too.' 
   
   
   
 'Accounts? I Thought There Was A Housekeeper?' 
   
   
   
 'She Went A Month Ago To The     W.A.A.C.'S. Please!--Do You Mind?' And 
 To His Amazement, As He Was Putting out His Hand Automatically To A 
 Piece Of     Bread Lying on His Left, Miss Bremerton'S Hand Holding a 
 Fork Neatly Intercepted him, And Moved the     Bread Away. 
   
   
   
 'It'S Our "Self-Denying ordinance,"' Explained the     Lady, Colouring a 
 Little. 'The Bread Appears Because--Because Your Father Doesn'T 
 Think Rations Necessary. But No One Touches It, And Forest Collects 
 It Afterwards--For Breakfast.' 
   
   
   
 A Smile Broke On Aubrey'S Grave And Pensive Face. 
   
   
   
 'I See. Mayn'T I Really Have Any?' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Hesitated. 
   
   
   
 'Well, Perhaps, As A Guest, And A Soldier. Yes, I Think You May.' 
 And She Would Have Restored her Prey Had Not Her Neighbour Stopped 
 Her. 
   
   
   
 'Not At All. As A Soldier I Obey Orders. My Hat! How You'Ve Drilled 
 Them All!' For, Looking round The     Table, He Saw That Not A Single 
 Guest Had Touched the     Bread Lying to Their Left. 
   
   
   
   
 'That'S Pamela And Mr. Desmond! They'Ve Given Everybody A _Menu_ For 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 4 Pg 73 
 Three Days.' 
   
   
   
 'Good Heavens--Not My Father!' 
   
   
   
 'Oh No, _No_! We Don'T Think He Suspects Anything, And He Has 
 Everything he Likes.' 
   
   
   
 'And My Married sisters?' Elizabeth Hesitated again. 
   
   
   
 'Well, Mrs. Gaddesden Is Rather Afraid Of     Being starved. Mrs. 
 Strang, On The     Other Hand, Thinks We'Re Wickedly Extravagant!' 
   
   
   
 Her Neighbour Was So Much Amused that Conversation Flowed on Easily 
 Thenceforward; And Desmond Opposite Whispered to Pamela: 
   
   
   
 'Just Look At Broomie! She'S Actually Making aubrey Talk.' 
   
   
   
 The Major'S Rôle, However, Was On The     Whole That Of     Listener. For 
 Elizabeth Meant To Talk--Meant To Explain Herself To The     Son And 
 Heir, And, If She Could, To Drive Him To An Interest In the     Family 
 Affairs. To Her Trained, Practical Mind The     Whole Clan Seemed by Now 
 Criminally Careless And Happy-Go-Lucky. The     Gardens Were Neglected; 
 So Was The     House; So Was The     Estate. The     Gardens Ought To Have Been 
 Made Self-Supporting; There Were At Least A Third Too Many Servants 
 In The     House; And As For The     Estate, Instead Of     Being a 
 Profit-Making and Food-Producing concern, As It Should Have Been, It 
 Was A Bye-Word For Bad Management And Neglected land. She Did Not 
 Pretend To Know Much About It Yet; But What She Did Know Roused her. 
 England Was At Grips With A Brutal Foe. The     Only Weapon That Could 
 Defeat Her Was Famine--The Sloth And Waste Of     Her Own Sons. This 
 Woman, Able, Energetic, A Lover Of     Her Country, Could Not Conceal 
 Her Scorn For Such A Fatal Incompetence. Naturally, In talking to 
 The Eldest Son, She Made The     Agent Her Scapegoat For The     Sins Of     The 
 Owner. The     Squire'S Responsibility Was Carefully Masked. But Aubrey 
 Mannering perfectly Understood What She Would Be At. She Was A 
 Clever Woman Who Wanted things Improved. Well, Let Her Improve 
 Them. It Did Not Matter To Him. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 4 Pg 74 
   
   
 But She Appeared to Him As A Somewhat Special Type Of     The     Modern 
 Woman, With Her Advanced education And Her Clear Brain; And For A 
 Time He Observed her Curiously. The     Graceful Dress, Pale Blue With 
 Touches Of     Black, Which Exactly Became Her Fair Skin, The     Bright 
 Gold Of     Her Hair, And The     Pleasant Homeliness Of     Her Face--Her 
 General Aspect Indeed--Attracted him Greatly. She Might Know Greek; 
 At Heart, He Believed, She Was A Good Housewife; And When She 
 Incidentally Mentioned dutch Relations, He Seemed to See Her With A 
 Background Of     Bright Pots And Pans, Mopping tiled floors. 
   
   
   
 But Presently He Ceased to Pay Much Attention To Her. His Dreamy 
 Sense Became Aware Of     The     Scene As A Whole; The     Long Table; His 
 Father'S Fantastic Figure At The     Head Of     It; Alice Gaddesden 
 Elaborately Dressed and Much Made Up On The     One Side, His Sister 
 Margaret In a High Black Gown, Erect And Honest, On The     Other; 
 Desmond And Pamela Together, Chatting and Chaffing with The     Rector. 
 It Was The     Room So Familiar To His Childhood And Youth, With The 
 Family Pictures, The     Gainsborough Full-Length Of     His Very Plain 
 Great-Grandmother In white Satin At The     End, Two Or Three Vandyck 
 School-Portraits Of     Seventeenth-Century Mannerings, And The 
 Beautiful Hogarth Head--Their Best Possession--That Was So Like 
 Pamela. The     Furniture Of     The     Room Was Of     Many Different 
 Dates--Incongruous, Shabby, And On The     Whole Ugly. The     Mannerings Of 
 The Past Had Not Been An Artistic Lot. 
   
   
   
 Nor Had The     Room--The House Indeed--Many Tender Associations For 
 Him. His Childhood Had Not Been Very Happy. He Had Never Got On With 
 His Father, And His Mother, Who Had Been The     Victim Of     Various Long 
 Illnesses During his Boyhood, Had Never, Unluckily, Meant Much To 
 Him. He Knew That He Was Of     A Very Old Stock, Which Had Played a 
 Long And Considerable Part In the     World; But The     Fact Brought Him No 
 Thrill. 'That Kind Of     Thing is Played out,' He Thought. Let His 
 Father Disinherit Him--He Was Quite Indifferent. 
   
   
   
 Then, As He Fell Silent Beside His Father'S New Secretary, The     Table 
 Vanished. He Saw Instead The     Wide Picardy Flats, A Group Of     Poplars, 
 A Distant Wood, And In front A Certain Hollow Strewn With Dead And 
 Dying men--One Figure, In front Of     The     Rest, Lying face Downwards. 
   
 The Queer Twisted forms, The     Blasted trees, The     Inexorable 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 4 Pg 75 
 Horror--The Whole Vision Swept Over Him Again, As It Had Done In the 
 Schoolroom. His Nerves Shrank And Trembled under It. 
   
   
   
 Beryl--Poor Little Beryl! What A Wretch He Had Been To Propose To 
 Her--In A Moment Of     Moral And Physical Weakness, When It Had Seemed 
 A Simple Thing to Accept Her Affection And To Pledge His Own! But If 
 She Stood By Him, He Must Stand By Her. And He Had Had The     Kindest 
 Letter From Sir Henry, And Some Sweet Tremulous Words From Her. 
 Suppose She Offered to Release Him? His Heart Leapt Guiltily At The 
 Thought. What, Indeed, Had A Man So Haunted and Paralysed to Give To 
 A Girl Like Beryl? It Was An Outrage--It Ought To Cease. 
   
   
   
 But As To His Father, That Was Simple Enough. 
   
   
   
 The Squire And His Eldest Son Retreated to The     Library After Dinner, 
 And All The     Rest Of     The     Party Waited uneasily To See What Would 
 Happen. Elizabeth Did Her Best To Keep Things Going. It Might Have 
 Been Noticed--It Was Noticed by At Least Two Of     The     Persons 
 Present--That Quite Unobtrusively, She Was Already The     Mistress Of 
 The House. She Found A Stool And A Fire-Screen For Mrs. Gaddesden; 
 She Held Some Wool For Mrs. Strang To Wind; And A Backgammon Board 
 Was Made Ready For The     Squire, In case He Returned. 
   
   
   
 But He Did Not Return. Aubrey Came Back Alone, And Found Them All 
 Hanging on His Entrance. Pamela Put Down Her Knitting and Looked at 
 Him Anxiously; So Did The     Elder Sisters. He Went Up Absently To The 
 Chimney-Piece, And Stood Leaning against It. 
   
   
   
 'Well?' Said Pamela In a Low Voice, As She Came To Sit On A Stool 
 Near Him. 
   
   
   
 He Smiled, But She Saw That He Was Pale. 
   
   
   
 'Can You Take Me Over To Chetworth To-Morrow--Early--In The 
 Pony-Cart?' 
   
   
   
   
 'Yes, Certainly.' 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 4 Pg 76 
   
 'Half-Past Ten?' 
   
   
   
 'Right You Are.' 
   
   
   
 No More Was Said. Aubrey Turned at Once To Alice Gaddesden And 
 Proposed a Round Game. He Played it With Much More Spirit Than 
 Usual, And Desmond'S Antics In 'Animal Grab' Put All Serious Notions 
 To Flight. 
   
   
   
 But When The     Game Was Over, And Forest Brought In the     Candles, 
 Margaret Tried to Get Some Information. 
   
   
   
 'You Found The     Father Reasonable?' She Said To Her Brother In an 
 Undertone, As They Stood Together By The     Fire. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, Yes,' Was The     Indifferent Answer, 'From His Own Point Of     View.' 
   
   
   
 And When He Had Lit Their Candles For His Sisters, He Excused 
 Himself At Once On The     Ground Of     Being dog-Tired after A Long Day. 
 The Door Closed upon Him. 
   
   
   
 The Family Gathered together In a Group, While The     Rector And 
 Elizabeth Talked about The     Village At The     Further End Of     The     Room. 
   
   
   
 'They'Ve Quarrelled!' Said Margaret Decisively. 
   
   
   
 Alice Gaddesden, Because It Was Margaret'S Opinion, Disagreed. There 
 Was Nothing to Show It, She Said. Aubrey Had Been Quite Calm. 
 Desmond Broke Out, 'Did You Ever See Aubrey Anything else?' Pamela 
   
 Said Nothing, But She Slipped out To Tell Forest About The 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 4 Pg 77 
 Pony-Cart. 
   
   
   
 Meanwhile The     Rector Had Looked at His Watch, And Came Up To Take 
 His Leave. 
   
   
   
 'Has The     Squire Gone To Bed?' He Said Cheerfully. 'I Daresay. He 
 Works So Hard. Give Him My Fare-Wells.' 
   
   
   
 And He Went Off, Quite Aware, Both From His Knowledge Of     The     Family 
 And Of     The     Squire'S Recent Actions, That There Were Storms Brewing 
 In The     Old House, But On The     Whole Thinking more Of     The     New 
 Secretary Than Of     His Old Friends. A Charming woman!--Most Capable! 
 For The     First Time He Might Get Some Attention Paid To The     Village 
 People. That Child With The     Shocking bow-Legs. Poor Little Pamela 
 Had Tried to Do Her Best. But This Woman Would See To It; She Knew 
 How To Get Things Done. 
   
   
   
 Meanwhile, As The     Rest Of     The     Party Dispersed, Forest Brought A 
 Message To Elizabeth. 'The Squire Would Be Glad If You Would Spare 
 Him A Few Minutes, Miss, In the     Library. He Won'T Keep You Long.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Went Unwillingly. 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 The Library Was In darkness, Except For One Small Lamp At The 
 Further End, And The     Squire Was Walking up And Down. He Stopped 
 Abruptly As He Saw His Secretary. 
   
   
   
 'I Won'T Keep You, Miss Bremerton, But Do You Happen To Know At All 
 Where My Will Is?' 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 4 Pg 78 
   
 'Your Will, Mr. Mannering?' Said Elizabeth In amazement. 'No, 
 Indeed! I Have Never Seen It.' 
   
   
   
 'Well, It'S Somewhere Here,' Said The     Squire Impatiently. 'I Should 
 Have Thought In all Your Rummagings Lately You Must Have Come Across 
 It. I Took It Away From Those Robbers, My Old Solicitors, And I 
 Wasn'T Going to Give It To The     New Man--Don'T Trust Him Particularly 
 Not To Talk. So I Locked it Up Here--Somewhere. And I Can'T Find 
 It.' And He Began Restlessly To Open Drawer After Drawer, Which 
 Already Contained piles Of     Letters And Documents, Neatly And 
 Systematically Arranged, With The     Proper Dockets And Sub-Headings, 
 By Elizabeth. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, It Can'T Be There!' Cried elizabeth. 'I Know Everything in 
 Those Drawers. Surely It Must Be In the     Office?' By Which She Meant 
 The Small And Hideously Untidy Room On The     Ground Floor Into Which 
 Masses Of     Papers Of     All Dates, Still Unsorted, Had Been Carted down 
 From London. 
   
   
   
 'It Isn'T In the     Office!' He Was, She Saw, On The     Brink Of     An 
 Outburst. 'I Put It Somewhere In this Room My Own Self! And I Should 
 Have Thought By Now You Knew The     Geography Of     This Place As Well As 
 I Do!' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Raised her Eyebrows, But Said Nothing. The     Big Room Indeed 
 Was Still Full To Her Of     Unexplored territory, With _Caches_ Of     All 
 Kinds In it, New And Ancient, Waiting to Be Discovered. She Looked 
 Round Her In perplexity, Not Knowing where To Begin. A Large Part Of 
 The Room Was Walled with Glass Cases, Holding vases, Bronzes, And 
 Other Small Antiquities, Down To About A Yard From The     Floor, And 
 The Space Below Being filled by Cupboards And Drawers. Elizabeth 
 Made A Vague Movement Towards A Particular Set Of     Cupboards Which 
 She Knew She Had Not Yet Touched, But The     Squire Irritably Stopped 
 Her. 
   
   
   
 'It'S Certainly Not There. That Bit Of     The     Room Hasn'T Been 
 Disturbed since The     Flood! Now Those Drawers'--He Pointed--'Might Be 
 Worth Looking at.' 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 4 Pg 79 
   
 She Hurried towards Them. But The     Squire, Instead Of     Helping her In 
 Her Search, Resumed his Walk Up And Down, Muttering to Himself. As 
 For Her, She Was On The     Verge Of     Laughter, The     Laughter That Comes 
 From Nerves And Fatigue; For She Had Had A Long Day'S Work And Was 
 Really Tired. The     First Drawer She Opened was Packed with Papers, A 
 Few Arranged in something like Order By Her Predecessor, The     London 
 University B.A., But The     Greater Part Of     Them In confusion. They 
 Mostly Related to A Violent Controversy Between The     Squire And 
 Various Archæological Experts With Regard To Some Finds In the     Troad 
 A Year Or Two Before The     War, In which The     Squire Had Only Just 
 Escaped a Serious Libel Suit, Whereof Indeed all The     Preliminaries 
 Were In the     Drawer. 
   
   
   
 On The     Very Top Of     The     Drawer, However, Was A Conveyance Of     A Small 
 Outlying portion Of     The     Mannering estate, Which The     Squire Had Sold 
 To A Neighbour Only A Year Before This Date. Hopeless! If That Was 
 There, Anything might Be Anywhere! 
   
   
   
 Was She To Spend The     Night Searching for The     Needle In this Bottle 
 Of Hay? Elizabeth'S Face Began To Twitch With Uncomfortable 
 Merriment. Should She Go And Knock Up The     Housekeeper And Instal Her 
 As Chaperon, Or Take A Stand, And Insist On Going to Bed like A 
 Reasonable Woman? 
   
   
   
 She Hunted through Three Drawers. The     Squire Meanwhile Paced 
 Incessantly, Sometimes Muttering to Himself. Every Time He Came 
 Within The     Circle Of     Lamplight His Face Was Visible To Elizabeth, 
 Wrinkled and Set, With Angry Eyes; And She Saw Him As A Person 
 Possessed by A Stubborn Demon Of     Self-Will. Once, As He Passed her, 
 She Heard Him Say To Himself, 'Of Course I Can Write Another At 
 Once--Half A Sheet Will Do.' 
   
   
   
 She Replaced the     Third Drawer. Was The     Squire To Have A Monopoly Of 
 Stubbornness? She Thought Not. Waves Of     Indefinite But Strong 
 Indignation Were Beginning to Sweep Through Her. Why Was The     Squire 
 Hunting for His Will? What Had He Been Saying to His Son--His Son 
 Who Bore On His Breast And On His Body The     Marks Of     His Country'S 
 Service? 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 4 Pg 80 
   
   
 She Rose To Her Feet. 
   
   
   
 'I Can'T Find Anything, Mr. Mannering. And I Think, If You Will 
 Allow Me, I Will Go To Bed.' 
   
   
   
 He Looked at Her Darkly. 
   
   
   
 'I See. You Are A Person Who Stickles For Your Hours--You Won'T Do 
 Anything extra For Me.' There Was A Sneer In his Tone. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Felt Her Cheeks Suddenly Burn. In the     Dim Light She Looked 
 Amazingly Tall, As She Stood Straightened to Her Full Height, 
 Confronting this Man Who Really Seemed to Her To Be Only Half Sane. 
   
   
   
 'I Think I Have Done A Great Deal For You, Mr. Mannering. But If You 
 Don'T Think So We Had Better End My Engagement!' 
   
   
   
 His Countenance Changed at Once. He Eagerly Apologized. He Was 
 Perfectly Aware Of     Her Extraordinary Merits, And Should Be Entirely 
 Lost Without Her Help. The     Fact Was He Had Had A Painful Scene, And 
 Was Overdone. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Received his Explanation Very Coldly, Only Repeating, 'May 
 I Go To Bed?' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Drew His Hand Across His Eyes. 
   
   
   
 'It Is Not Very Late--Not Yet Eleven.' He Pointed to The     Grandfather 
 Clock Opposite. 'If You Will Only Wait While I Write Something?'--He 
 Pointed to A Chair. 'Just Take A Book There, And Give Me A Quarter 
 Of An Hour, No More--I Want Your Signature, That'S All. We Won'T 
 Look Any Further For The     Will. I Can Do All I Want By A Fresh 
 Document. I Have Been Thinking it Over, And Can Write It In ten 
 Minutes. I Know As Much About It As The     Lawyers--More. Now Do Oblige 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 4 Pg 81 
 Me. I Am Ashamed of     My Discourtesy. I Need not Say That I Regard You 
 As Indispensable--And--I Think I Have Been Able To Do Something for 
 Your Greek.' 
   
   
   
 He Smiled--A Smile That Was Like A Foam-Flake On A Stormy Sea. But 
 He Could Put On The     Grand Manner When He Chose, And Elizabeth Was To 
 Some Extent Propitiated. After All He And His Ways Were No Longer 
 Strange To Her. Very Unwillingly She Seated herself Again, And He 
 Went Rapidly To His Writing-Table. 
   
   
   
 Then Silence Fell, Except For The     Scratching of     The     Squire'S Pen. 
 Elizabeth Sat Pretending to Read, But In truth Becoming every Moment 
 The Prey Of     Increasing disquiet. What Was He Going to Ask Her To 
 Sign? She Knew Nothing of     His Threat To His Eldest Son--Nothing, 
 That Is, Clear Or Direct, Either From Himself Or From The     Others; 
 But She Guessed a Good Deal. It Was Impossible To Live Even For A 
 Few Weeks In close Contact With The     Squire Without Guessing at Most 
 Things. 
   
   
   
 In The     Silence She Became Aware Of     The     Soft Autumn Wind--October 
 Had Just Begun--Playing with A Blind On A Distant Window. And 
 Through The     Window Came Another Sound--Desmond And Pamela, No Doubt, 
 Still Laughing and Talking in the     Schoolroom. 
   
   
   
 The Squire Rose From His Seat. 
   
   
   
 'I Shall Be Much Obliged,' He Said Formally, 'If You Will Kindly 
 Come Here. We Shall Want Another Witness, Of     Course. I Will Call 
 Forest.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Approached, But Paused a Yard Or Two From Him. He Saw Her 
 In The     Light--Her Gold Hair And Brilliant Dress Illuminated against 
 The Dark And Splendid Background Of     The     Nikê In shadow. 
   
   
   
 She Spoke With Hesitation. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 4 Pg 82 
 'I Confess I Should Like To Know, Mr. Mannering, What It Is You Are 
 Asking me To Sign.' 
   
   
   
 'That Doesn'T Matter To A Witness. It Is Nothing which Will In any 
 Way Compromise You.' 
   
   
   
 'No--But'--She Drew Herself Up--'I Should Blame Myself If I Made It 
 Easier For You To Do Something you Would Afterwards Regret.' 
   
   
   
 'What Do You Mean?' 
   
   
   
 She Summoned all Her Courage. 
   
   
   
 'Of Course I Must Know Something. You Have Not Kept Your Affairs 
 Very Secret. I Guess That You Are Angry With Your Son, With Major 
 Mannering. If This Thing you Ask Me To Sign Is To Hurt--To Injure 
 Him--If It Is--Well, Then--I Refuse To Sign It!' 
   
   
   
 And With A Sudden Movement She Threw Both Her Hands Behind Her Back 
 And Clasped them There. 
   
   
   
 'You Refuse?' 
   
   
   
 'If You Admit My Description Of     That Paper.' She Motioned towards It 
 As It Lay On The     Writing-Table. 
   
   
   
 'I Have No Objection Whatever To Your Knowing what It Is--As You 
 Seem Determined to Know,' He Said Sarcastically. 'It Is A Codicil 
 Revoking my Will In favour Of     My Eldest Son, And Leaving all The 
 Property Of     Which I Die Possessed, And Which Is In my Power To 
 Bequeath, To My Younger Son Desmond. What Have You To Do With That? 
 What Possible Responsibility Can You Have?' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Wavered, But Held Her Ground, Though In evident Distress 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 4 Pg 83 
   
   
   
 'Only That--If I Don'T Sign It--You Would Have Time To Consider It 
 Again. Mr. Mannering--Isn'T It--Isn'T It--Very Unjust?' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Laughed. 
   
   
   
 'How Do You Know That In refusing you Are Not Unjust To Desmond?' 
   
   
   
 'Oh No!' She Said Fervently. 'Mr. Desmond Would Never Wish To 
 Supplant His Brother--And For Such A Reason. And Especially--' She 
 Paused. 
   
   
   
 There Were Tears Rising in her Throat. 
   
   
   
 'Especially--What? Upon My Word, You Claim A Rather Remarkable 
 Knowledge Of     My Family--In Six Weeks!' 
   
   
   
 'I Do Know Something of     Desmond!' Her Voice Showed her Agitation. 
 'He Is The     Dearest, The     Most Generous Boy. In a Few Months He Will 
 Be Going out--He Will Be Saying good-Bye To You All.' 
   
   
   
 'And Then?' 
   
   
   
 'Is This A Time To Make Him Unhappy--To Send Him Out With Something 
 On His Mind?--Something that Might Even--' 
   
   
   
 'Well, Go On!' 
   
   
   
 'Might Even Make Him Wish'--Her Voice Dropped--'Not To Come Back.' 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 4 Pg 84 
   
 There Was Silence. Then The     Squire Violently Threw Down The     Pen He 
 Was Holding on The     Table Beside Him. 
   
   
   
 'Thank You, Miss Bremerton. That Will Do. I Bid You Good-Night!' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Did Not Wait To Be Told Twice. She Turned and Fled down 
 The Whole Length Of     The     Library. The     Door At The     Further End Closed 
 Upon Her. 
   
   
   
 'A Masterful Young Woman!' Said The     Squire After A Moment, Drawing a 
 Long Breath. Then He Took Up The     Codicil, Thrust It Into A Drawer Of 
 His Writing-Table, Lit A Cigarette, And Walked up And Down Smoking 
 It. After Which He Went To Bed and Slept Remarkably Well. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Cried herself To Sleep. No Comforting sprite Whispered to 
 Her That She Had Won The     First Round In an Arduous Campaign. On The 
 Contrary, She Fully Expected dismissal On The     Morrow. 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 5 Pg 85 
   
 It Was A Misty But Warm October Day, And A Pleasant Veiled light Lay 
 On The     Pillared front Of     Chetworth House, Designed in the     Best Taste 
 Of A Fastidious School. The     Surroundings Of     The     House, Too, Were As 
 Perfect As Those Of     Mannering were Slatternly And Neglected. All The 
 Young Men Had Long Since Gone From The     Gardens, But The     Old 
 Labourers And The     Girls In overalls Who Had Taken Their Places, 
 Under The     Eye Of     A White-Haired gardener, Had Been Wonderfully 
 Efficient So Far. Sir Henry Supposed he Ought To Have Let The     Lawns 
 Stand For Hay, And The     Hedges Go Unclipped; But As A Matter Of     Fact 
   
 The Lawns Had Never Been Smoother, Or The     Creepers And Yew Hedges 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 5 Pg 86 
 More Beautifully In order, So That Even The     Greatest Patriot Fails 
 Somewhere. 
   
   
   
 Beryl Chicksands Was Walking along A Stone-Flagged path Under A Yew 
 Hedge, From Which She Commanded the     Drive And A Bit Of     The     Road 
 Outside. Every Now And Then She Stopped to Peer Into The     Sunlit Haze 
 That Marked the     Lower Slopes Of     The     Park, And The     Delicate Hand That 
 Shaded her Eyes Shook A Little. 
   
   
   
 Aubrey Was Coming--And She Was Going seriously To Offer To Give Him 
 Up--To Try To Persuade Him Indeed to Break It Off. Since Her First 
 Agitated letter To Him Begging him Not To Think Of     Her, But To 
 Decide Only What Was Best For His Own Future, She Had Received a Few 
 Words From Him. 
   
   
   
      'Dearest Beryl--Nothing has Happened to Interfere With What We 
      Promised each Other Last Summer--Nothing at All! My Poor Father 
      Seems To Be Half Out Of     His Mind Under The     Stress Of     War. If He 
      Does What He Threatens, It Will Matter Very Little To Me; But 
      Of     Course _You_ Must Consider It Carefully, For I Shall Have 
      Uncommonly Little In the     Worldly Way To Offer You. Your Father 
      Has Written Very Kindly, And Your Dear Little Note Is Just Like 
      You. But You Must Consider. 
   
   
   
      'I Sometimes Doubt Whether My Father _Will_ Do What He 
      Threatens, But We Should Have To Take The     Risk. Anyway We Shall 
      Meet Directly, And I Am Always, And Unalterably, Your Devoted 
   
   
   
      'Aubrey.' 
   
   
   
 That Had Been Followed by A Boyish Note From Desmond--Dear, Jolly 
 Fellow! 
   
   
   
      'My Father'S Clean Daft! Don'T Bother, My Dear Beryl. If He 
      Tries To Leave Me This Funny Old Place, Instead Of     Aubrey, 
      Well, There Are Two Can Play At That Game. I Wouldn'T Touch It 
   
      With A Barge-Pole. You And A. Have Only Got To Stick It A 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 5 Pg 87 
      Little, And It'Ll Be All Right. 
   
   
   
      'I'Ve Given Him A Bit Of     My Mind About The     Park And The     Farm. 
      He Stands It From Me And Only Chaffs. That'S Because He Always 
      Treats Me Like A Baby. 
   
   
   
      'Very Sorry I Can'T Come On Tuesday With Aubrey, But There'S 
      Some Good-Bye Calls I Must Pay. Hope Arthur Will Be About. I 
      Want Awfully To See Him. Hard Luck His Being hit Like That, 
      After All The     Rest. Snipers Are Beasts! 
   
   
   
      '_P.S._--You Can'T Think What A Brainy Young Woman Father'S Got 
      For His New Secretary. And She'S Not Half Bad Either. Pamela'S 
      Rather Silly About Her, But She'Ll Come Round.' 
   
   
   
 Beryl Paid Small Attention To The     Postscript. She Had Heard A Good 
 Deal From Pamela About The     Newcomer, But It Did Not Concern Her. As 
 To The     Business Aspect Of     The     Squire'S Behaviour, Beryl Was Well 
 Aware That She Was An Heiress. Aubrey Would Lose Nothing financially 
 By Giving up The     Mannering estate To Marry Her. Personally She Cared 
 Nothing about Mannering, And She Had Enough For Both. But Still 
 There Was The     Old Name And Place. How Much Did He Care About It? How 
 Much Would He Regret It? Supposing his Extraordinary Father Really 
 Cut Him Off? 
   
   
   
 Beryl Felt She Did Not Know. And Therewith Came The     Recurrent 
 Pang--How Little She Really Knew About The     Man To Whom She Was 
 Engaged! She Adored him. Every Fibre In her Slight Sensitive Body 
 Still Remembered the     Moment When He First Kissed her, When She First 
 Felt His Arm About Her. But Since--How Often There Had Been Moments 
 When She Had Been Conscious Of     A Great Distance Between Them--Of 
 Something that Did Not Fit--That Jarred! 
   
   
   
 For Herself, She Could Never Remember A Time Since She Was Seventeen 
 When Aubrey Mannering had Not Meant More To Her Than Any One Else In 
 The World. On His First Departure To France, She Had Said Good-Bye 
 To Him With Secret Agonies Of     Spirit, Which No One Guessed but Her 
 Mother, A Colourless, Silent Woman, Who Had A Way Of     Knowing 
 Unexpectedly Much Of     The     People About Her. Then When He Was Badly 
   
 Wounded in some Fighting near Festubert, In may 1915, And Came Home 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 5 Pg 88 
 For Two Months' Leave, He Seemed like A Stranger, And Beryl Had Not 
 Known What To Be At With Him. She Was Told That He Had Suffered 
 Very Much--It Had Been A Severe Thigh Wound Implicating the     Sciatic 
 Nerve--And That He Had Been Once, At Least, Very Near To Death. But 
 When She Tried to Express Sympathy With What He Had Gone Through, Or 
 Timidly To Question Him About It, Her Courage Fled, Her Voice Died 
 In Her Throat. There Was Something unapproachable In her Old 
 Playfellow, Something that Held Her, And Indeed every One Else, At 
 Bay. 
   
   
   
 He Was Always Courteous, And Mostly Cheerful. But His Face In repose 
 Had An Absent, Haunted look, The     Eyes Alert But Fixed on Vacancy, 
 The Brow Overcast And Frowning. In the     Old Days Aubrey'S Smile Had 
 Been His Best Natural Gift. To Win A Smile From Him In her 
 Childhood, Beryl Would Have Done Anything--Have Gone On Her Knees Up 
 The Drive, Or Offered up The     Only Doll She Cared for, Or Gone 
 Without Jam For A Week. Now When He Came Home Invalided, She Had The 
 Same Craving; But What She Craved for Came Her Way Very Rarely. He 
 Would Laugh And Talk With Her As With Other People. But That 
 Exquisite Brightness Of     Eye And Lip, Which Seemed to Be For One 
 Person Only, And, When It Came, To Lift That Person To The     Seventh 
 Heaven, She Waited for In vain. 
   
   
   
 Then He Went Back To France, And In due Course Came The     Somme. 
 Aubrey Mannering went Through The     Whole Five Months Without A 
 Scratch. He Came Back With A D.S.O. And A Staff Appointment For A 
 Short Christmas Leave, Everybody, Except His Father, Turning out To 
 Welcome Him As The     Local Hero. Then, For A Time, He Went To 
 Aldershot As The     Head Of     An Officers' School There, And Was Able To 
 Come Down Occasionally To Chetworth Or Mannering. 
   
   
   
 During that First Christmas Leave He Paid Several Visits To 
 Chetworth, And Evidently Felt At Home There. To Lady Chicksands, 
 Whom Most People Regarded as A Tiresome Nonentity, He Was 
 Particularly Kind And Courteous. It Seemed to Give Him Positive 
 Pleasure To Listen To Her Garrulous Housekeeping talk, Or To Hold 
 Her Wool For Her While She Wound It. And As She, Poor Lady, Was Not 
 Accustomed to Such Attention From Brilliant Young Men, His Three 
 Days' Visit Was To Her A Red-Letter Time. With Sir Henry Also He Was 
 On Excellent Terms, And Made Just As Good A Listener To The     Details 
 Of Country Business As To Lady Chicksands' Domestic Tales. 
   
   
   
 And Yet To Beryl He Was In some Ways More Of     A Riddle Than Ever. He 
 Talked curiously Little About The     War--At Least To Her. He Had A Way 
 Of Finding out, Both At Chicksands And Mannering, Men Who Had Lost 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 5 Pg 89 
 Sons In france, And When He And Beryl Took A Walk, It Seemed to 
 Beryl As Though They Were Constantly Followed by Friendly Furtive 
 Looks From Old Labourers Who Passed them On The     Road, And Nodded as 
 They Went By. But When The     Daily War News Was Being discussed he Had 
 A Way Of     Sitting quite Silent, Unless His Opinion Was Definitely 
 Asked. When It Was, He Would Answer, Generally In a Rather 
 Pessimistic Spirit, And Escape The     Conversation As Soon As He Could. 
 And The     One Thing that Roused him And Put Him Out Of     Temper Was The 
 Easy Complacent Talk Of     People Who Were Sure Of     Speedy Victory And 
 Talked of     'Knock-Out' Blows. 
   
   
   
 Then Six Months Later, After The     Capture Of     The     Messines Ridge, In 
 Which He Took Part, He Reappeared, And Finding his Father, 
 Apparently, Almost Intolerable, And Pamela And Desmond Away, He 
 Migrated to Chetworth. And There He And Beryl Were Constantly 
 Thrown Together. He Never Talked to Her With Much Intimacy; He 
 Certainly Never Made Love To Her. But Suddenly She Became Aware That 
 She Had Grown Very Necessary To Him, That He Missed her When She Was 
 Away, That His Eyes Lit Up When She Came Back. A Special Relation 
 Was Growing up Between Them. Her Father Perceived it; So Did Her 
 Brother Arthur; And They Had Both Done Their Best To Help It On. 
 They Were Both Very Fond Of     Aubrey; And Nothing could Be More 
 Natural Than That She Should Marry One Who Had Been Her Neighbour 
 And Playmate From Childhood. 
   
   
   
 The Thing drifted on, And One Day, In the     Depths Of     A Summer 
 Beechwood, Some Look In the     Girl'S Eyes, Some Note Of     Tremulous And 
 Passionate Sweetness, Beyond Her Control, In her Deep Quiet Voice, 
 Touched something irrepressible In him, And He Turned to Her With A 
 Face Of     Intense, Almost Hungry Yearning, And Caught Her 
 Hands--'Dear--Dearest Beryl, Could You--?' 
   
   
   
 The Words Broke Off, But Her Eyes Spoke In reply To His, And Her 
 Sudden Whiteness. He Drew Her To Him, And Folded her Close. 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T Think I Ought'--The Faltering, Broken Voice Startled 
 Her--'I Don'T Know Whether I Can Make You Happy. Dear, Dear Little 
 Beryl!' 
   
   
   
   
 At That She Put Up Her Mouth Instinctively, Only To Shrink Back 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 5 Pg 90 
 Under The     Energy Of     His Kiss. Then They Had Walked on Together, Hand 
 In Hand; But She Remembered that, Even Before They Left The     Wood, 
 Something seemed to Have Dimmed the     Extraordinary Bliss Of     The     First 
 Moment--Some Restlessness In him--Some Touch Of     Absent-Mindedness, 
 As Though He Grudged himself His Own Happiness. 
   
   
   
 And So It Had Been Ever Since. He Had Resumed his Work At 
 Aldershot, And Owing to Certain Consequences Of     The     Wound In 1915 
 Was Not Likely, In spite Of     Desperate Efforts On His Own Part, To Be 
 Sent Back To The     Front. His Letters Varied just As His Presence Did. 
 Something always Seemed to Be Kept Back From Her--Was Always Beyond 
 Her Reach. Sometimes She Supposed she Was Not Clever Enough, That He 
 Found Her Inadequate And Irresponsive. Sometimes, With A Sudden, 
 Half-Guilty Sense Of     Disloyalty To Him, She Vaguely Wondered whether 
 There Was Some Secret In his Life--Some Past Of     Which She Knew 
 Nothing. How Could There Be? A Man Of     Stainless And Brilliant 
 Reputation--Modest, Able, Foolhardily Brave, Of     Whom All Men Spoke 
 Warmly; Of     A Sensitive Refinement Too, Which Made It Impossible To 
 Think Of     Any Ordinary Vulgar Skeleton In the     Background Of     His Life. 
   
   
   
 Yet Her Misgivings Had Grown And Grown Upon Her, Till Now They Were 
 Morbidly Strong. She Did Not Satisfy Him; She Was Not Making him 
 Happy; It Would Be Better For Her To Set Him Free. This Action Of 
 His Father'S Offered the     Opportunity. But As She Thought Of     Doing 
 It--_How_ She Would Do It, And How He Might Possibly Accept It--She 
 Was Torn With Misery. 
   
   
   
 She And Her Girl-Friend Pamela Were Very Different. She Was The 
 Elder By A Couple Of     Years, And Much More Mature. But Pamela'S 
 Undeveloped powers, The     Flashes Of     Daring, Of     Romance, In the 
 Awkward Reserved girl, The     Suggestion In her Of     A Big And Splendid 
 Flowering, Fascinated beryl, And In her Humility She Never Dreamt 
 That She, With Her Delicate Pensiveness, The     Mingled subtlety And 
 Purity Of     Her Nature, Was No Less Exceptional. She Had Been Brought 
 Up Very Much Alone. Her Mother Was No Companion For Her, And The 
 Brother Nearest Her Own Age And Nearest Her Heart Had Been Killed at 
 The Opening of     The     War. Arthur And She Were Very Good Friends, But 
 Not Altogether Congenial. She Was Rather Afraid Of     Him--Of His 
 Critical Temper, And His Abrupt Intolerant Way, With People Or 
 Opinions He Disliked. Beryl Was Quite Aware Of     His Effect On Pamela 
 Mannering, And It Made Her Anxious. For She Saw Little Chance For 
 Pamela. Before The     War, Arthur In london Had Been Very Much Sought 
   
 After, In a World Where Women Are Generally Good-Looking, And 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 5 Pg 91 
 Skilled besides In all The     Arts Of     Pursuit. His Standards Were 
 Ridiculously High. His Women Friends Were Many And Of     The     Best. Why 
 Should He Be Attracted by Anything so Young And Immature As Pamela? 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 At Last! A Pony-Cart Coming up From The     Lodge, With Two Figures In 
 It--Aubrey And Pamela. So Poor Pam Had At Last Got Hold Of     Something 
 In The     Nature Of     An Animal! 
   
   
   
 Beryl Gripped the     Balustrading which Bordered one Side Of     The     Path, 
 And Stood Watching intently--A Slender Creature, In a Broad Purple 
 Hat, Shading her Small, Distinguished face. 
   
   
   
 Presently, As The     Visitors Approached the     House, She Waved to Them, 
 And They To Her. They Disappeared from View For A Minute. Then A 
 Man'S Figure Emerged alone From A Garden Door Opening on The     Flagged 
 Path. 
   
   
   
 He Came Towards Her With Outstretched hands, Looked round Him 
 Smiling to See That No One Was In sight, And Then Kissed her. Beryl 
 Knew She Ought To Have Resisted the     Kiss; She Had Meant To Do It; 
 But All The     Same She Submitted. 
   
   
   
 'Your Father Met Us At The     Door. Arthur Has Carried pamela Off 
 Somewhere. Very Sporting of     Them, Wasn'T It? So I'Ve Got You Alone! 
 How Nice You Look! And What A Jolly Place This Is!' 
   
   
   
 He First Looked her Up And Down With Admiring eyes, And Then Made A 
 Gesture Towards The     Beautiful Modern House, And The     Equally 
 Beautiful And Modern Gardens In which It Stood, With Their Still 
 Unspoilt Autumn Flowers, Their Cunning devices In steps And 
 Fountains And Pergolas. 
   
   
   
   
 'How On Earth Do You Keep It So Trim?' He Put A Hand Through Her 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 5 Pg 92 
 Arm, And Drew Her On Towards The     Wood-Walk Which Opened beyond The 
 Formal Garden And The     Lawn. 
   
   
   
 'With Two Or Three Old Men, And Two Girls From The     Village,' Said 
 Beryl. 'Father Doesn'T Mind What He Gives Up So Long As It Isn'T The 
 Garden.' 
   
   
   
 'It'S His Pet Vice!' Laughed aubrey--'His Public-House, Like My 
 Father'S Greek Pots. I Say--You'Ve Heard Of     The     Secretary?' 
   
   
   
 It Seemed to Beryl That He Was Fencing with Her--Delaying their Real 
 Talk. But She Accepted his Lead. 
   
   
   
 'Yes, Desmond Seems To Like Her. I Don'T Gather That Pamela Cares 
 Very Much About Her.' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, Pamela Takes Time. But What Do You Think The     Secretary Did Last 
 Night?' 
   
   
   
 'What?' They Had Paused under A Group Of     Limes Clad In a Glory Of 
 Yellow Leaf, And She Was Looking up In surprise At The     Unusual 
 Animation Playing over The     Features Of     The     Man Beside Her. 
   
   
   
 'She Refused to Sign A Codicil To My Father'S Will, Disinheriting 
 Me, And Came To Tell Me So This Morning! You Should Have Heard Her! 
 Very Formal And Ceremonious--Very Much On Her Dignity! But Such A 
 Brick!' 
   
   
   
 Mannering'S Deep-Set Eyes Under His Lined thinker'S Brow Shone With 
 Amusement. Beryl, With The     Instinctive Jealousy Of     A Girl In love, 
 Was Conscious Of     A Sudden Annoyance That Miss Bremerton Should Have 
 Been Mixed up In aubrey'S Personal Affairs. 
   
   
   
 'What _Do_ You Mean?' 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 5 Pg 93 
   
   
 Aubrey Put An Arm Round Her Shoulder. She Knew She Ought To Shake It 
 Off, But The     Pressure Of     It Was Too Welcome. They Strolled on. 
   
   
   
 'I Had My Talk With Father Last Night. I Told Him He Was Absurd, And 
 I Was My Own Master. That You Were Perfectly Free To Give Me 
 Up--That I Had Begged you To Consider It--But I Didn'T Think You 
 Would,' He Smiled down Upon Her, But More Gravely; 'And Failing 
 Dismissal From You, We Should Be Married as Soon As It Was 
 Reasonably Possible. Was That Right, Darling?' 
   
   
   
 She Evaded the     Question. 
   
   
   
 'Well--And Then?' 
   
   
   
 'Then He Broke Out. Sir Henry Of     Course Was The     _Bête Noire_. You 
 Can Imagine The     Kind Of     Things He Said, I Needn'T Repeat Them. He Is 
 In A Mood Of     Perfectly Mad Opposition To All This War Legislation, 
 And It Is Not The     Least Good Arguing with Him. Finally He Told Me 
 That My Allowance Would Be Stopped, And Mannering would Be Left To 
 Desmond, If We Married. "All Right!" I Said, "I Daresay, If He And I 
 Survive You, Desmond Will Let Me Look Round Sometimes." Not Very 
 Respectful, Perhaps, But By That Time I Was Fed up. So Then I Wished 
 Him Good-Night, And Went Back To The     Drawing-Room. In a Few Minutes 
 He Sent For Miss Bremerton--Nobody Knew Why. I Was Dog-Tired, And 
 Went To Bed, And Didn'T I Sleep!--Nine Good Hours. Then This 
 Morning, Just After Breakfast, When I Was Strolling in the     Garden 
 With A Cigarette Waiting for Pamela, Who Should Come Out But Miss 
 Bremerton! Have You Seen Her?' 
   
   
   
 'Only In the     Distance.' 
   
   
   
 'Well, She'S Really A Very Fine Creature, Not Pretty Exactly--Oh, 
 Not Pretty At All--But Wonderfully Well Set Up, With Beautiful Hair, 
 And A General Look Of--What Shall I Say?--Dignity, Refinement, 
 Knowing her Own Mind. You Feel She Would Set You Down In a Moment If 
 You Took The     Smallest Liberty. I Could Not Think What She Wanted. 
 But She Came Up To Me--Of Course We Had Made Acquaintance The     Night 
 Before--"May I Speak To You, Major Mannering? I Wish To Say 
   
 Something private. Shall We Walk Down To The     Kitchen Garden?" So We 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 5 Pg 94 
 Walked down To The     Kitchen Garden, And Then She Told Me What Had 
 Happened after Dinner, When My Father Sent For Her. She Told It Very 
 Stiffly, Rather Curtly In fact, As Though She Were Annoyed to Have 
 To Bother About Such Unprofessional Things, And Hated to Waste Her 
 Time. "But I Don'T Wish, I Don'T Intend," She Said, "To Have The 
 Smallest Responsibility In the     Matter. So After Thinking it Over, I 
 Decided to Inform You--And Mr. Desmond Too, If You Will Kindly Tell 
 Him--As To What I Had Done. That Is All I Have To Say," With Her 
 Chin Very Much In the     Air! "I Did It, Of     Course, Because I Did Not 
 Care To Be Mixed up In _Any_ Private Or Family Affairs. That Is Not 
 My Business." I Was Taken Aback, As You Can Imagine! But, Of     Course, 
 I Thanked her--' 
   
   
   
 'Why, She Couldn'T Have Done Anything else!' Said Beryl With 
 Vivacity. 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T Know That. Anybody May Witness Anything. But She Seems To 
 Have Guessed. Of     Course My Father Never Keeps Anything to Himself. 
 Anyway She Didn'T Like Being thanked at All. She Turned back To The 
 House At Once. So Then I Asked her If She Knew What Had Happened to 
 The Precious Codicil. And She Flushed up And Said, With The     Manner 
 Of An Icicle, "Mr. Mannering sent Me To The     Drawer This Morning, 
 Where He Had Put It Away. It Was Lying on The     Top, And I Saw It." 
 "Signed?" I Said. "No, Not Signed." Then She Began To Hurry, And I 
 Thought I Had Offended her In some Way. But It Dawned upon Me, 
 Presently, That She Was Really Torn Between Her Feeling of     Chivalry 
 Towards Me--She Seems To Have A Kindness For Soldiers! Her Brother 
 Is Fighting somewhere--And Her Professional Obligations Towards My 
 Father. Wasn'T It Odd? She Hated to Be Indiscreet, To Give Him Away, 
 And Yet She Could Not Help It! I Believe She Had Been Awake Half The 
 Night. Her Eyes Looked like It. I Must Say I Liked her Very Much. A 
 Woman Of     A Great Deal Of     Character! I Expect She Has A Rough Time Of 
 It!' 
   
   
   
 'But Of     Course,' Said Beryl, 'It May Be All Signed and Witnessed by 
 Now!' 
   
   
   
 'Most Probably!' The     Major Laughed. 'But _She_ Did Her Best Anyway, 
 And I Shan'T Ask Her Any More Questions. We Had Better Take It For 
 Granted. My Father Is As Obstinate As They Make 'Em. Well Now, Dear 
 Beryl, Have You--Have You Thought It Over?' 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 5 Pg 95 
 He Pointed to A Seat, And Sat Down By Her. The     Brightness Of     His 
 Look Had Passed away. The     Thin, Intellectual Face And Lined brow Had 
 Resumed the     Expression That Was Familiar To Beryl. It Was An 
 Expression Of     Fatigue--Not Physical Now, For He Had Clearly 
 Recovered his Health, But Moral; As Though The     Man Behind It Were 
 Worn Out By Some Hidden Debate With His Own Mind, Into Which He Fell 
 Perpetually, When Left To Himself. It Was The     Look Which Divided him 
 From Her. 
   
   
   
 'Yes,' She Said Slowly, 'I'Ve Been Thinking a Great Deal.' She 
 Stopped; Then Lifting her Eyes, Which Were Grey And Fringed with 
 Dark Lashes--Beautiful Eyes, Timid Yet Passionately Honest--She 
 Said, 'You'D Better Give Me Up, Aubrey!' 
   
   
   
 He Made A Restless Movement, Then Took Her Hands And Raised them To 
 His Lips. 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T Feel Like It!' He Said, Smiling. 'Tell Me What You Mean.' 
   
   
   
 She Looked down, Plucking at The     Fringed belt Of     Her Sports Coat. 
 Her Lips Trembled a Little. 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T Think, Aubrey, I Can Make You Happy! I'Ve Been Feeling 
 Often--That I Don'T Seem To Make Much Difference To You. And Now 
 This Is Very Serious--Giving up Mannering. _You_ May Mind It Much 
 More Than You Think. And If--' 
   
   
   
 'If What? Go On!' 
   
   
   
 She Raised her Eyes Again And Looked at Him Straight. 
   
   
   
 'If I Can'T Make Up?' 
   
   
   
 The Colour Flooded into His Face, As Though, Far Within, Something 
 Stirred 'Like A Guilty Thing surprised.' But He Said Tenderly: 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 5 Pg 96 
   
   
 'I Don'T Care _That_, Beryl'--He Snapped his Fingers--'For Mannering 
 In Comparison With You.' 
   
   
   
 Her Breath Fluttered a Little, But She Went On Resolutely. 'But I 
 Must Say It--I Must Tell You What I Feel. It Seems The     Right 
 Opportunity. So Often, Aubrey, I Don'T Seem To Understand You! I Say 
 The Wrong Thing. I'M Not Clever. I Haven'T Any Deep Thoughts--Like 
 You Or Arthur. It Would Be Terrible If You Married me, And Then--I 
 Felt You Were Disappointed.' 
   
   
   
 He Moved a Little Away From Her And, Propping his Chin On His Hands, 
 Looked gravely Through The     Thinning branches Of     The     Wood. 
   
   
   
 'I Wonder Why You Say That--I Wonder What I'Ve Done!' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, You'Ve Done Nothing!' Cried beryl. 'It'S Only I 
 Feel--Sometimes--That--That You Don'T Let Me Know Things--Share 
 Things. You Seem Sometimes So Sad--And I Can'T Be Any Help--You 
 Won'T Let Me! That'S What I Mind So Much--So Dreadfully!' 
   
   
   
 He Was Silent A Moment. Then Without Any Attempt At Caresses, He 
 Said, 'I Wonder, Beryl, Whether You--Whether You--Ever Realize--What 
 We Soldiers Have _Seen_? No!--Thank God!--You Don'T--You Can'T.' 
   
   
   
 She Pressed her Hands To Her Eyes, And Shuddered. 
   
   
   
 'No, Of     Course I Can'T--Of Course I Can'T!' She Said Passionately. 
   
   
   
 Then, While Her Eyes Were Still Hidden, There Passed through 
 His Worn Features A Sharp Spasm, As Of     Some Uncontrollable 
 Anguish--Passed and Was Gone. 
   
   
   
 He Turned towards Her, And She Looked up. If Ever Love, All-Giving, 
 Self-Forgetting, Was Written On A Girl'S Face, It Was Written  
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 5 Pg 97 
 Beryl'S Then. Her Wild-Rose Colour Came And Went; Her Eyes Were Full 
 Of Tears. She Had Honestly Made Her Attempt, But She Could Not Carry 
 It Through, And He Saw It. Some Vague Hope--Of Which He Was 
 Ashamed--Died away. Profoundly Touched, He Put Out His Arms, And 
 Making nothing of     Her Slight Resistance, Gathered her Close To Him. 
   
   
   
 'Did You Ever Read _Sintram_, Beryl?' 
   
   
   
 'Yes, Years Ago.' 
   
   
   
 'Do You Remember His Black Fits--How They Came Upon Him 
 Unexpectedly--And Only Verena Could Help Him? It'S Like That With Me 
 Sometimes. Things I'Ve Seen--Horrible Sufferings And Death--Come 
 Back On Me. I Can'T Get Over It--At Least Not Yet. But I'Ll Never 
 Let It Come Really Between Us. And Perhaps--Some Day'--He Hesitated 
 And His Voice Dropped--'You Shall Help Me--Like Verena!' 
   
   
   
 She Clung To Him, Not Knowing what He Meant, But Fascinated by His 
 Deep Voice, And The     Warm Shelter Of     His Arms. He Bent Down To Kiss 
 Her, In the     Most Passionate Embrace He Had Ever Given Her. 
   
   
   
 Then He Released her, And They Both Looked at Each Other With A New 
 Shyness. 
   
   
   
 'So That'S All Right!' He Said, Smiling. 'You See You Can'T Drop Me 
 As Easily As You Think. I Stick! Well, Now, You Take Me As A 
 Pauper--Not Exactly A Pauper--But Still--I'Ve Got To Settle Things 
 With Your Father, Though!' 
   
   
   
 Beryl Proposed that They Should Go And Look For The     Others. 
   
   
   
 They Went Hand In hand. 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 5 Pg 98 
   
 Sir Henry Meanwhile Was Engaged in the     Congenial Occupation Of 
 Inspecting and Showing his Kitchen Gardens. His Son Arthur And 
 Pamela Mannering were Following him Round The     Greenhouses, Finding 
 More Amusement In the     Perplexities Of     Sir Henry'S Conscience Than 
 Interest In the     Show Itself. 
   
   
   
 'You See They'Ve Brought In the     Chrysanthemums. Just In time! There 
 Was A Frost Last Night,' Said Sir Henry, Throwing open A Door, And 
 Disclosing a Greenhouse Packed with Chrysanthemums In bud. 
   
   
   
 'My Hat--What A Show!' Said His Son. 
   
   
   
 'Not At All, Arthur, Not At All,' Said His Father, Annoyed. 'Not A 
 Third Of     What We Had Last Year.' 
   
   
   
 Arthur Raised his Eyebrows, And Behind His Father'S Back He And 
 Pamela Exchanged smiles. The     Next House Showed a Couple Of     Elderly 
 Men At Work Pruning roses Intended to Flower In february And March. 
   
   
   
 'This Is Almost My Favourite House,' Exclaimed sir Henry. 'Such A 
 Wonderful Result For So Little Labour!' He Strolled on Complacently. 
   
   
   
 'How Long Does This Take You, Grimes?' Arthur Inquired discreetly Of 
 One Of     The     Gardeners. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, A Good While, Mr. Arthur--What With The     Pruning, And The 
 Syringing, And The     Manuring,' Said The     Man Addressed, Stopping to 
 Wipe His Brow, For The     Day Was Mild. 
   
   
   
 Arthur'S Look Darkened a Little. He Fell Into A Reverie, While 
 Pamela Was Conscious At Every Step Of     His Tall Commanding presence, 
 Of The     Military Cross On His Khaki Breast, And The     Pleasant, 
 Penetrating eyes Under His Staff Cap. Arthur, She Thought, Must Be 
   
 Now Over Thirty. Before His Recent Wound He Had Been Doing some 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 5 Pg 99 
 Special Artillery Work On The     Staff Of     An Army Corps, And Was A Very 
 Rising soldier. He Was Now Chafing hotly Against The     Ruling of     His 
 Medical Board, Who Were Insisting that He Was Not Yet Fit To Go Back 
 To France. 
   
   
   
 Pamela Meanwhile Was Going through Moments Of     Disillusion. After 
 These Two Years She Had Looked forward To The     Meeting with Such 
 Eagerness, Such Hidden Emotion! And Now--What Was There To Have Been 
 Eager About? They Seemed to Be Talking almost As Strangers. The 
 Soreness Of     It Bewildered her. 
   
   
   
 Presently, As They Were Walking back To The     House, Leaving sir 
 Henry In anxious Consultation Over The     Mushroom-House With The 
 Grey-Haired head Gardener, Her Companion Turned to Her Abruptly. 
   
   
   
 'I Suppose _That'S_ All Right!' He Pointed to Some Distant Figures 
 On The     Fringe Of     A Wood. 
   
   
   
 'Beryl And Aubrey? Yes--If Aubrey Can Make Her See That She Isn'T 
 Doing him Any Harm By Letting him Go On.' 
   
   
   
 'Good Heavens! How Could She Do Him Any Harm?' 
   
   
   
 'Well, There'S Mannering. As If That Mattered!' Said The     Girl 
 Scornfully. 'And Then--Beryl'S Too Dreadfully Humble!' 
   
   
   
 'Humble! About What? No Girl Ought To Be Humble--Ever!' 
   
   
   
 Pamela'S Eyes Recovered their Natural Brilliance Under His 
 Peremptory Look. And He, Who Had Begun The     Walk With No Particular 
 Consciousness At All About His Companion, Except That She Was A 
 Nice, Good-Looking child, Whom He Had Known From A Baby, With Equal 
 Suddenness Became Aware Of     Her In a New Way. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 5 Pg 100 
 'Why Shouldn'T We Be Humble, Please?' She Said, With A Laugh. 
   
   
   
 'Because It'S Monstrous That You Should. Leave That To Us!' 
   
   
   
 'There Wouldn'T Be Much Of     It About, If We Did!' The     Red danced in 
 Her Cheek. 
   
   
   
 'Much Humility? Oh, You'Re Quite Mistaken. Men Are Much More Humble 
 Than You Think. But We'Re Human, Of     Course. If You Tempt Us, You 
 Soon Put The     Starch Into Us.' 
   
   
   
 'Well, You Must Starch Beryl!' Said Pamela, With Emphasis. 'She Will 
 Think And Say That She'S Not Worthy Of     Aubrey, That She Knows 
 She'Ll Disappoint Him, That She Wouldn'T Mind His Giving up 
 Mannering if Only She Were Sure She Could Make Him Happy--And Heaps 
 Of Things Like That! I'M Sure She'S Saying them Now!' 
   
   
   
 'I Never Heard Such Nonsense In my Life!' The     Masculine Face Beside 
 Her Was All Impatience. 'One Can'T Exactly Boast About One'S Sister, 
 But You And I Know Very Well What Beryl Is Worth!' 
   
   
   
 Pamela Agreed fervently. 'Besides, Desmond Would Give It Back.' 
   
   
   
 'Hm--' Her Companion Demurred. 'Giving back Isn'T Always Easy. As To 
 Pounds, Shillings, And Pence, If One Must Talk Of     Them, It'S Lucky 
 That Beryl Has Her "Bit." But I Shouldn'T Wonder If Your Father 
 Thought Better Of     It After All.' 
   
   
   
 Pamela Flushed indignantly. 
   
   
   
 'He All But Signed a Codicil To His Will Last Night! He'S In a 
 Tearing hurry About It. He Called in miss Bremerton And Wanted her 
 To Witness It. And She Refused. So Father Threw It Into A Drawer, 
 And Nobody Knows What Has Happened.' 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 5 Pg 101 
   
   
 'Miss Bremerton? The     New Secretary?' The     Tone Expressed both 
 Amusement And Curiosity. 'Ah! I Hear All Sorts Of     Interesting things 
 About Her.' 
   
   
   
 Pamela Straightened her Shoulders Defiantly. 
   
   
   
 'Of Course She'S Interesting. She'S Terribly Clever And Up To Date, 
 And All The     Rest Of     It. She'S Beginning to Boss Father, And Very 
 Soon She'Ll Boss All The     Rest Of     Us.' 
   
   
   
 'Perhaps You Wanted it!' Said Captain Chicksands, Smiling. 
   
   
   
 'Perhaps We Did,' Pamela Admitted. 'But One Needn'T Like It All The 
 Same. Well, She'S Rationed us--That'S One Good Thing--And Father 
 Really Doesn'T Guess! And Now She'S Begun To Take An Interest In 
 The Farms! I Believe She'S Walked over To The     Holme Wood Farm 
 To-Day, To See For Herself What State It'S In. Father'S In town. And 
 She'S Trying hard To Keep Father Out Of     A Horrible Row With The 
 County Committee.' 
   
   
   
 'About Ploughing up The     Park?' 
   
   
   
 Pamela Nodded. 
   
   
   
 'Plucky Woman!' Said Arthur Chicksands Heartily. 'I'M Sure You Help 
 Her, Pamela, All You Can?' 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T Like Being managed,' Said The     Girl Stubbornly, Rather 
 Resenting his Tone. 
   
   
   
 A Slight Shade Of     Sternness Crossed the     Soldier'S Face. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 5 Pg 102 
 'You Know It'S No Good Playing with This War,' He Said Drily. 'It'S 
 As Much To Be Won Here As It Is Over Seas. _Food_!--That'Ll Be The 
 Last Word For Everybody. And It'S Women'S Work As Much As Men'S.' 
   
   
   
 She Saw That She Had Jarred on Him. But An Odd Jealousy--Or Perhaps 
 Her Hidden Disappointment--Drove Her On. 
   
   
   
 'Yes, But One Doesn'T Like Strangers Interfering,' She Said 
 Childishly. 
   
   
   
 The Soldier Threw Her A Side-Glance, While His Lip Twitched a 
 Little. So This Was Pamela--Grown-Up. She Seemed to Him Rather 
 Foolish--And Very Lovely. There Was No Doubt About That! She Was 
 Going to Be A Beauty, And Of     A Remarkable Type. He Himself Was A 
 Strong, High-Minded, Capable Fellow, With An Instinctive Interest In 
 Women, And A Natural Aptitude For Making friends With Them. He Was 
 Inclined, Always, To Try And Set Them In the     Right Way; To Help Them 
 To Some Of     The     Mental Training which Men Got In a Hundred ways, And 
 Women, As It Seemed to Him, Were Often So Deplorably Without. But 
 This Schoolmaster Function Only Attracted him When There Was 
 Opposition. He Had Been Quite Sincere In denouncing humility In 
 Women. It Never Failed to Warn Him Off. 
   
   
   
 'Do You Think She Really Wants To Interfere?' He Asked, Smiling. 'I 
 Expect It'S Only That She'S Got A Bit Of     An Organizing gift--Like 
 The Women Who Have Been Doing such Fine Things In the     War.' 
   
   
   
 'There'S No Chance For Me To Do Fine Things In the     War,' Said Pamela 
 Bitterly. 
   
   
   
 'Take Up The     Land, And See! Suppose You And Miss Bremerton Could 
 Pull The     Estate Together!' 
   
   
   
 Pamela'S Eyes Scoffed. 
   
   
   
 'Father Would Never Let Me. No, I Think Sometimes I Shall Run Away!' 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 5 Pg 103 
   
   
 He Lifted his Eyebrows, And She Was Annoyed with Him For Taking her 
 Remark As Mere Bluff. 
   
   
   
 'You'Ll See,' She Insisted. 'I Shall Do Something desperate.' 
   
   
   
 'I Wouldn'T,' He Said, Quietly. 'Make Friends With Miss Bremerton 
 And Help Her.' 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T Like Her Enough,' She Said, Drawing quick Breath. 
   
   
   
 He Saw Now She Was In a Mood To Quarrel With Him Outright. But He 
 Didn'T Mean To Let Her. With Those Eyes--In Such A Fire--She Was 
 Really Splendid. How She Had Come On! 
   
   
   
 'I'M Sorry,' He Said Mildly. 'Because, You Know--If You Don'T Mind 
 My Saying so--It'Ll Really Take The     Two Of     You To Keep Your Father 
 Out Of     Gaol. The     Government'S Absolutely Determined about This 
 Thing--They Can'T Afford To Be Anything else. _We'Re_ Being 
 Hammered, And Gassed, And Blown To Pieces Over There'--He Pointed 
 Eastward. 'It'S The     Least The     People Over Here Can Do--To Play 
 Up--Isn'T It?' Then He Laughed. 'But I Mustn'T Be Setting you 
 Against Your Father. I Didn'T Mean To.' 
   
   
   
 Pamela Shrugged her Shoulders, In silence. She Really Longed to Ask 
 Him About His Wound, His Staff Work, A Thousand Things; But They 
 Didn'T Seem, Somehow, To Be Intimate Enough, To Be Hitting it Off 
 Enough. This Meeting, Which Had Been To Her A Point Of     Romance 
 In The     Distance, Was Turning out To Be Just Nothing--Only 
 Disappointment. She Was Glad To See How Quickly The     Other Pair Were 
 Coming towards Them, And At The     Same Time Bitterly Vexed that Her 
 _Tête-À-Tête_ With Arthur Was At An End. 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 104 
   
 Meanwhile Elizabeth Bremerton Was Sitting pensive On A Hill-Side 
 About Mid-Way Between Mannering and Chetworth. She Had A Bunch Of 
 Autumn Berries In her Hands. Her Tweed skirt And Country Boots 
 Showed traces Of     Mud Much Deeper Than Anything on The     High Road; Her 
 Dress Was Covered with Bits Of     Bramble, Dead Leaves, And 
 Thistledown; And Her Bright Gold Hair Had Been Pulled here And There 
 Out Of     Its Neat Coils, As Though She Had Been Pushing through Hedges 
 Or Groping through Woods. 
   
   
   
 'It'S Perfectly _Monstrous_!' She Was Thinking. 'It Oughtn'T To Be 
 Allowed. And When We'Re Properly Civilized, It Won'T Be Allowed. No 
 One Ought To Be Free To Ruin His Land As He Pleases! It Concerns The 
 _State_. "Manage Your Land Decently--Produce A Proper Amount Of 
 Food--Or Out You Go!" And I Wouldn'T Have Waited for War To Say It! 
 Ugh! That Place!' 
   
   
   
 And She Thought With Disgust Of     The     Choked and Derelict Fields, The 
 Ruined gates And Fences, The     Deserted buildings She Had Just Been 
 Wandering through. After The     Death Of     An Old Miser, Who, According 
 To The     Tale She Had Heard In a Neighbouring village, Had Lived there 
 For Forty Years, With A Decrepit Wife, Both Of     Them Horribly 
 Neglected and Dirty, And Making latterly No Attempt To Work The 
 Farm, A New Tenant Had Appeared who Would Have Taken The     Place, If 
 The Squire Would Have Rebuilt The     House And Steadings, And Allowed a 
 Reasonable Sum For The     Cleansing and Recovering of     The     Land. But 
 The Squire Would Do Nothing of     The     Kind. He 'Hadn'T A Farthing to 
 Spend On Expensive Repairs,' And If The     New Tenant Wouldn'T Take The 
 Farm On The     Old Terms, Well, He Might Leave It Alone. 
   
   
   
 The Place Had Just Been Investigated by The     County Committee, And A 
 Peremptory Order Had Been Issued. What Was The     Squire Going to Do? 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Fell To Thinking what _Ought_ To Be Done With The     Squire'S 
 Twelve Thousand Acres, If The     Squire Were A Reasonable Man. It Was 
 Exasperating to Her Practical Sense To See A Piece Of     Business In 
 Such A Muddle. As A Child And Growing girl She Had Spent Long 
   
 Summers In the     Country With A Dorsetshire Uncle Who Farmed his Own 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 105 
 Land, And There Had Sprung Up In her An Instinctive Sympathy With 
 The Rich Old Earth And Its Kindly Powers, With The     Animals And The 
 Crops, With The     Labourers And Their Rural Arts, With All The 
 Interwoven Country Life, And Its Deep Rooting in the     Soil Of     History 
 And Poetry. 
   
   
   
 Country Life Is, Above All, Steeped in common Sense--The Old, 
 Ancestral, Simple Wisdom Of     Primitive Men. And Elizabeth, In spite 
 Of Her Classical Degree, And Her Passion For Greek Pots, Believed 
 Herself To Be, Before Everything, A Person Of     Common Sense. She Had 
 Always Managed her Own Family'S Affairs. She Had Also Been The     Paid 
 Secretary Of     An Important Learned society In her Twenties Not Long 
 After She Left College, And Knew Well That She Had Been A 
 Conspicuous Success. She Had A Great Love, Indeed, For Any Sort Of 
 Organizing, Large And Small, For Putting things Straight, And 
 Running them. She Was Burning to Put Mannering straight--And Run It. 
 She Knew She Could. Organizing means Not Doing things Yourself, But 
 Finding the     Right People To Do Them. And She Had Always Been Good 
 At Finding the     Right People--Putting the     Round Pegs Into The     Round 
 Holes. 
   
   
   
 All Very Well, However, To Talk Of     Running the     Squire'S Estate! What 
 Was To Be Done With The     Squire? 
   
   
   
 Take The     Codicil Business. First Thing that Morning he Had Sent Her 
 To That Very Drawer To Look For Something, And There Lay The 
 Precious Document--Unsigned and Unwitnessed--For Any One To See. He 
 Made No Comment, Nor Of     Course Did She. He Would Probably Forget It 
 Till The     Date Of     His Son'S Marriage Was Announced, And Then Complete 
 It In a Hurry. 
   
   
   
 Take The     Farms And The     Park. As To The     Farms There Were Two 
 Summonses Now Pending against Him With Regard To 'Farms In 
 Hand'--Holme Wood And Another--Besides The     Action In the     Case Of     The 
 Three Incompetent Men, Gregson At Their Head, Who Were Being turned 
 Out. With Regard To Ploughing up The     Park, All His Attempts So Far 
 To Put Legal Difficulties In the     Way Of     The     County Committee Had 
 Been Quite Futile. The     Steam Plough Was Coming in a Week. Meanwhile 
 The Gates Were To Be Locked, And Two Old Park-Keepers, Who Were 
   
 Dithering in their Shoes, Had Been Told To Defend Them. 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 106 
   
 At Bottom, Elizabeth Was Tolerably Convinced that The     Squire Would 
 Not Land Himself In gaol, Cut Off From His Books And His Bronzes, 
 And Reduced to The     Company Of     People Who Had Never Heard Of 
 Pausanias. But She Was Alarmed lest He Should 'Try It On' A Little 
 Too Far, In these Days When The     Needs Of     War And The     Revolutionary 
 Currents Abroad Make The     Setting down Of     Squires Especially 
 Agreeable To The     Plebeians Who Sit On Juries Or County Committees. 
 Of Course He Must--He Certainly Would--Climb Down. 
   
   
   
 But Somebody Would Have To Go Through The     Process Of     Persuading 
 Him! That Was Due To His Silly Dignity! She Supposed that Somebody 
 Would Be Herself. How Absurd! She, Who Had Just Been Six Weeks On 
 The Scene! But Neither Of     The     Married daughters Had The     Smallest 
 Influence With Him; Sir Henry Chicksands Had Been Sent About His 
 Business; Major Mannering was Out Of     Favour, And Desmond And Pamela 
 Were But Babes. 
   
   
   
 Then A Recollection Flashed across The     Contriving mind Of     Elizabeth 
 Which Brought A Decided flush To Her Fair Skin--A Flush Which Was 
 Half Amusement, Half Wrath. That Morning a Rather Curious Incident 
 Had Happened. After Her Talk With Major Mannering, And Because The 
 Morning was Fine And The     Squire Was Away, She Had Dragged a Small 
 Table Out Into The     Garden, In front Of     The     Library, And Set To Work 
 There On A Part Of     The     New Catalogue Of     The     Collections, Which She 
 And Mr. Levasseur Were Making. She Did Not, However, Like Mr. 
 Levasseur. Something in her, Indeed, Disapproved of     Him Strongly. 
 She Had Already Managed to Dislodge Him A Good Deal From His Former 
 Intimacy With The     Squire. Luckily She Was A Much Better Scholar Than 
 He, Though She Admitted that His Artistic Judgment Was Worth Having. 
   
   
   
 As A Shelter From A Rather Cold North Wind, She Was Sitting in full 
 Sun Under The     Protection Of     A Yew Hedge Of     Ancient Growth, Which Ran 
 Out At Right Angles To The     Library, And Made One Side Of     A 
 Quadrangular Rose-Garden, Planted by Mrs. Mannering long Ago, And 
 Now, Like Everything else, In confusion And Neglect. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 107 
 Presently She Heard Voices On The     Other Side Of     The     Hedge--Mrs. 
 Strang, No Doubt, And Mrs. Gaddesden. She Did Not Take Much To 
 Either Lady. Mrs. Strang Seemed to Her Full Of     Good Intentions, But 
 Without Practical Ability To Fit Them. For Mrs. Gaddesden'S Type She 
 Had An Instinctive Contempt, The     Contempt Of     The     Clever Woman Of 
 Small Means Who Has Had To Earn Her Own Living, And To Watch In 
 Silence The     Poses And Pretences Of     Rich Women Playing at 
 Philanthropy. But, All The     Same, She And The     Servants Between Them 
 Had Made Mrs. Gaddesden Extremely Comfortable, While At The     Same 
 Time Rationing her Strictly. 'I Really Can Be Civil To Anybody!' 
 Thought Elizabeth Complacently. 
   
   
   
 Suddenly, Her Own Name, And A Rush Of     Remarks On The     Other Side Of 
 This Impenetrable Hedge, Made Her Raise Her Head, Startled, From Her 
 Work, Eyes And Mouth Wide Open. 
   
   
   
 It Was Mrs. Gaddesden Speaking. 
   
   
   
 'Yes, She'S Gone Out. I Went Into The     Library Just Now To Ask Her To 
 Look Out A Train For Me. She'S Wonderfully Good At Bradshaw. Oh, Of 
 Course, I Admit She'S A Very Clever Woman! But She Wasn'T There. 
 Forest Thinks She'S Gone Over To Holme Wood, To Get Father Some 
 Information He Wants. She Asked forest How To Get This This Morning. 
 My Dear Margaret,' With Great Emphasis, 'There'S No Question About 
 It! If She Chooses, She'Ll Be Mistress Here Before Long. She'S 
 Steadily Getting father Into Her Hands. She Was Never Engaged, Was 
 She, To Look After Accounts And Farms? And Yet Here She Is, Taking 
 Everything on. He'Ll Grow More And More Dependent Upon Her, And 
 You'Ll See!--I Believe He'S Been Inclined for Some Time To Marry 
 Again. He Wants Somebody To Look After Pamela, And Set Him Free For 
 His Hobbies. He'Ll Very Soon Find Out That This Woman Fills The 
 Part, And That, If He Marries Her, He'Ll Get A Classical Secretary 
 Besides.' 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Strang'S Voice--A Deep Husky Voice--Interposed. 
   
   
   
 'Miss Bremerton'S Not A Woman To Be Married against Her Will, That 
 You May Be Sure Of, Alice.' 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 108 
   
 'No, But, My Dear,' Said The     Other Impatiently, 'Every Woman Over 
 Thirty Wants A Home--And A Husband. She'D Get That Here Anyway, 
 However Bad Father'S Affairs May Be. And, Of     Course, A _Position_.' 
   
   
   
 The Voices Passed on Out Of     Hearing. Elizabeth Remained transfixed. 
 Then With A Contemptuous Shake Of     The     Head, And A Bright Colour, She 
 Returned to Her Work. 
   
   
   
 But Now, As She Sat Meditating on The     Hill-Side, This Absurd 
 Conversation Recurred to Her. Absurd, And Not Absurd! 'Most Women Of 
 My Sort Can Do What They Have A Mind To Do,' She Thought To Herself, 
 With Perfect _Sang-Froid_. 'If I Thought It Worth While To Marry 
 This Elderly Lunatic--He'S An Interesting lunatic, Though!--I 
 Suppose I Could Do It. But It Isn'T Worth While--Not The     Least. I'Ve 
 Done With Being a Woman! What Interests Me Is The     Bit Of 
 _Work_--National Work! Men Find That Kind Of     Thing enough--A Great 
 Many Of     Them. I Mean To Find It Enough. A Fig For Marrying!' 
   
   
   
 All The     Same, As She Returned to Her Schemes Both For Regenerating 
 The Estate And Managing the     Squire--Schemes Which Were Beginning to 
 Fascinate Her, Both By Their Difficulty And Their Scale--She Found 
 Her Thoughts Oddly Interfered with, First By Recollections Of     The 
 Past--Bitter, Ineffaceable Memories--And Then By Reflections On The 
 Recent Course Of     Her Relations With The     Squire. 
   
   
   
 He Had Greeted her That Morning without A Single Reference To The 
 Incidents Of     The     Night Before, Had Seemed in excellent Spirits, And 
 Before Going up To Town Had Given Her In twenty Minutes, _À Propos_ 
 Of Some Difficulty In her Work, One Of     The     Most Brilliant Lectures 
 On Certain Points Of     Homeric Archaeology She Had Ever Heard--And She 
 Was A Connoisseur In lectures. 
   
   
   
 Intellectually, As A Scholar, She Both Admired and Looked upon 
 Him--With Reverence, Even With Enthusiasm. She Was Eager For His 
 Praise, Distressed by His Censure. Practically And Morally, 
 Patriotically, Above All, She Despised him, Thought Him 'A Worm And 
 No Man'! There Was The     Paradox Of     The     Situation And As Full Of 
 Tingling challenge And Entertainment As Paradoxes Generally Are. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 109 
   
   
 At This Point She Became Aware Of     A Group On The     High Road Far To 
 Her Right. A Pony-Cart--A Girl Driving it--A Man In khaki Beside 
 Her; With A Second Girl-Figure And Another Khaki-Clad Warrior, 
 Walking near. 
   
   
   
 She Presently Thought She Recognized pamela'S Pony And Pamela 
 Herself. Desmond, Who Was Going off That Very Evening to His 
 Artillery Camp, Had Told Her That 'Pam' Was Driving aubrey Over To 
 Chetworth, And That He, Desmond, Was 'Jolly Well Going to See To It 
 That Neither Old Aubrey Nor Beryl Were Bullied out Of     Their Lives By 
 Father,' If He Could Help It. So No Doubt The     Second Girl-Figure Was 
 That Of     Beryl Chicksands, And The     Other Gentleman In khaki Was 
 Probably Captain Chicksands, For Whom Desmond Seemed to Cherish A 
 Boyish Hero-Worship. They Had Been All Lunching together At 
 Chetworth, She Supposed. 
   
   
   
 She Watched them Coming, With A Curious Mingling of     Interest In them 
 And Detachment From Them. She Was To Them Merely The     Squire'S Paid 
 Secretary. Were They Anything to Her? A Puckish Thought Crossed her 
 Mind, Sending a Flash Of     Slightly Cynical Laughter Through Her Quiet 
 Eyes. If Mrs. Gaddesden'S Terrors--For She Supposed they Were 
 Terrors--Were Suddenly Translated into Fact, Why, All These People 
 Would Become In a Moment Related to Her!--Their Lives Would Be Mixed 
 Up With Hers--She And They Would Matter Intimately To Each Other! 
   
   
   
 She Sat Smiling and Dreaming a Few More Minutes, The     Dimples Playing 
 About Her Firm Mouth And Chin. Then, As The     Sound Of     Wheels Drew 
 Nearer, She Rose And Went Towards The     Party. 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 The Party From Chetworth Soon Perceived elizabeth'S Approach. 'So 
 This Is The     Learned lady?' Said The     Captain In pamela'S Ear. She Had 
 Brought Him In her Pony-Carriage So Far, As He Was Not Yet Able For 
 Much Physical Exertion, And He And Beryl Were To Walk Back From 
 Holme Wood Hill. 
   
   
   
 He Put Up His Eye-Glass, And Examined the     Figure As It Came Nearer. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 110 
   
   
 'She'S Just Come Up, I Suppose, From The     Farm,' Said Pamela, 
 Pointing to Some Red roofs Among The     Trees, In the     Wide Hollow Below 
 The Hill. 
   
   
   
 '"Athêne Ageleiê"!' Murmured the     Major, Who Had Been Proxime For The 
 Ireland, And A Balliol Man. 'She Holds Herself Well--Beautiful 
 Hair!' 
   
   
   
 'Beryl, This Is Miss Bremerton,' Said Aubrey Mannering, With A 
 Cordial Ring in his Voice, As He Introduced his Fiancée To 
 Elizabeth. The     Two Shook Hands, And Elizabeth Thought The     Girl'S 
 Manner A Little Stand-Off, And Wondered why. 
   
   
   
 The Pony Had Soon Been Tied up, And The     Party Spread Themselves On 
 The Grass Of     The     Hill-Side; For Holme Wood Hill Was A Famous Point 
 Of View, And The     Sunny Peace Of     The     Afternoon Invited loitering. 
 For Miles To The     Eastward Spread An Undulating chalk Plain, Its 
 Pale Grey Or Purplish Soil Showing in the     Arable Fields Where The 
 Stubbles Were Just In process Of     Ploughing, Its Monotony Broken By A 
 Vast Wood Of     Oak And Beech Into Which The     Hill-Side Ran Down--A Wood 
 Of Historic Fame, Which Had Been There When Senlac Was Fought, Had 
 Furnished ship-Timber For The     Armada, And Sheltered many A Cavalier 
 Fugitive Of     The     Civil Wars. 
   
   
   
 The Wood Indeed, Which Belonged to The     Squire, Was A Fragment Of 
 Things Primeval. For Generations The     Trees In it Had Sprung Up, 
 Flourished, And Fallen As They Pleased. There Were Corners Of     It 
 Where The     North-West Wind Sweeping over The     Bare Down Above It Had 
 Made Pathways Of     Death And Ruin; Sinister Places Where The     Fallen Or 
 Broken Trunks Of     The     Great Beech Trees, As They Had Crashed 
 Down-Hill Upon And Against Each Other, Had Assumed all Sorts Of 
 Grotesque And Phantasmal Attitudes, As In a Trampled mêlée Of 
 Giants; There Were Other Parts Where Slender Plumed trees, Rising 
 Branchless To A Great Height Above Open Spaces, Took The     Shape From 
 A Distance Of     Italian Stone Palms, And Gave A Touch Of     Southern Or 
 Romantic Grace To The     English Midland Scene; While At Their Feet, 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 111 
 The Tops Of     The     More Crowded sections Of     The     Wood Lay In close, 
 Billowy Masses Of     Leaf, The     Oaks Vividly Green, The     Beeches Already 
 Aflame. 
   
   
   
 'Who Says There'S A War?' Said Captain Chicksands, Sinking 
 Luxuriously Into A Sunny Bed of     Dry Leaves, Conveniently Placed in 
 Front Of     Elizabeth. 'Miss Bremerton, You And I Were, I Understand, 
 At The     Same University?' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Assented. 
   
   
   
 'Is It Your Opinion That Universities Are Any Good?--That After The 
 War There Are Going to Be Any Universities?' 
   
   
   
 'Only Those That Please The     Labour Party!' Put In mannering. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, I'M Not Afraid Of     The     Labour Party--Awfully Good Fellows, Many 
 Of Them. The     Sooner They Make A Government The     Better. They'Ve Got 
 To Learn Their Lessons Like The     Rest Of     Us. But I Do Want To Know 
 Whether Miss Bremerton Thinks Oxford Was Any _Use_--Before The 
 War--And Is Going to Be Any Use After The     War? It'S All Right Now, 
 Of Course, For The     Moment, With The     Colleges Full Of     Cadets And 
 Wounded men. But Would You Put The     Old Oxford Back If You Could?' 
   
   
   
 He Lay On His Elbows Looking up At Her. Elizabeth'S Eyes Sparkled a 
 Little. She Realized that An Able Man Was Experimenting on Her, 
 Putting her Through Her Paces. She Asked what He Meant By 'The Old 
 Oxford,' And An Amusing dialogue Sprang Up Between Them As To Their 
 Respective Recollections Of     The     Great University--The Dons, The 
 Lectures, The     Games, The     Eights, 'Commem.' And The     Like. The     Captain 
 Presently Declared that Elizabeth Had Had A Much Nicer Oxford Than 
 He, And He Wished he Had Been A Female Student. 
   
   
   
   
 'Didn'T You--Didn'T You,' He Said, His Keen Eyes Observing her, 'Get 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 112 
 A Prize Once That Somebody Had Given To The     Women'S Colleges For 
 Some Greek Iambics?' 
   
   
   
 'Oh,' Cried elizabeth, 'How Did You Hear Of     That?' 
   
   
   
 'I Was Rather A Dab At Them Myself,' He Said Lazily, Drawing his Hat 
 Over His Eyes As He Lay In the     Sun, 'And I Perfectly Remember 
 Hearing of     A Young Lady--Yes, I Believe It Was You!--Whose 
 Translation Of     Browning'S "Lost Leader" Into Greek Iambics Was 
 Better Than Mine. They Set It In the     Ireland. You Admit It? Capital! 
 As To The     Superiority Of     Yours, I Was, Of     Course, Entirely 
 Sceptical, Though Polite. Remind Me, How Did You Translate "Just For 
 A Ribbon To Put On His Coat"?' 
   
   
   
 With A Laughing mouth, Elizabeth At Once Quoted the     Greek. 
   
   
   
 The Captain Made A Wry Face. 
   
   
   
 'It Sounds Plausible, I Agree,' He Said Slowly, 'But I Don'T Believe 
 A Greek Would Have Understood A Word Of     It. You Remember That In the 
 Dim Victorian Ages, When One Great Latin Scholar Gave, As He 
 Thought, The     Neatest Possible Translation Of     "The Path Of     Glory 
 Leads But To The     Grave," Another Great Latin Scholar Declared that 
 All A Roman Could Have Understood By It Would Have Been "The Path Of 
 A Public Office Leads To The     Jaws Of     The     Hillock"?' 
   
   
   
 The Old Oxford Joke Was New In the     Ears Of     This Georgian Generation, 
 And When The     Laugh Subsided, Elizabeth Said Mildly: 
   
   
   
 'Now, Please, May I Have Yours?' 
   
   
   
 'What--My Translation? Oh--Horribly Unfair!' Said The     Captain, 
 Chewing a Piece Of     Grass. 'However, Here It Is!' 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 113 
 He Gave It Out--With Unction. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Fell Upon It In a Flash, Dissected and Quarrelled with 
 Every Word Of     It, Turned it Inside Out In fact, While The     Captain, 
 Still Chewing, Followed her With Eyes Of     Growing enjoyment. 
   
   
   
 'Well, I'Ll Take A Vote When I Get Back To The     Front,' He Said, When 
 She Came To An End. 'Several Firsts In mods On Our Staff. I'Ll Send 
 You The     Result.' 
   
   
   
 The Talk Dropped. The     Mention Of     The     Front Reminded every One Of     The 
 War, And Its Bearing on Their Own Personal Lot. Desmond Was Going 
 Into Camp That Evening. In a Few Months He Would Be A Full-Blown 
 Gunner At The     Front. Beryl, Watching aubrey'S Thin Face And Nervous 
 Frown, Proved inwardly That The     Aldershot Appointment Might Go On. 
 And Elizabeth'S Thoughts Had Flown To Her Brother In mesopotamia. 
   
   
   
 Pamela, Sitting apart, And Deeply Shaded by A Great Beech With 
 Drooping branches That Rose Behind The     Group, Was Sharply Unhappy, 
 And Filled with A Burning jealousy Of     Elizabeth, Who Queened it 
 There In the     Middle Of     Them--So Self-Possessed, Agreeable, And 
 Competent. How Well Arthur Had Been Getting on With Her! What A 
 Tiresome, Tactless Idiot She, Pamela, Must Seem In comparison! The 
 Memory Of     Her Talk With Him Made Her Cheeks Hot. So Few Chances Of 
 Seeing him!--And When They Came, She Threw Them Away. She Felt For 
 The Moment As Though She Hated elizabeth. Why Had Her Father Saddled 
 Her Upon Them? Life Was Difficult Enough Before. Passionately She 
 Began To Think Of     Her Threat To Arthur. It Had Been The     Merest 'Idle 
 Word.' But Why Shouldn'T She Realize It--Why Not 'Run Away'? There 
 Was Work To Be Done, And Money To Be Earned, By Any Able-Bodied 
 Girl. And Perhaps Then, When She Was On Her Own, And Had Proved that 
 She Was Not A Child Any Longer, Arthur Would Respect Her More, Take 
 More Interest In her. 
   
   
   
 'What Do You Prophesy?' Said Elizabeth Suddenly, Addressing arthur 
 Chicksands, Who Seemed to Be Asleep In the     Grass. 'Will It End--By 
 Next Summer?' 
   
   
   
   
 'What, The     War?' He Said, Waking up. 'Oh Dear, No. Next Year Will Be 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 114 
 The Worst Of     Any--The Test Of     Us All--Especially Of     You Civilians At 
 Home. If We Stick It, We Shall Save Ourselves And The     World. If We 
 Don'T--' 
   
   
   
 He Shrugged his Shoulders. His Voice Was Full And Deep. It Thrilled 
 The Girl Sitting in the     Shade--Partly With Fear. In three Weeks Or 
 So, The     Speaker Would Be Back In the     Full Inferno Of     The     Front, And 
 Because Of     Her Father'S Behaviour She Would Probably Not Be Able To 
 See Him In the     Interval. Perhaps She Might Never See Him Again. 
 Perhaps This Was The     Last Time. And He Would Go Away Without Giving 
 Her A Thought. Whereas, If She Had Played her Cards Differently, 
 This One Last Day, He Might At Least Have Asked her To Write To Him. 
 Many Men Did--Even With Girls They Hardly Knew At All. 
   
   
   
 Just Then She Noticed a Movement Of     Beryl'S, And Saw Her Friend'S 
 Small Bare Hand Creep Out And Slip Itself Into Aubrey Mannering'S, 
 As He Sat Beside Her On The     Grass. The     Man'S Hand Enfolded the 
 Girl'S--He Turned round To Smile At Her In silence. A Pang Of 
 Passionate Envy Swept Through Pamela. It Was Just So She Wished to 
 Be Enfolded--To Be Loved. 
   
   
   
 It Was Elizabeth--As The     Person Who Had Business To Do And Hours To 
 Keep--Who Gave The     Signal For The     Break-Up Of     The     Party. She Sprang 
 To Her Feet, With A Light, Decided movement, And All The     Others Fell 
 Into Line. Arthur And Beryl Still Accompanied the     Mannering 
 Contingent A Short Distance, The     Captain Walking beside Elizabeth In 
 Animated conversation. At Last Beryl Peremptorily Recalled him To 
 The Pony-Carriage, And The     Group Halted for Good-Byes. 
   
   
   
 Pamela Stood Rather Stiffly Apart. The     Captain Went Up To Her. 
   
   
   
 'Good-Bye, Pamela. Do Write To Me Sometimes! I Shall Be Awfully 
 Interested about The     Farms!' 
   
   
   
 With Vexation She Felt The     Colour Rush To Her Cheeks. 
   
   
   
   
 'I Shan'T Have Much To Say About Them,' She Said Stiffly. 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 115 
   
   
   
 'I'M Sure You Will! You'Ll Get Keen! But Write About Anything. It'S 
 Awfully Jolly To Get Letters At The     Front!' 
   
   
   
 His Friendly, Interrogating eyes Were On Her, As Though She Puzzled 
 Him In this New Phase, And He Wanted to Understand Her. She Said 
 Hurriedly, 'If You Like,' Hating herself For The     Coolness In her 
 Voice, And Shook Hands, Only To Hear Him Say, As He Turned finally 
 To Elizabeth, 'Mind, You Have Promised me "The Battle Of     The 
 Plough"! I'M Afraid You'Ll Hardly Have Time To Put It Into Iambics!' 
   
   
   
 So He Had Asked miss Bremerton To Write To Him Too! Pamela Vowed 
 Inwardly That In that Case She Would Not Write Him A Line. And It 
 Seemed to Her Unseemly That Her Father'S Secretary Should Be Making 
 Mock Of     Her Father'S Proceedings With A Man Who Was A Complete 
 Stranger To Her. She Walked impetuously Ahead Of     Aubrey And 
 Elizabeth. Towards The     West The     Beautiful Day Was Dying, And The 
 Light Streamed on The     Girl'S Lithe Young Figure And Caught Her 
 Golden-Brown Hair. Clouds Of     Gnats Rose In the     Mild Air; And A Light 
 Seemed to Come Back From The     Bronzed and Purple Hedgerows, Making a 
 Gorgeous Atmosphere, In which The     Quiet Hill-Top And The     Thinning 
 Trees Swam Transfigured. A Green Woodpecker Was Pecking 
 Industriously Among Some Hedgerow Oaks, And Pamela, Who Loved birds 
 And Watched them, Caught Every Now And Then The     Glitter Of     His 
 Flight. The     World Was Dropping towards Sleep. But She Was Burningly 
 Awake And Alive. Had She Ever Been Really Alive Before? 
   
   
   
 Then--Suddenly She Remembered desmond. He Was To Be Home From Some 
 Farewell Visits Between Five And Six. She Would Be Late; He Might 
 Want Her For A Hundred things. His Last Evening! Her Heart Smote 
 Her. They Had Reached the     Park Gates. Waving her Hand To The     Two 
 Behind, With The     One Word 'Desmond!' She Began To Run, And Was Soon 
 Out Of     Their Sight. 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth And Aubrey Were Not Long Behind Her. They Found The     House 
 Indeed pervaded with Desmond, And Desmond'S Going. Aubrey Also Was 
 Going up To Town, But Of     Him Nobody Took Any Notice. Pamela And 
 Forest Were In attendance On The     Young Warrior, Who Was Himself In 
   
 The Wildest Spirits, Shouting and Whistling up And Downstairs, 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 116 
 Singing the     Newest And Most Shocking of     Camp Songs, Chaffing forest, 
 And Looking with Mischievous Eyes At The     Various Knitted 'Comforts' 
 To Which His Married sisters Were Hastily Putting the     Last Stitches. 
   
   
   
 'I Say, Pam--Do You See Me In mittens?' He Said To Her In the     Hall, 
 Thrusting out His Two Splendid Hands With A Grin. 'And As For That 
 Jersey Of     Alice'S--Why, I Should Stew To Death In it. Oh, I Know--I 
 Can Give It To My Batman. The     Fellows Tell Me You Can Always Get Rid 
 Of Things To Your Batman. It'S Like Sending your Wedding-Presents To 
 The Pawn-Shop. But Where Is Father?' The     Boy Looked discontentedly 
 At His Watch. 'He Vowed he'D Be Here By Five. I Must Be Off By A Few 
 Minutes After Eight.' 
   
   
   
 'The Train'S Late. He'Ll Be Here Directly,' Said Pamela Confidently; 
 'And I Say--Don'T You Hurt Alice'S Feelings, Old Man.' 
   
   
   
 'Don'T You Preach, Pam!' Said The     Boy, Laughing. And A Few Minutes 
 Afterwards Pamela, Passing the     Open Door Of     The     Drawing-Room, Heard 
 Him Handsomely Thanking his Elder Sisters. He Ran Into Her As He 
 Emerged with His Arms Full Of     Scarves, Mittens, And The     Famous 
 Jersey Which Had Taken Alice Gaddesden A Year To Knit. 
   
   
   
 'Stuff 'Em In somewhere, Pam!' He Said In her Ear. 'They Can Go Up 
 To London Anyway.' And Having shovelled them All Off On To Her, He 
 Raced along The     Passage To The     Library In search Of     Elizabeth. 
   
   
   
 'I Say, Miss Bremerton, I Want A Book Or Two.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Looked up Smiling from Her Table. She Was Already Of     The 
 Same Mind As Everybody Outside And Inside Mannering--That Desmond 
 Did You A Kindness When He Asked you To Do Him One. 
   
   
   
 'What Kind Of     A Book?' 
   
   
   
   
 'Oh, I'Ve Got Some Novels, And Some Nat Goulds, And Pamela'S Given 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 117 
 Me Some War-Books. Don'T Know If I Shall Read 'Em!--Well, I'D Like A 
 Small Horace, If You Can Find One. "My Tutor" Was An Awfully Good 
 Hand At Horace. He Really Did Make Me Like The     Old Chap! And Have 
 You Got Such A Thing as A Greek Anthology That Wouldn'T Take Up Much 
 Room?' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Went To The     Shelves To Look. Desmond As The     Possessor Of 
 Literary Tastes Was A Novelty To Her. But, After All, She Understood 
 That He Had Been A Half In the     Sixth At Eton, Before His Cadet 
 Training began. She Found Him Two Small Pocket Editions, And The     Boy 
 Thanked her Gratefully. He Began To Turn Over The     Anthology, As 
 Though Searching for Something. 
   
   
   
 'Can I Help You To Find Anything?' She Asked him. 
   
   
   
 'No--It'S Something i Remember,' He Said Absently, And Presently 
 Hit Upon It, With A Look Of     Pleasure. 
   
   
   
 'They Did Know A Thing or Two, Didn'T They? That'S Fine Anyway?' He 
 Handed her The     Book. 'But I Forget Some Of     The     Words. Do You Mind 
 Giving me A Construe?' He Said Humbly. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Translated, Feeling rather Choky. 
   
   
   
 '"On The     Spartans At Thermopylæ. 
   
   
   
 '"Him--"' 
   
   
   
 'That'S Xerxes, Of     Course,' Put In desmond. 
   
   
   
 '"Him, Who Changed the     Paths Of     Earth And Sea, Who Sailed upon The 
 Mainland, And Walked upon The     Deep--Him Did Spartan Valour Hold 
   
 Back, With Just Three Hundred spears. Shame On You, Mountains And 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 118 
 Seas!"' 
   
   
   
 'Well, That'S All Right, Isn'T It?' Said The     Boy Simply, Looking up. 
 'Couldn'T Put It Better If You Tried, Could You?' Then He Said, 
 Hesitating a Little As He Turned down The     Leaf, And Put The     Book In 
 His Pocket, 'Five Of     The     Fellows Who Were In the     Sixth With Me This 
 Time Last Year Are Dead By Now. It Makes You Think A Bit, Doesn'T 
 It?--Hullo, There Is Father!' 
   
   
   
 He Turned joyously, His Young Figure Finely Caught In the     Light Of 
 Elizabeth'S Lamp Against The     Background Of     The     Nikê. 
   
   
   
 'Well, Father You Have Been A Time! I Thought You'D Forgotten 
 Altogether I Was Off To-Night.' 
   
   
   
 'The Train Was Abominably Late. Travelling is Becoming a Perfect 
 Nuisance! I Gave The     Station-Master A Piece Of     My Mind,' Said The 
 Squire Angrily. 
   
   
   
 'And I Expect He Said That You Civilians Jolly Well Have To Wait For 
 The Munition Trains!' 
   
   
   
 'He Muttered some Nonsense Of     That Sort. I Didn'T Listen To Him.' 
 The Squire Threw Himself Down In an Arm-Chair. Desmond Perched on 
 The Corner Of     A Table Near. Elizabeth Discreetly Took Up Her Work 
 And Disappeared. 
   
   
   
 'How Much Time Have You Got?' Asked the     Squire Abruptly. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, A Few Minutes. Aubrey And I Are To Have Some Supper Before I 
 Go. But Forest'Ll Come And Tell Me.' 
   
   
   
 'Everything ready? Got Money Enough?' 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 119 
   
   
 'Rather! I Shan'T Want Anything for An Age. Why, I Shall Be Buying 
 War-Loan Out Of     My Pay!' 
   
   
   
 He Laughed happily. Then His Face Grew Suddenly Serious. 
   
   
   
 'Look Here, Father--I Want Awfully To Say Something. Do You Mind?' 
   
   
   
 'If You Want To Say It, I Suppose You Will Say It.' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Was Sitting hunched up, Looking old And Tired, His Thick 
 White Hair Piled fantastically Above His Eyes. 
   
   
   
 Desmond Straightened his Shoulders With The     Air Of     One Going over 
 The Parapet. 
   
   
   
 'Well, It'S This, Father. I Do Wish You'D Give Up That Row About The 
 Park!' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Sat Up Impatiently. 
   
   
   
 'That'S Not Your Business, Desmond. It Can'T Matter To You.' 
   
   
   
 'Yes, But It _Does_ Matter To Me!' Said The     Boy With Energy. 'It'Ll 
 Be In all The     Papers--The Fellows Will Gas About It At Mess--It'S 
 Awfully Hard Lines On Me. It Makes Me Feel Rotten!' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Laughed. He Was Reminded of     A Fourth Of     June Years 
 Before, When Desmond Had Gone Through Agonies Of     Shame Because 
 His Father Was Not, In his Eyes, Properly 'Got-Up' For The 
 Occasion--How He Had Disappeared in the     High Street, And Only 
 Joined his People Again In the     Crowd At The     Fireworks. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 120 
   
   
 'I Recommend You To Stick It, Desmond. It Won'T Last Long. I'Ve Got 
 My Part To Play, And You'Ve Got Yours. You Fight Because They Make 
 You.' 
   
   
   
 'I _Don'T!_' Said The     Boy Passionately. 'I Fight Because--' 
   
   
   
 Then His Words Broke Down. He Descended from The     Table. 
   
   
   
 'Well, All Right, Father. I Suppose It'S No Good Talking. Only If 
 You Think I Shan'T Mind If You Get Yourself Put In quad, You'Re 
 Jolly Well Mistaken. Hullo, Forest! I'M Coming!' 
   
   
   
 He Hurried off, The     Squire Moving slowly After Him. In the     Hour 
 Before The     Boy Departed he Was The     Spoilt Darling of     His Sisters And 
 The Servants, Who Hung Round Him, And Could Not Do Enough For Him. 
 He Endured it, On The     Whole, Patiently Dashing out At The     Very End 
 To Say Good-Bye To An Old Gardener, Once A Keeper, With Whom He Used 
 To Go Ferreting in the     Park. To His Father Alone His Manner Was Not 
 Quite As Usual. It Was The     Manner Of     One Who Had Been Hurt. The 
 Squire Felt It. 
   
   
   
 As To His Elder Son, He And Aubrey Parted without Any Outward Sign 
 Of Discord, And On The     Way To London Aubrey, With The     Dry Detachment 
 That Was Natural To Him In speaking of     Himself, Told The     Story Of 
 The Preceding twenty-Four Hours To The     Eager Desmond'S Sympathetic 
 Ears. 'Well Done, Broomie!' Was The     Boy'S Exultant Comment On The 
 Tale Of     The     Codicil. 
   
   
   
 The House After Desmond'S Departure Settled dreamily Down. Pamela, 
 With Red eyes, Retreated to The     Schoolroom, And Began To Clear Up 
 The Debris Left By The     Packing; Alice Gaddesden Went To Sleep In 
 The Drawing-Room; Mrs. Strang Wrote Urgent Letters To Registry 
 Offices, Who Now Seldom Answered her; The     Squire Was In the     Library, 
 And Elizabeth Retreated early To Her Own Room. She Spent A Good Deal 
 Of Time In writing up A Locked diary, And Finishing up A Letter To 
   
 Her Mother. Then She Saw To Her Astonishment That It Was Nearly One 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 121 
 O'Clock, And Began To Feel Sleepy. 
   
   
   
 The Night Was Warm, And Before Undressing she Put Out Her Light, And 
 Threw Up Her Window. There Was A Moon Nearly At The     Full Outside, 
 And Across The     Misty Stretches Of     The     Park The     Owls Were Calling. 
   
   
   
 Suddenly She Heard A Distant Footstep, And Drew Back From The 
 Window. A Man Was Pacing slowly Up And Down An Avenue Of     Pollarded 
 Limes Which Divided the     Rose-Garden From The     Park. His Figure Could 
 Only Be Intermittently Seen; But It Was Certainly The     Squire. 
   
   
   
 She Drew The     Curtains Again Without Shutting the     Window; And For 
 Long After She Was In bed she Still Heard The     Footstep. It Awakened 
 Many Trains Of     Thought In her--Of Her Own Position In this Household 
 Where She Seemed to Have Become Already Mistress And Indispensable; 
 Of Desmond'S Last Words With Her; Of     The     Relations Between Father 
 And Son; Of     Captain Chicksands And His Most Agreeable Company; Of 
 Pamela'S Evident Dislike Of     Her, And What She Could Do To Mend It. 
   
   
   
 As To Pamela, Elizabeth'S Thoughts Went Oddly Astray. She Was Vexed 
 With The     Girl For What Had Seemed to The     Elder Woman Her Young 
 Rudeness To A Gallant And Distinguished man. Why, She Had Scarcely 
 Spoken A Word To Him During the     Sitting on The     Hill! In some Way, 
 Elizabeth Supposed, Captain Chicksands Had Offended her--Had Not 
 Made Enough Of     Her Perhaps? But Girls Must Learn Now To Accept 
 Simpler And Blunter Manners From Their Men Friends. She Guessed that 
 Pamela Was In that Self-Conscious, _Exalté_ Mood Of     First Youth 
 Which She Remembered so Well In herself--Fretting too, No Doubt, 
 Poor Child! Over The     Parting from Desmond. Anyway She Seemed to Have 
 No Particular Interest In arthur Chicksands, Nor He In her, Though 
 His Tone In speaking to Her Had Been, Naturally, Familiar And 
 Intimate. But Probably He Was One Of     Those Able Men Who Have Little 
 To Say To The     Young Girl, And Keep Their Real Minds For The     Older 
 And Experienced woman. 
   
   
   
 At Any Rate, Elizabeth Dismissed from Her Mind Whatever Vague Notion 
 Or Curiosity As To A Possible Love-Affair For Pamela In that 
 Direction Might Have Been Lurking in it. And That Being so, She 
 Promptly, And Without _Arrière Pensée_ Of     Any Sort, Allowed herself 
 The Pleasant Recollection Of     Half An Hour'S Conversation Which Had 
 Put Her Intellectually On Her Mettle, And Quickened those Infant 
   
 Ambitions Of     A Practical And Patriotic Kind Which Were Beginning to 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 122 
 Rise In her. 
   
   
   
 But The     Squire'S Coming escapade! How To Stop It?--For Desmond'S 
 Sake Chiefly. 
   
   
   
 Dear Boy! It Was On A Tender, Almost Maternal Thought Of     Him That 
 She At Last Turned to Sleep. But The     Footstep Pursued her Ear. What 
 Was The     Meaning of     This Long Nocturnal Pacing? Had The     Squire, After 
 All, A Heart, Or Some Fragment Of     One? Was It The     Parting from 
 Desmond That Thus Kept Him From His Bed? She Would Have Liked to 
 Think It--But Did Not Quite Succeed! 
   
   
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 7 Pg 123 
 A Week Or Two Had Passed. 
   
   
   
 The Squire Was On His Way To Inspect His Main Preparations For The 
 Battle At The     Park Gates, Which He Expected on The     Morrow. He Had 
 Been Out Before Breakfast That Morning, On Horseback, With One Of 
 The Gardeners, To See That All The     Gates On The     Estate, Except The 
 Chetworth Gate, Were Locked and Padlocked. For The     Chetworth Gate, 
 Which Adjoined the     Land To Be Attacked, More Serious Defences Were 
 In Progress. 
   
   
   
 All His Attempts To Embarrass The     Action Of     The     Committee Had Been 
 So Far Vain. The     Alternatives He Had Proposed had Been Refused. 
 Fifty Acres At The     Chetworth End Of     Mannering park, Besides Goodly 
 Slices Elsewhere, The     County Committee Meant To Have. As The     Squire 
 Would Not Plough Them Himself, And As The     Season Was Advancing, He 
 Had Been Peremptorily Informed that The     Motor Plough Belonging to 
   
 The County Committee Would Be Sent Over On Such A Day, With So Many 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 124 
 Men, To Do The     Work; The     Land Had Been Surveyed; No Damage Would Be 
 Done To The     Normal State Of     The     Property That Could Be Avoided; Et 
 Cetera. 
   
   
   
 So The     Crisis Was At Hand. The     Squire Felt Battle In his Blood. 
   
   
   
 As He Walked along Through His Domain, Exhilarated by The     Bright 
 Frosty Morning, And Swinging his Stick Like A Boy, He Was In the 
 True Quixotic Mood, Ready To Tilt At Any Wind-Mill In his Path. The 
 State Of     The     Country, The     State Of     The     War, The     State Of     His Own 
 Affairs, Had Produced in him A Final Ferment Of     Resentment And 
 Disgust Which Might Explode In any Folly. 
   
   
   
 Why Not Go To Prison? He Thought He Could Bear It. A Man Must Stand 
 By His Opinions--Even Through Sacrifice. It Would Startle The     Public 
 Into Attention. Such Outrages On The     Freedom, On The     Ancient Rights 
 Of Englishmen, Must Not Pass Without Protest. Yes--He Felt It In him 
 To Be A Martyr! They Would Hardly Refuse Him A Pocket Homer In 
 Prison. 
   
   
   
 What, A Month? Three Weeks, In actual Practice. Luckily He Cared 
 Nothing at All About Food--Though He Refused to Be Rationed by A 
 Despotic Government. On A Handful Of     Dates And A Bit Of     Coarse Bread 
 He Had Passed many A Day Of     Hard Work When He Was Excavating in the 
 East. One Can Always Starve--For A Purpose! The     Squire Conceived 
 Himself As Out For Magna Charta--The Root Principles Of     British 
 Liberty. As For Those Chattering fellows Of     The     Labour Party, Let 
 Them Conquer England If They Could. While The     Government Ploughed up 
 His Land Without Leave, The     Socialists Would Strip Him Of     It 
 Altogether. Well, Nothing for It But To _Fight_! If One Went Down, 
 One Went Down--But At Least Honourably. 
   
   
   
 In The     _Times_ That Morning there Was A Report Of     A Case In the 
 North, A Landowner Fined £100, For Letting a Farm Go To Waste For 
 The Game'S Sake. And Miss Bremerton Had Been Holding up The     Like 
 Fate To Him That Morning--Because Of     Holme Wood. A Woman Of     Parts 
 That!--Too Clever!--A Disputatious Creature, Whom A Man Would Like 
 To Put Down. But It Wasn'T Easy; She Slipped out Of     Your Grip--Gave 
   
 You Unexpected tits For Tats. One Would Have Thought After That 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 125 
 Business With The     Will, She Would Be Anxious To Make Up--To Show 
 Docility. In such A Relation One Expected docility. But Not A Bit Of 
 It! She Grew Bolder. The     Squire Admitted uncomfortably That It Was 
 His Own Fault--Only, In fact, What He Deserved for Making a 
 Land-Agent, Accountant, And Legal Adviser Out Of     A Poor Lady Who Had 
 Merely Engaged herself To Be His Private Secretary For Classical 
 Purposes. 
   
   
   
 All The     Same He Confessed that She Had Never Yet Neglected the 
 Classical Side Of     Her Duties. His Thoughts Contrasted the     Library 
 And The     Collections As They Were Now, With What They Had Been A 
 Couple Of     Months Before. Now He Knew Where Books Could Be Found; Now 
 One Could See The     Precious Things He Possessed. Her Taste--Her 
 Neatness--Her Diligence--Nothing could Beat Them. And She Moved so 
 Quietly--Had So Light A Foot--And Always A Pleasant Voice And Smile. 
 Oh Yes, She Had Been A Great Catch--An Astonishing catch--No Doubt 
 Of That. All The     Same He Was Not Going to Be Entirely Governed by 
 Her! And Again He Thought Complacently Of     The     Weak Places In her 
 Scholarship--The Very Limited extent Of     Her Reading--Compared to 
 His. 'By Zeus!--[Greek: Ei Pot' Estin]--If It Weren'T For That, I 
 Should Never Keep The     Whip-Hand Of     Her At All!' 
   
   
   
 She Had Made A Forlorn Attempt Again, That Morning, To Dissuade Him 
 From The     Park Adventure. But There He Drew The     Line. For There 
 Really Was A Line, Though He Admitted it Might Be Difficult To See, 
 Considering all That He Was Shovelling upon Her. He Had Been Very 
 Short--Perhaps She Would Say, Very Rude--With Her. Well, It Couldn'T 
 Be Helped! When She Saw What He Was Really Prepared to Face, She 
 Would At Least Respect Him. And If He Was Shut Up, She Could Get On 
 With The     Catalogue, And Keep Things Going. 
   
   
   
 Altogether The     Squire Was Above Himself. The     Tonic Air And Scents 
 Of The     Autumn, The     Crisp Leaves Underfoot, The     Slight Frost On The 
 Ruts, Helped his General Intoxication. He, The     Supposed scholar And 
 Recluse, Was About To Play A Part--A Rattling part. The     Eye Of 
 England Would Be Upon Him! He Already Tasted the     Prison Fare, And 
 Found It Quite Tolerable. 
   
   
   
 As To Desmond-- 
   
   
   
 But The     Thought Of     Him No Sooner Crossed the     Squire'S Mind Than He 
   
 Dismissed it. Or Rather It Survived far Within, As A Volcanic Force, 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 126 
 From Which The     Outer Froth And Ferment Drew Half Its Strength. He 
 Was Being forcibly Dispossessed of     Desmond, Just As He Was Being 
 Forcibly Dispossessed of     His Farms And His Park; Or Of     His Money, 
 Swallowed up In monstrous Income Tax. 
   
   
   
 Ah, There Were Dodge And Perley, The     Two Park-Keepers, One Of     Whom 
 Lived in the     White Lodge, Now Only A Hundred yards Away. Another Man 
 Who Was Standing by Them, Near The     Park Wall, Looked to The     Squire 
 Like Gregson, His Ejected farmer. And Who Was That Black-Coated 
 Fellow Coming through The     Small Wicket-Gate Beside The     Big One? What 
 The Devil Was He Doing in the     Park? There Was A Permanent Grievance 
 In The     Squire'S Mind Against The     Various Rights-Of-Way Through His 
 Estate. Why Shouldn'T He Be At Liberty To Shut Out That Man If He 
 Wanted to? Of     Course By The     Mere Locking and Barricading of     The 
 Gates, As They Would Be Locked and Barricaded on The     Morrow, He Was 
 Flouting the     Law. But That Was A Trifle. The     _Gates_ Were His Own 
 Anyway. 
   
   
   
 The Black-Coated man, However, Instead Of     Proceeding along The     Road, 
 Had Now Approached the     Group Of     Men Standing under The     Wall, And 
 Was Talking with Them. They Themselves Did Not Seem To Be Doing 
 Anything, Although A Large Coil Of     Barbed wire And A Number Of 
 Hurdles Lay Near Them. 
   
   
   
 'Hullo, Dodge!' 
   
   
   
 At The     Squire'S Voice The     Black-Coated man Withdrew A Little 
 Distance To The     Roadway, Where He Stood Watching. Of     The     Three 
 Others The     Two Old Fellows, Ex-Keepers Both Of     Them, Stood 
 Sheepishly Silent, As The     Squire Neared them. 
   
   
   
 'Well, My Men, Good-Morning! What Have You Done?' Said The     Squire 
 Peremptorily. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 127 
 Dodge Looked up. 
   
   
   
 'We'Ve Put A Bit Of     Wire On The     Gate, Squoire, An' Fastened the 
 Latch Of     It Up--And We'Ve Put A Length Or Two Along The     Top Of     The 
 Wall,' Said The     Old Man Slowly--'An' Then--' He Paused. 
   
   
   
 'Then What?--What About The     Hurdles? I Expected to Find Them All Up 
 By Now!' 
   
   
   
 Dodge Looked at Perley. And Perley, A Gaunt, Ugly Fellow, Who Had 
 Been A Famous Hunter And Trapper In his Day, Took Off His Hat And 
 Mopped his Brow, Before He Said, In a Small, Cautious Voice, 
 Entirely Out Of     Keeping with The     Rest Of     Him: 
   
   
   
 'The Treuth On It Is, Squoire, We Don'T Loike The     Job. We Be Afeard 
 Of Their Havin' The     Law On Us.' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, You'Re Afraid, Are You?' Said The     Squire Angrily. '_You_ Won'T 
 Stand Up For Your Rights, Anyway!' 
   
   
   
 Perley Looked at His Employer A Little Askance. 
   
   
   
 'They'Re Not _Our_ Rights, If You Please, Muster Mannering. We Don'T 
 Have Nothing to Say To 'Un.' 
   
   
   
 'They Are Your Rights, You Foolish Fellow! If This Abominable 
 Government Tramples On Me To-Day, It'Ll Trample On You To-Morrow.' 
   
   
   
 'Mebbe, Squoire, Mebbe,' Said Perley Mildly. 'But Dodge And I Don'T 
 Feel Loike Standing up To 'Un. We Was Engaged to Mind The     Roads An' 
 The Leaves, An' A Bit Rabbitin', An' Sich Like. But This Sort Of     Job 
 Is Somethin' Out O' The     Common, Muster Mannering. We Don'T Hold Wi' 
 It. The     County They'Ve Got A Powerful Big Road-Engine, Squoire. 
 They'Ll Charge Them Gates To-Morrow--There 'Ll Be A Terr'Ble To Do. 
   
 My Wife, She'S Frightened to Death. She'S Got A Cart From Laycocks, 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 128 
 And She'S Takin' All Our Bit Things Over To Her Mother'S. She Won'T 
 Stay, She Says, To Be Blowed up, Not For No One. Them Governments Is 
 Terr'Ble Powerful, Squoire. If They Was To Loose A Bit O' Gas On 
 Us--Or Some O' They Stuffs They Put Into Shells? Noa, Noa, 
 Squoire'--Perley Shook His Head Resolutely, Imitated exactly By 
 Dodge--'We'Ll Do Our Dooty In them Things We Was Engaged to Do. But 
 We'Re Not Foightin' Men!' 
   
   
   
 'You Needn'T Tell Me That!' Said The     Squire, Exasperated. 'The Look 
 Of You'S Enough. So You Refuse To Barricade Those Gates?' 
   
   
   
 'Well, We Do, Squoire,' Said Perley, In a Tone Of     Forced 
 Cheerfulness. 
   
   
   
 'Yes, We Do,' Said Dodge Slowly, Copying the     Manner Of     His Leader. 
   
   
   
 All This Time Gregson Had Been Standing a Little Apart From The 
 Rest. His Face Showed traces Of     Recent Drinking, His Hands Wandered 
 Restlessly From His Coat-Collar To His Pockets, His Clothes Were 
 Shabby And Torn. But When The     Squire Looked round Him, As Though 
 Invoking some One Or Something to Aid Him Against These Deserters, 
 Gregson Came Forward. 
   
   
   
 'If You Want Any Help, Mr. Mannering, I'M Your Man. I Suppose These 
 Fellows'Ll Lend A Hand With Carrying these Things Up To The     Gates. 
 They'Ll Not Risk Their Precious Skins Much By Doing that!' 
   
   
   
 Perley And Dodge Replied with Alacrity That So Far They Would Gladly 
 Oblige The     Squire, And They Began To Shoulder The     Hurdles. 
   
   
   
 It Was At That Moment That The     Squire Caught The     Eye Of     The 
 Black-Coated man, Who Had Been Observing the     Whole Proceedings From 
 About Ten Yards Off. The     Expression Of     The     Eye Roused in mannering 
 An Itching desire To Lay Immediate Hands On Its Possessor. He Strode 
 Up To Him. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 129 
 'I Don'T Know, Sir, Why You Stand There, Looking on At Things That 
 Are No Business Of     Yours,' He Said Angrily. 'If You Want To Know 
 Your Way Anywhere, One Of     My Men Here Will Show You.' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, Thank You,' Said The     Other Tranquilly. 'I Know My Way 
 Perfectly.' He Held Up An Ordnance Map, Which He Carried in his 
 Hand. 'I'M An Engineer. I Come From London, And I'M Bound For A Job 
 At Crewe. But I'M Very Fond Of     Country Walking when The     Weather'S 
 Good. I'Ve Walked about A Good Bit Of     England, In my Time, But This 
 Part Is A Bit I Don'T Know. So, As I Had Two Days' Holiday, I 
 Thought I'D Have A Look At Your Place On The     Road. And As You Are 
 Aware, Mr. Mannering'--He Pointed to The     Map--'This Is A 
 Right-Of-Way, And You Can'T Turn Me Out.' 
   
   
   
 'All The     Same, Sir, You Are On My Property,' Said The     Squire Hotly, 
 'And A Right-Of-Way Only Means A Right Of     Passing through. I Should 
 Be Much Obliged if You Would Hurry Yourself A Little.' 
   
   
   
 The Other Laughed. He Was A Slim Fellow, Apparently About Thirty, In 
 A Fresh, Well-Cut, Serge Suit. A Book Was Sticking out Of     One 
 Pocket; He Returned the     Map To The     Other. He Had The     Sallow Look Of 
 One Who Has Spent Years In hot Workshops, And A Slight Curvature Of 
 The Spine; But His Eyes Were Singularly, Audaciously Bright, And All 
 His Movements Alert And Decided. 
   
   
   
 'It'S Not Often One Sees Such A Typical Bit Of     Feudalism As This,' 
 He Said, Without The     Smallest Embarrassment, Pointing to The     Old 
 Men, The     Gates, The     Hurdles, Which Gregson Was Now Placing in 
 Position, And Finally The     Squire Himself. 'I Wouldn'T Have Missed it 
 For Worlds. It'S As Good As A Play. You'Re Fighting the     County 
 Agricultural War Committee, I Understand From These Old Fellows, 
 Because They Want A Bit Of     Your Park To Grow More Food?' 
   
   
   
 'Well, Sir, And How Does It Matter To You?' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, It Matters A Great Deal,' Said The     Other, Smiling. 'I Want To 
 Be Able To Tell My Grandchildren--When I Get 'Em--That I Once Saw 
 This Kind Of     Thing. They'Ll Never Believe Me. For In their Day, You 
 See, There'Ll Be No Squires, And No Parks. The     Land 'Ll Be The 
 People'S, And All This Kind Of     Thing--_Your_ Gates, _Your_ Servants 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 130 
 _Your_ Fine House, _Your_ Game-Coverts, And All The     Rest Of     It--Will 
 Be Like A Bit Of     History Out Of     Noah'S Ark.' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Looked at Him Attentively. 
   
   
   
 'You'Re A Queer Kind Of     Chap,' He Said, Half Contemptuously. 'I 
 Suppose You'Re One Of     Those Revolutionary Fellows The     Papers Talk 
 About?' 
   
   
   
 'That'S It. Only There Are A Good Many Of     Us. When The     Time Comes,' 
 He Nodded pleasantly, 'We Shall Know How To Deal With You.' 
   
   
   
 'It'Ll Take A Good Deal Longer Than You Think,' Said The     Squire 
 Coolly; 'Unless Indeed you Borrow The     Chap From Russia Who'S 
 Invented the     Machine For Cutting off Five Hundred heads At Once, By 
 Electricity. That Might Hasten Matters A Little!' 
   
   
   
 He Had By Now Entirely Recovered his Chaffing, Reckless Temper, And 
 Was Half Enjoying the     Encounter. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, Not So Long,' Said The     Other. 'You'Re Just Passing a Franchise 
 Bill That Will Astonish You When You See The     Results! You Perhaps 
 May Just Live It Out--Yes, You May Die Peaceably In that House 
 Yonder. But Your Son, If You Have One--That'Ll Be Another Pair Of 
 Boots!' 
   
   
   
 'You And Your Pals Would Be Much Better Employed in stopping this 
 Accursed war Than In talking revolutionary Drivel Like That,' Said 
 The Squire, With Energy. 
   
   
   
 'Oh Ho! So You Want To Stop The     War?' Said The     Other, Lifting his 
 Eyebrows. 'I Should Like To Know Why.' 
   
   
   
   
 The Squire Went Off At Once Into One Of     His Usual Tirades As To 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 131 
 'Slavery' And 'Liberty.' 'You'Re Made To Work, Or Fight! 
 Willy-Nilly. That Man'S Turned out Of     His Farm--Willy-Nilly. I'M 
 Made To Turn Him Out--Willy-Nilly. The     Common Law Of     England'S 
 Trampled under Foot. What'S Worth It? Nothing!' 
   
   
   
 The Squire'S Thin Countenance Glowed fanatically. With His Arms 
 Akimbo He Stood Towering over The     Younger Man, His White Hair 
 Glistening in the     Sun. 
   
   
   
 The Other Smiled, As He Looked his Assailant Up And Down. 
   
   
   
 'Who'S The     Revolutionist Now?' He Said Quietly. 'What'S The     War Cost 
 _You_, Mr. Mannering, Compared to What It'S Cost Me And My Pals? 
 This Is The     First Holiday I'Ve Had For Three Years. Twice I'Ve 
 Dropped like Dead In the     Shop--Strained heart, Says The     Doctor. No 
 Time To Eat!--No Time To Sleep!--Come Out For An Hour, Wolf Some 
 Brandy Down And Go Back Again, And Then They Tell You You'Re A 
 Drunken Brute! "Shells And Guns!" Says The     Government--"More 
 Shells!--More Guns!--Deliver The     Goods!" And We'Ve Delivered 'Em. My 
 Two Brothers Are Dead In france. I Shall Be "Combed" Out Directly, 
 And A "Sniper" Will Get Me, Perhaps, Three Days After I Get To The 
 Trenches, As He Did My Young Brother. What Then? Oh, I Know, There'S 
 Some Of     Us--The Young Lads Mostly--Who'Ve Got Out Of     Hand, And 'Ll 
 Give The     Government Trouble Perhaps Before They'Ve Done. Who Can 
 Wonder, When You See The     Beastly Towns They Come Out Of, And The 
 Life They Were Reared in! And _None Of     Us_ Are Going to Stand 
 Profiteering, And Broken Pledges, And That Kind Of     Thing!'--A Sudden 
 Note Of     Passion Rushed into The     Man'S Voice. 'But After All, When 
 All'S Said And Done, This Is _England_!' He Turned with A Fine, 
 Unconscious Gesture To The     Woods And Green Spaces Behind Him, And 
 The Blue Distances Of     Plain--'And We'Re _Englishmen_--And It'S Touch 
 And Go Whether England'S Going to Come Out Or Go Under; And If We 
 Can'T Pay The     Huns For What They'Ve Done In belgium--What They'Ve 
 Done In france!--What They'Ve Done To Our Men On The     Sea!--Well, 
 It'S A Devil'S World!--And I'D Sooner Be Quit Of     It, It Don'T Matter 
 How!' 
   
   
   
 The Man'S Slight Frame Shook Under The     Force Of     His Testimony. His 
 Eyes Held The     Squire, Who Was For The     Moment Silenced. Then The 
 Engineer Turned on His Heel With A Laugh: 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 132 
   
 'Well, Good-Day To You, Mr. Mannering. Go And Fasten Up Your Gates! 
 If I'M For Minding d.O.R.A. And Winning the     War, I'M A Good 
 Socialist All The     Same. I Shall Be For Making short Work With You, 
 When Our Day Comes.' And Touching his Hat, He Walked rapidly Away. 
   
   
   
 The Squire Straightened his Shoulders, And Looked round To See 
 Whether They Had Been Overheard. But The     Labourers Carrying the 
 Hurdles, And Gregson Burdened with The     Coil Of     Wire, Had Not Been 
 Listening. They Stood Now In a Group Close To The     Main Gate Waiting 
 For Their Leader. The     Squire Walked up To Them, Picking his Way 
 Among Various Articles Of     Furniture, A Cradle, Some Bedding, A Trunk 
 Or Two, Which Lay Scattered in the     Road In front Of     The     White 
 Casemented lodge. The     Wife Of     Old Perley, The     Lodge-Keeper, Was 
 Standing on Her Doorstep. 
   
   
   
 'Well, No Offence, Muster Mannering, But Perley And Me'S Going over 
 To My Sister'S At Wood End To-Night, Afore The     Milingtary Come.' The 
 Black-Browed elderly Woman Spoke Respectfully But Firmly. 
   
   
   
 'What Silly Nonsense Have You Got Into Your Heads?' Shouted the 
 Squire. 'You Know Very Well All That'S Going to Happen Is That The 
 County Council Are Going to Send Their Motor-Plough Over, And 
 They'Ll Have To Break Down The     Gates To Get In, So That The     Law Can 
 Settle It. What'S Come To You That You'Re All Scuttling like A Pack 
 Of Rabbits? It'S Not Your Skins That'Ll Pay For It--It'S Mine!' 
   
   
   
 'We'Re Told--Perley An' Me--As There'Ll Be Miling_Tary_,' Said Mrs. 
 Perley, Unmoved. 'Leastways, They'Ll Bring a Road-Engine, Perley 
 Says, As'Ll Make Short Work O' Them Gates. And Folks Do Say As They 
 Might Even Bring a Tank Along; You Know, Sir, As There'S Plenty Of 
 'Em, And Not Fur Off.' She Nodded mysteriously Towards A Quarter, 
 Never Mentioned in the     Neighbourhood, Where These Behemoths Of     War 
 Had A Training-Ground. 'And Perley And Me, We Can'T Have Nowt To Do 
 Wi' Such Things. We Wasn'T Brought Up To 'Em.' 
   
   
   
 'Well, If You Go, You Don'T Come Back!' Said The     Squire, Shaking a 
 Threatening hand. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 133 
 'Thank You, Sir. But There'S Work For All On Us Nowadays,' Said The 
 Woman Placidly. 
   
   
   
 Then The     Squire, With Gregson'S Help, Set Himself Fiercely To The 
 Business. In little More Than An Hour, And With The     Help Of     Some 
 Pieces Of     Rope, The     Gate Had Been Firmly Barricaded with Hurdles And 
 Barbed wire, Wicket-Gate And All, And The     Squire, Taking a Poster In 
 Large Letters From His Pocket, Affixed it To The     Outside Of     The 
 Gate. It Signified to All And Sundry That The     Chetworth Gate Of 
 Mannering park Could Now Only Be Opened by Violence, And That Those 
 Offering such Violence Would Be Proceeded against According to Law. 
   
   
   
 When It Was Done, The     Squire First Addressed a Few Scathing words To 
 The Pair Of     Park-Keepers, Who Smoked imperturbably Through Them, And 
 Then Transferred a Pound-Note To The     Ready Palm Of     Gregson, Who Was, 
 It Seemed, On The     Point Of     Accepting work As A Stock-Keeper From 
 Another Of     The     Squire'S Farmers--A Brother Culprit, Only Less 
 'Hustled' Than Himself By The     Formidable County Committee, Which Was 
 Rapidly Putting the     Fear Of     God Into Every Bad Husbandman Throughout 
 Brookshire. Then The     Squire Hurried off Homewards. 
   
   
   
 His Chief Thought Now Was--What Would That Most Opinionated young 
 Woman At Home Say To Him? He Was At Once Burning to Have It Out With 
 Her, And--Though He Would Have Scorned to Confess It--Nervous As To 
 How He Might Get Through The     Encounter. 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 Fate, However, Ordained that His Thoughts About The     Person Who Had 
 Now Grown So Important To His Household Should Be Affected, Before 
 He Saw Her Again, From A New Quarter. The     Rector, Mr. Pennington, 
 Quite Unaware Of     The     Doughty Deeds That Had Been Done At The 
 Chetworth Gate, And Coming from His Own House Which Stood Within The 
 Park Enclosure, Ran Into The     Squire At A Cross-Road. 
   
   
   
 The Squire Looked at Him Askance, And Kept His Own Counsel. The 
 Rector Was A Man Of     Peace, And Had Once Or Twice Tried to Dissuade 
   
 The Squire From His Proposed acts Of     War. The     Squire, Therefore, Did 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 134 
 Not Mean To Discuss Them With Him. But, In general, He And The 
 Rector Were Good Friends. The     Rector Was A Bit Of     A Man Of     The 
 World, And Never Attempted to Put A Quart Into A Pint-Pot. He Took 
 The Squire As He Found Him, And Would Have Missed the     Hospitalities 
 Of The     Hall--Or Rather The     Conversation They Implied--If He Had Been 
 Obliged to Forgo Them. The     Squire On His Side Had Observed with 
 Approval That The     Rector Was A Fair Scholar, And A Bad Beggar. He 
 Could Take Up Quotations From Horace, And He Was Content With Such 
 Parish Subscriptions As The     Squire Had Given For Twenty Years, And 
 Was Firmly Minded not To Increase. 
   
   
   
 But Here Also The     Arrival Of     Elizabeth Had Stirred the     Waters. For 
 The Rector Was Actually On His Way To Try And Get A New Subscription 
 Out Of     The     Squire; And It Was Elizabeth'S Doing. 
   
   
   
 'You Remember That Child Of     Old Leonard The     Blacksmith?' Said The 
 Rector Eagerly; 'A Shocking case Of     Bow-Legs, One Of     The     Worst I 
 Ever Saw. But Miss Bremerton'S Taken Endless Trouble. And Now We'Ve 
 Got An Admission For Him To The     Orthopaedic Hospital. But There'S A 
 Few Pounds To Be Raised for His Maintenance--It Will Be A Question 
 Of Months. I Was Just Coming over To See If You Would Give Me A 
 Little,' He Wound Up, In a Tone Of     Apology. 
   
   
   
 The Squire, With A Brow All Clouds, Observed that When Children 
 Were Bow-Legged it Was Entirely The     Fault Of     Their Mothers. 
   
   
   
 'Ah, Yes,' Said The     Rector, With A Sigh. 'Mrs. Leonard Is A 
 Slatternly Woman--No Doubt Of     That. But When You'Ve Said That You 
 Haven'T Cured the     Child.' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Ungraciously Said He Would Consider It; And The     Rector, 
 Knowing well That He Would Get No More At A First Assault, Let The 
 Child Alone, And Concentrated on The     Topic Of     Elizabeth. 
   
   
   
 'An Extraordinarily Capable Creature,' He Said Warmly, 'And A Good 
 Heart Besides. You Were Indeed lucky To Find Her, And You Are Very 
 Wise To Give Her Her Head. The     Village Folk Can'T Say Enough About 
   
 Her.' 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 135 
   
 The Squire Felt His Mouth Twitching. With Some Horses, Is There Any 
 Choice--But Hobson'S--As To 'Giving' Them Their Head? 
   
   
   
 'Yes, She'S Clever,' He Said Grudgingly. 
   
   
   
 'And It Was Only To-Day,' Pursued the     Rector, 'That I Heard Her 
 Story From A Lady, A Friend Of     My Wife'S, Who'S Been Spending sunday 
 With Us. She Seems To Have Met Miss Bremerton And Her Family At 
 Richmond A Year Or So Ago, Where Everybody Who Knew Them Had A Great 
 Respect For Them. The     Mother Was A Nice, Gentle Body, But This Elder 
 Daughter Had Most Of     The     Wits--Though There'S A Boy In a Worcester 
 Regiment They'Re All Very Fond And Proud Of--And She Always Looked 
 After The     Others, Since The     Father--Who Was A Civil Servant--Died, 
 Six Years Ago. Then Two Years Since, She Engaged herself To A Young 
 Yeomanry Officer--' 
   
   
   
 'Eh--What?--What Do You Say?--A Yeomanry Officer?' Said The     Squire, 
 Looking round. 
   
   
   
 'Precisely--A Yeomanry Officer. They Were Engaged and Apparently 
 Very Happy. He Was A Handsome, Upstanding fellow, Very Popular With 
 Women. Then He Went Out To Egypt With His Regiment, And It Was 
 Intended they Should Marry When He Got His First Leave. But 
 Presently His Letters Began To Change. Then They Only Came At Long 
 Intervals. And At Last They Stopped. He Had Complained once Of     An 
 Attack Of     Sunstroke, And She Was Wretched, Thinking he Was Ill. At 
 Last A Letter Reached her From A Brother Officer, Who Seems To Have 
 Behaved very Kindly--With The     Explanation. Her Fiance Had Got Into 
 The Clutches--No One Exactly Knew How--Of A Greek Family Living in 
 Alexandria, And Had Compromised himself So Badly With One Of     The 
 Daughters, That The     Father, A Cunning old Greek Merchant, Had 
 Compelled him To Marry Her. Threats Of     Exposure, And All The     Rest! 
 The Brother Officer Hinted at A Plot--That The     Poor Fellow Had Been 
 Trapped, And Was More Sinned against Than Sinning. However, There It 
 Was. He Was Married to The     Greek Girl; Miss Bremerton'S Letters 
 Were Returned; And The     Thing was At An End. Our Friend Says She 
 Behaved splendidly. She Went On With Her Work In the     War Trade 
 Department--Shirked nothing and No One--Till Suddenly, About Six 
 Months Ago, She Had A Bad Breakdown--' 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 136 
   
   
 'What Do You Mean?' Said The     Squire Abruptly. 'She Was Ill?' 
   
   
   
 'A Combination Of     Overwork And Influenza, I Should Think; But No 
 Doubt The     Tragedy Had A Good Deal To Do With It. She Went Down To 
 Stay For A Couple Of     Months With An Uncle In dorsetshire, And Got 
 Better. Then The     Family Lost Some Money, Through A Solicitor'S 
 Mismanagement--Enough Anyway To Make A Great Deal Of     Difference. The 
 Mother Too Broke Down In health. Miss Bremerton Came Home At Once, 
 And Took Everything on Her Own Shoulders. You Remember, She Heard Of 
 Your Secretaryship From That Balliol Man You Wrote To--Who Had Been 
 A Tutor Of     Hers When She Was At Somerville? She Determined to Apply 
 For It. It Was More Money Than She Was Getting in london, And She 
 Had To Provide For Her Mother And To Educate Her Young Sister. 
 Plucky Woman! All This Interested me Very Much, I Confess. I Have 
 Formed such A High Opinion Of     Her! And I Thought It Would Interest 
 You.' 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T Know What We Any Of     Us Have To Do With It,' Grumbled the 
 Squire. 
   
   
   
 The Rector Drew Himself Up A Little, Resenting the     Implied rebuke. 
   
   
   
 'I Hope I Don'T Seem To You To Be Carrying gossip For Gossip'S 
 Sake,' He Said, Rather Indignantly. 'Nothing was Further From My 
 Intention. I Like And Admire Miss Bremerton A Great Deal Too Much.' 
   
   
   
 'Well, I Don'T Know What We Can Do,' Said The     Squire Testily. 'We 
 Can'T Unmarry The     Man.' 
   
   
   
 The Rector Pulled up Short, And Offered a Chilly Good-Bye. As He 
 Hurried on Towards The     Village--Little Knowing the     Obstacles He 
 Would Encounter In his Path--He Said To Himself That The     Squire'S 
 Manners Were Really Past Endurance. One Could Hardly Imagine That 
 Miss Bremerton Would Be Long Able To Put Up With Them. 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 137 
   
 The Squire Meanwhile Pursued the     Rest Of     His Way, Wrapped in rather 
 Disagreeable Reflections. He Was Not At All Grateful To The     Rector 
 For Telling him The     Story--Quite The     Reverse. It Altered his Mental 
 Attitude Towards His Secretary; Introduced disturbing ideas, Which 
 He Had No Use For. He Had Taken For Granted that She Was One Of 
 Those Single Women Of     The     Present Day Whose Intellectual Interests 
 Are Enough For Them, Who Have Never Really Felt The     Call Of     Passion, 
 And Can Be Trusted to Look At Life Sensibly Without Taking love And 
 Marriage Into Account. To Think Of     Miss Bremerton As Having suffered 
 Severely From A Love-Affair--Broken Her Heart, And Injured her 
 Health Over It--Was Most Distracting. If It Had Happened once--Why, 
 Of Course, It Might Happen Again. She Was Not Immune; In spite Of 
 All Her Gifts, She Was Susceptible, And It Was A Horrid Nuisance. 
   
   
   
 He Went Home All On Edge, What With The     Adventure Of     The     Gates, The 
 Encounter With The     Engineer Fellow, And Now The     Revelations Of     The 
 Rector. 
   
   
   
 As He Approached the     House, He Saw From The     Old Clock In the     Gable 
 Of The     Northern Front That It Was Two O'Clock. He Was Half-An-Hour 
 Late For Lunch. Luncheon, In fact, Must Be Over. And Indeed, As He 
 Passed along The     Library Windows, He Saw Elizabeth'S Figure At Her 
 Desk. It Annoyed him That She Should Have Gone Back To Work So Soon 
 After Her Meal. He Had Constantly Made It Plain To Her That She Was 
 Not Expected to Begin Work Of     An Afternoon Till Four O'Clock. She 
 Would Overdo It: And Then She Would Break Down Again As She Had Done 
 Before. In his Selfishness, His Growing dependence On Her 
 Companionship And Her Help, He Began To Dread The     Mere Chance. 
   
   
   
 How Agreeable, And How Fruitful, Their Days Of     Work Had Been Lately! 
 He Had Been, Of     Course, Annoyed sometimes By Her Preoccupation With 
 The War News Of     The     Morning. Actually, This Caporetto Business, The 
 Italian Disaster, Had Played the     Mischief With Her For A Day Or 
 Two--And The     News From Russia. Any Bad News, Indeed, Seemed to Haunt 
 Her; Her Colour Faded away; And If He Dictated notes To Her, They 
 Would Be Occasionally Inaccurate. But That Was Seldom. In general, 
 He Felt That He Had Made Great Strides During the     Preceding weeks; 
 That, Thanks To Her, The     Book He Was Attempting was Actually Coming 
 Into Shape. She Had Suggested so Much--Sometimes By Her Kn 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 138 
   
 The Squire Meanwhile Pursued the     Rest Of     His Way, Wrapped in rather 
 Disagreeable Reflections. He Was Not At All Grateful To The     Rector 
 For Telling him The     Story--Quite The     Reverse. It Altered his Mental 
 Attitude Towards His Secretary; Introduced disturbing ideas, Which 
 He Had No Use For. He Had Taken For Granted that She Was One Of 
 Those Single Women Of     The     Present Day Whose Intellectual Interests 
 Are Enough For Them, Who Have Never Really Felt The     Call Of     Passion, 
 And Can Be Trusted to Look At Life Sensibly Without Taking love And 
 Marriage Into Account. To Think Of     Miss Bremerton As Having suffered 
 Severely From A Love-Affair--Broken Her Heart, And Injured her 
 Health Over It--Was Most Distracting. If It Had Happened once--Why, 
 Of Course, It Might Happen Again. She Was Not Immune; In spite Of 
 All Her Gifts, She Was Susceptible, And It Was A Horrid Nuisance. 
   
   
   
 He Went Home All On Edge, What With The     Adventure Of     The     Gates, The 
 Encounter With The     Engineer Fellow, And Now The     Revelations Of     The 
 Rector. 
   
   
   
 As He Approached the     House, He Saw From The     Old Clock In the     Gable 
 Of The     Northern Front That It Was Two O'Clock. He Was Half-An-Hour 
 Late For Lunch. Luncheon, In fact, Must Be Over. And Indeed, As He 
 Passed along The     Library Windows, He Saw Elizabeth'S Figure At Her 
 Desk. It Annoyed him That She Should Have Gone Back To Work So Soon 
 After Her Meal. He Had Constantly Made It Plain To Her That She Was 
 Not Expected to Begin Work Of     An Afternoon Till Four O'Clock. She 
 Would Overdo It: And Then She Would Break Down Again As She Had Done 
 Before. In his Selfishness, His Growing dependence On Her 
 Companionship And Her Help, He Began To Dread The     Mere Chance. 
   
   
   
 How Agreeable, And How Fruitful, Their Days Of     Work Had Been Lately! 
 He Had Been, Of     Course, Annoyed sometimes By Her Preoccupation With 
 The War News Of     The     Morning. Actually, This Caporetto Business, The 
 Italian Disaster, Had Played the     Mischief With Her For A Day Or 
 Two--And The     News From Russia. Any Bad News, Indeed, Seemed to Haunt 
 Her; Her Colour Faded away; And If He Dictated notes To Her, They 
 Would Be Occasionally Inaccurate. But That Was Seldom. In general, 
 He Felt That He Had Made Great Strides During the     Preceding weeks; 
 That, Thanks To Her, The     Book He Was Attempting was Actually Coming 
 Into Shape. She Had Suggested so Much--Sometimes By Her Kn 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 6 Pg 139 
 Sometimes By Her Ignorance. And Always So Modest--So Teachable--So 
 Docile. 
   
   
   
 _Docile_? The     Word Passing through His Mind Again, As It Had In the 
 Morning, Roused in him Mingled laughter And Uneasiness. For Outside 
 Their Classical Work Together, Nothing indeed could Be Less Docile 
 Than Miss Bremerton. How She Had Withstood Him In the     Matter Of     The 
 Codicil! He Could See Her Still, As She Stood There With Her Hands 
 Behind Her, Defying him. And That Morning also, When She Had Spoken 
 Her Mind On The     Project Of     The     Gates. 
   
   
   
 Well, Now, He Had To Go In and Tell Her That The     Deed was Done, And 
 The Park Was Closed. 
   
   
   
 He Crept Round To A Side Door, Nervous Lest She Should Perceive Him 
 From The     Library, And Made Forest Get Him Some Lunch. Then He Hung 
 About The     Hall Smoking. It Was Ridiculous--Nonsensical--But He 
 Admitted to Himself That He Shrank From Facing her. 
   
   
   
 At Last A Third Cigarette Put The     Requisite Courage Into Him, And He 
 Walked slowly To The     Library. As He Entered the     Room, Elizabeth Rose 
 From Her Chair. 
   
   
   
 She Stood There Waiting for His Orders, Or His Report--Her Quiet 
 Eyes Upon Him. 
   
   
   
 He Told Himself Not To Be A Fool, And Throwing away His Cigarette, 
 He Walked up To Her, And Said In a Tone Of     Bravado: 
   
   
   
 'Well, The     Barricades Are Up!' 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 7 Pg 140 
 The Squire Having shot His Bolt, Looked anxiously For The     Effect Of 
 It. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth, Apparently, Took It Calmly. She Was Standing with One 
 Hand On The     Table Behind Her, And The     Autumn Sun Streaming in 
 Through The     Western Windows Caught The     Little Golden Curls On Her 
 Temples, And The     One Or Two Small Adornments That She Habitually 
 Wore, Especially A Greek Coin--A Gold Stater--Hanging on A Slender 
 Chain Round Her Neck. In the     Squire'S Eyes, The     Stately Figure In 
 Plain Black, With The     Brilliant Head And Hands, Had In some Way 
 Gathered into Itself The     Significance Of     The     Library. All The 
 Background Of     Books, With Its Pale And Yet Rich Harmony Of     Tone, The 
 Glass Cases With Their Bronzes And Terra-Cottas, The     Statues, The 
 Papers On The     Table, The     Few Flowers That Were Never Wanting to 
 Elizabeth'S Corner, The     Taste With Which The     Furniture Had Been 
 Re-Arranged, The     General Elegance And Refinement Of     The     Big Room In 
 Fact, Since Elizabeth Had Reduced it From Chaos To Order, Were Now 
 Related to Her Rather Than To Him. He Could Not Now Think Of     The 
 Room Without Her. She Had Become In this Short Time So Markedly Its 
 Presiding spirit. 'Let There Be Order And Beauty!' She Had Said, 
 Instead Of     Dirt And Confusion; And The     Order And Beauty Were There. 
   
   
   
 But The     Presiding spirit Was Now Surveying him, With Eyes That 
 Seemed to Have Been Watchfully Withdrawn, Under Puckered brows. 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T Understand,' Said Elizabeth. 'You Have Fastened up The 
 Gates?' 
   
   
   
 'I Have,' Said The     Squire Jocularly. 'Mrs. Perley Believes The 
 Committee Will Bring a Tank! That Would Be A Sight Worth Seeing.' 
   
   
   
 'You Really Want To Stop Them From Ploughing up That Land?' 
   
   
   
   
 'I Do. I Have Offered them Other Land.' 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 7 Pg 141 
   
   
 Elizabeth Hesitated. 
   
   
   
 'Don'T You Believe What The     Government Say, Mr. Mannering?' 
   
   
   
 'What Do They Say?' 
   
   
   
 'That Everything depends Upon Whether We Shall Have Food Enough To 
 Hold Out? That We Can'T Win The     War Unless We Can Grow More Food 
 Ourselves?' 
   
   
   
 'That'S The     Government'S Affair.' The     Squire Sat Down At His Own 
 Table And Began To Look Out A Pen. 
   
   
   
 'Well Now, Miss Bremerton, I Don'T Think We Need spend Any More Time 
 Over This Tiresome Business. I'Ve Already Lost The     Morning. Suppose 
 We Get On With The     Work We Were Doing yesterday?' 
   
   
   
 He Turned an Amicable Countenance Towards Her. She On Her Side Moved 
 A Little Towards A Window Near Her Table, And Looked out Of     It, As 
 Though Reflecting. After A Minute Or Two He Asked himself With A 
 Vague Anxiety What Was Wrong With Her. Her Manner Was Certainly 
 Unusual. 
   
   
   
 Suddenly She Turned, And Came Half Across The     Room Towards Him. 
   
   
   
 'May I Speak To You, Please, Mr. Mannering?' 
   
   
   
 'By All Means. Is There Anything amiss?' 
   
   
   
 'I Think We Agreed on A Month'S Notice, On Either Side. I Should Be 
   
 Glad If You Would Kindly Accept My Notice As From To-Day.' 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 7 Pg 142 
   
   
   
 The Squire Rose Violently, And Thrust Back His Chair. 
   
   
   
 'So That'S What You Have Been Cogitating in my Absence?' 
   
   
   
 'Not At All,' Said Elizabeth Mildly. 'I Have Made A Complete List Of 
 The Passages You Asked for.' 
   
   
   
 She Pointed to Her Table. 
   
   
   
 'Yet All The     Time You Were Planning this Move--You Were Making up 
 Your Mind What To Do?' 
   
   
   
 She Hesitated. 
   
   
   
 'I Was Often Afraid It Would Have To Be Done,' She Said At Last. 
   
   
   
 'And Pray May I Ask Your Reasons?' The     Squire'S Tone Was Sarcastic. 
 'I Should Like To Know In what I Have Failed to Satisfy You. I 
 Suppose You Thought I Was Rude To You This Morning?' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, That Didn'T Matter,' She Said Hastily. 'The Fact Is, Mr. 
 Mannering,' She Crossed her Hands Quietly In front Of     Her, 'You Put 
 Responsibilities On Me That I Am Not Prepared to Carry. I Feel I 
 Must Give Them Up.' 
   
   
   
 'I Thought You Liked responsibility.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Coloured. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 7 Pg 143 
 'It--It Depends What Sort. I Begin To See Now That My 
 Principles--And Opinions--Are So Different From Yours That, If We Go 
 Further, I Shall Either Be Disappointing you Or--Doing what I Think 
 Wrong.' 
   
   
   
 'You Can'T Conceive Ever Giving up Your Opinion To Mine?' 
   
   
   
 'No!' Elizabeth Shook Her Head With Decision. 'No! That I Really 
 Can'T Conceive!' 
   
   
   
 'Upon My Word!' Said The     Squire, Fairly Taken Aback. They Confronted 
 Each Other. Elizabeth Began To Look Disturbed. Her Eyelids Flickered 
 Once Or Twice. 
   
   
   
 'I Think We Ought To Be Quite Serious,' She Said Hurriedly. 'I 
 Don'T Want You To Misunderstand Me. If You Knew How I Valued this 
 Opportunity Of     Doing this Classical Work With You! It Is 
 _Wonderful_'--Her Voice Wavered a Little, Or The     Squire Fancied 
 It--'What You Have Taught Me Even In this Short Time. I Am Proud To 
 Have Been Your Secretary--And Your Pupil. If It Were Only That'--She 
 Paused--'But You Have Also Been So Kind As To--To Take Me Into Your 
 Confidence--To Let Me Do Things For You, Outside Of     What You Engaged 
 Me For. I See Plainly That--If I Go On With This--I Shall Become 
 Your Secretary--Your Agent In fact--For A Great Many Things Besides 
 Greek.' 
   
   
   
 Then She Made An Impetuous Step Forward. 
   
   
   
 'Mr. Mannering!--The Atmosphere Of     This House Chokes Me!' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Dropped back Into His Chair, Watching her With Eyes In 
 Which He Tried--Not Very Successfully--To Keep Dignity Alive. 
   
   
   
 'Your Reasons?' 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 7 Pg 144 
 'I Am With The     _Country_!' She Said, Not Without Signs Of     Agitation; 
 'And You Seem To Me To Care Nothing about The     Country!' 
   
   
   
 Disputation Was Never Unwelcome To The     Squire. He Riposted. 
   
   
   
 'Of Course, We Mean Entirely Different Things By The     Word.' 
   
   
   
 She Threw Back Her Head Slightly, With A Gesture Of     Scorn. 
   
   
   
 'We Might Argue That, If It Were Peace-Time. But This Is _War_! Your 
 Country--My Country--Has The     German Grip At Her Throat. A Few 
 Months--And We Are Saved--Or Broken!--The Country That Gave Us 
 Birth--All We Have--All We Are!' Her Words Came Short And Thick, 
 And She Had Turned very White. 'And In this House There Is Never, In 
 Your Presence, A Word Of     The     War!--Of The     Men Who Are Dying by Land 
 And Sea--_Dying_, That You And I May Sit Here In peace--That You May 
 Talk To Me About Greek Poetry, And Put Spokes In the     Wheels Of     Those 
 Who Are Trying to Feed us--And Defend Us--And Beat Off Germany. 
 Nothing for The     Wounded!--Nothing for The     Hospitals! And You Won'T 
 Let Pamela Do Anything! Not A Farthing for The     Red cross! You Made 
 Me Write A Letter Last Week Refusing a Subscription. And Then, 
 When They Only Ask You To Let Your Land Grow Food--That The 
 German Pirates And Murderers Mayn'T Starve Us Into A Horrible 
 Submission--_Then_ You Bar Your Gates--You Make Endless Trouble, 
 When The     Country Wants Every Hour Of     Every Man'S Time--You, In your 
 Position, Give The     Lead To Every Shirker And Coward! No! I Can'T 
 Bear It Any More! I Must Go. I Have Had Happy Times Here--I Love The 
 Work--I Am Very Glad To Earn The     Money, For My People Want It. But I 
 Must Go. My Heart--My Conscience Won'T Let Me Stay!' 
   
   
   
 She Turned from Him, With An Unconscious Gesture Which Seemed to The 
 Squire To Be Somewhat Mingled with That Of     The     Great Victory 
 Towering behind Her, And Went Quickly Back To Her Table, Where She 
 Began With Trembling hands To Put Her Papers Together. 
   
   
   
 The Squire Tried to Laugh It Off. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 7 Pg 145 
   
   
 'And All This,' He Said With A Sneer, 'Because I Tied up A Few 
 Gates!' 
   
   
   
 She Made No Reply. He Was Conscious Of     Mingled dismay And Fury. 
   
   
   
 'You Will Stay Your Month?' He Inquired at Last, Coldly. 'You Don'T 
 Propose, I Imagine, To Leave Me At A Moment'S Notice?' 
   
   
   
 She Was Bending over Her Table, And Did Not Look Up. 
   
   
   
 'Oh Yes, I Will Stay My Month.' 
   
   
   
 He Sat Speechless, Watching her. She Very Quickly Finished what She 
 Was Doing, And Taking up Her Note-Book, And Some Half-Written 
 Letters, She Left The     Room. 
   
   
   
 'A Pretty State Of     Things!' Said The     Squire, And Thrusting his Long 
 Hands Into His Pockets He Began To Pace The     Library, In the     Kind Of 
 Temper That May Be Imagined--Given The     Man And The     Circumstances. 
   
   
   
 The Difference, However, Between This Occasion And Others Lay In the 
 Fact That The     Penalties Of     Temper Had Grown So Unjustly Heavy. The 
 Squire Felt Himself Hideously Aggrieved. Abominable!--That He Should 
 Be Hindered in his Just Rights And Opinions By This Indirect 
 Pressure From A Woman, Whom He Couldn'T Wrestle With And Floor, As 
 He Would A Man, Because Of     Her Sex. That Was Always The     Way With 
 Women. No Real Equality--No Give And Take--In Spite Of     All The 
 Suffrage Talk. Their Weakness Was Their Tyranny. Weakness Indeed! 
 They Were Much Stronger Than Men. God Help England When They Got The 
 Vote! The     Greeks Said It--Euripides Said It. But, Of     Course, The 
 Greeks Have Said Everything! Hecuba To Agamemnon, For Instance, When 
 She Is Planning the     Murder Of     The     Thracian King: 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 7 Pg 146 
 'Leave It To Me!--And My Trojan Women!' 
   
   
   
 And Agamemnon'S Scoffing reply--Poor Idiot!--'How Can _Women_ Get 
 The Better Of     Men?' 
   
   
   
 And Hecuba'S Ghastly Low-Voiced 'In A _Crowd_ We Are 
 Terrible!'--[Greek: Deinon To Plêthos]--As She And Her Women Turn 
 Upon The     Thracian, Put Out His Eyes, And Tear His Children Limb From 
 Limb. 
   
   
   
 But _One_ Woman Might Be Quite Enough To Upset A Quiet Man'S Way Of 
 Living! The     Moral Pressure Of     It Was So Iniquitous! Your Convictions 
 Or Your Life! It Was The     Language Of     A Footpad. 
   
   
   
 To Pull Down The     Hurdles, And Tamely Let In chicksands And His 
 Minions--How Odious! To Part With Elizabeth Bremerton And To Be 
 Reduced again To The     Old Chaos And Helplessness--How Still More 
 Odious! As To The     War--So Like A Woman To Suppose That Any War Was 
 Ever Fought With Unanimity By Any Country! Look At The     Crimea!--The 
 Boer War!--The Napoleonic Wars Themselves, If It Came To That! Why 
 Was Fox A Patriot, And He A Traitor? Let Her Answer That! 
   
   
   
 And All The     Time, Elizabeth'S Light Touch Upon His Will Was Like The 
 Curb On A Stubborn Horse. Once As He Passed her Table Angry 
 Curiosity Took Him To Look At Some Finished work That Was Lying 
 There. Perfection! Intelligence, Accuracy, The     Clearest Of     Scripts! 
 All His Hints Taken--And Bettered in the     Taking. Beside It Lay Some 
 Slovenly Manuscripts Of     Levasseur'S. He Could See The     Corners Of 
 Miss Bremerton'S Mouth Go Up As She Looked it Through. Well, Now He 
 Was To Be Left To Levasseur'S Tender Mercies--After All He Had 
 Taught Her! And The     Accounts, And The     Estate, And These Infernal 
 Rations, That No Human Being could Understand! 
   
   
   
 The Squire'S Self-Pity Rose Upon Him Like A Flood. Just At The 
 Worst, He Heard A Knock At The     Library Door. Before He Could Say 
 'Come In,' It Was Hurriedly Opened, And His Two Married daughters 
 Confronted him--Pamela, Too, Behind Them. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 7 Pg 147 
 'Father!' Cried mrs. Gaddesden, 'You Must Please Let Us Come And 
 Speak To You!' 
   
   
   
 What On Earth Was Wrong With Them? Alice--For Whom Her Father Had 
 More Contempt Than Affection--Looked merely Frightened; But 
 Margaret'S Eyes Were Angry, And Pamela'S Reproachful. The     Squire 
 Braced himself To Endurance. 
   
   
   
 'What Do You Want With Me?' 
   
   
   
 '_Father_!--We Never Thought You Meant It Seriously! And Now Forest 
 Says All The     Gates Are Closed, And That The     Village Is Up In arms. 
 The Labourers Declare That If The     County Plough Is Turned back 
 To-Morrow, They'Ll Break Them Down Themselves. And When We'Re All 
 Likely To Be Starving in six Months!' 
   
   
   
 'You Really Can'T Expect Working-Folk To Stand Quietly By And See 
 Such A Thing!' Said Margaret In her Intensest Voice. 'Do, Father, 
 Let Me Send Forest At Once To Tell The     Gardeners To Open All The 
 Gates.' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Defied her To Do Any Such Thing. What Was All The     Silly 
 Fuss About? The     County People Could Open The     Gates In half-An-Hour 
 If They Wanted. It Was A Demonstration--A Protest--A Case To Go To 
 The Courts On. He Had Principles--If No One Else Had. And If They 
 Weren'T Other People'S Principles, What Did It Matter? He Was Ready 
 To Stand By Them, To Go To Prison For Them. He Folded his Arms 
 Magnificently. 
   
   
   
 Pamela Laughed excitedly, And Shook Her Head. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, No, Father, You Won'T Be A Hero--Only A Laughing-Stock! That'S 
 What Desmond Minds So Much. They Won'T Send You To Prison. Some 
 Tiresome Old Judge Will Give You A Talking-To In court, And You 
 Won'T Be Able To Answer Him Back. And Then They'Ll Fine You--And We 
 Shall Be A Little More Boycotted than We Were Before! That'S All 
 That'Ll Happen!' 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 7 Pg 148 
   
   
 '"Boycotted"?--What Do You Mean?' Said The     Squire Haughtily. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, Father, Can'T You _Feel_ It?' Cried pamela. 
   
   
   
 'As If One Man Could Pit Himself Against A Nation!' Said Mrs. 
 Strang, In that Manner Of     Controlled emotion Which The     Squire 
 Detested. He Rarely Felt Emotion, But When He Did, He Let It Go. 
   
   
   
 Peremptorily He Turned them All Out, Giving strict Orders That 
 Nothing he Had Done Should Be Interfered with. Then He Attempted to 
 Go On With Some Work Of     His Own, But He Could Not Bring his Mind To 
 Bear. Finally He Seized his Hat And Went Out Into The     Park To See If 
 The Populace Were Really Rising. It Was A Cold October Evening, With 
 A Waxing moon, And A Wind That Was Rapidly Bringing the     Dead Leaves 
 To Earth. Not A Soul Was To Be Seen! Only Once The     Squire Thought He 
 Heard The     Sound Of     Distant Guns; And Two Aeroplanes Crossed rapidly 
 Overhead Sailing into The     Western Sky. Everywhere The     War!--The 
 Cursed, Cursed obsession Of     It! 
   
   
   
 For The     First Time There Was A Breach In the     Squire'S Defences, 
 Which For Three Years He Had Kept Up Almost Intact. He Had Put 
 Literature, And Art, And The     Joys Of     The     Connoisseur Between Himself 
 And The     Measureless Human Ill Around Him. It Had Spoilt His Personal 
 Life, Had Interfered with His Travels, His Diggings, His Friendships 
 With Foreign Scholars. Well, Then, As Far As He Could He Would Take 
 No Account Of     It, Would Shut It Out, And Rail At The     Men And The 
 Forces That Made It. He Barely Looked at The     Newspapers; He Never 
 Touched a Book Dealing with The     War. It Seemed to Him A Triumph Of 
 Mind And Intelligence When He Succeeded in shutting out The 
 Hurly-Burly Altogether. Only, When In the     Name Of     The     War His 
 Private Freedom And Property Were Interfered with, He Had Flamed out 
 Into Hysterical Revolt. Old Aristocratic Instincts Came To The     Aid 
 Of Passionate Will, And, Perhaps, Of     An Uneasy Conscience. 
   
   
   
 And Now In the     Man'S Vain But Not Ignoble Soul There Stirred a First 
 Passing terror Of     What The     War Might Do With Him, If He Were 
 _Forced_ To Feel It--To Let It In. He Saw It As A Veiled presence At 
 The Door--And Struggled with It Blindly. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 7 Pg 149 
   
 He Was Just Turning back To The     House, When He Saw A Figure 
 Approaching in the     Distance Which He Recognized. It Was That Of     A 
 Man, Once A Farmer Of     His, And A Decent Fellow--Oh, That He 
 Confessed!--With Whom He Had Had A Long Quarrel Over A Miserable Sum 
 Of Money, Claimed by The     Tenant When He Left His Farm, And Disputed 
 By The     Landlord. 
   
   
   
 The Dispute Had Gone On For Two Years. The     Squire'S Law-Costs Had 
 Long Since Swallowed up The     Original Money In dispute. 
   
   
   
 Then Miss Bremerton, To Whom The     Squire Had Dictated some Letters In 
 Connection With The     Squabble, Had Quietly Made A Suggestion--Had 
 Asked leave To Write A Letter On Approval. For Sheer Boredom With 
 The Whole Business, The     Squire Had Approved and Sent The     Letter. 
   
   
   
 Then, This Very Morning, A Reply From The     Farmer. Grateful 
 Astonishment! 'Of Course I Am Ready To Meet You, Sir--I Always Have 
 Been. I Will Get My Solicitor To Put What You Proposed in your 
 Letter Of     This Morning into Shape Immediately, And Will Leave It 
 Signed at Your Door To-Night. I Trust This Trouble Is Now Over. It 
 Has Been A Great Grief To Me.' 
   
   
   
 And Now There Was The     Man Bringing the     Letter. One Worry Done With! 
 How Many More The     Same Patient Hand Might Have Dealt With, If Its 
 Exacting owner Hadn'T Thrown Up Her Work--So Preposterously! 
   
   
   
 The Squire Gave An Angry Sigh, Slipped out Of     The     Visitor'S Way 
 Through A Shrubbery, And Returned to His Library. Fires Had Begun, 
 And The     Glow Of     The     Burning logs Shone Through The     Room. The     Return 
 To This Home Of     His Chief Studies And Pursuits During many 
 Delightful Years Was Always, At Any Hour Of     The     Day Or Year, A 
 Moment Of     Pleasure To The     Squire. Here Was Shelter, Here Was 
 Escape--Both From The     Troubles He Had Brought Upon Himself, And From 
 The World Tumult Outside, The     Work Of     Crazy Politicians And 
 Incompetent Diplomats. But If There Was Any Season When The     Long 
 Crowded room Was More Attractive Than At Any Other, It Was In these 
 Autumn Evenings When Firelight And Twilight Mingled, And The     Natural 
 'Homing' Instinct Of     The     Northerner, Accustomed through Long Ages To 
 Spend Long Winters Mostly Indoors, Stirred in his Blood. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 7 Pg 150 
   
 His Books, Too, Spoke To Him; And The     Beautiful Dim Forms Of     Bronzes 
 And Terra-Cottas, With All Their Suggestions Of     High Poetry And 
 Consummate Art, Breathing from The     Youth Of     The     World. He 
 Understood--Passionately--The Jealous And Exclusive Temper Of     The 
 Artist. It Was His Own Temper--Though He Was No Practising 
 Artist--And Accounted largely For His Actions. What Are Politics--Or 
 Social Reform--Or Religion--Or Morals--Compared to _Art_? The     True 
 Artist, It Has Been Pleaded again And Again, Has No Country. He 
 Follows Beauty Wherever She Pitches Her Tent--'An Hourly Neighbour.' 
 Woe To The     Interests That Conflict With This Interest! He Simply 
 Drives Them Out Of     Doors, And Turns The     Key Upon Them! 
   
   
   
 This, In fact, Was The     Squire'S Defence Of     Himself, Whenever He 
 Troubled to Defend Himself. As To The     Pettinesses Of     A Domineering 
 And Irritable Temper, Cherished through Long Years, And Flying out 
 On The     Smallest Occasions--The Squire Conveniently Forgot Them, In 
 Those Rare Moments Of     Self-Vision Which Were All The     Gods Allowed 
 Him. Of     Course He Was Master In his Own House And Estate--Why Not? 
 Of Course He Fought Those Who Would Interfere With Him, War Or No 
 War--Why Not? 
   
   
   
 He Sat Down To His Table, Very Sorry For Himself, And Hotly 
 Indignant With An Unreasonable Woman. The     Absence Of     Her Figure From 
 The Table On The     Further Side Of     The     Room Worked upon His Nerves. 
 She Had Promised at Least To Stay Her Month. These Were Working 
 Hours. What Was She Doing? She Could Hardly Be Packing already! 
   
   
   
 He Tried to Give His Attention To The     Notes He Had Been Working at 
 The Day Before. Presently He Wanted a Reference--A Line From The 
 _Philoctetes_. 'The Lemnian Fire'--Where On Earth Was The     Passage? 
 He Lifted his Head Instinctively. If Only She Had Been There--It Was 
 _Monstrous_ That She Wasn'T There!--He Would Just Have Thrown The 
 Question Across The     Room, And Got An Answer. Her Verbal Memory Was 
 Astonishing--Much Better Than His. 
   
   
   
 He Must, Of     Course, Get Up And Look Out The     Reference For Himself. 
 And The     Same With Others. In an Hour'S Time He Had Accomplished 
 Scarcely Anything, And A Settled gloom Descended upon Him. That Was 
   
 The Worst Of     Accustoming yourself To Crutches And Helps. When They 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 7 Pg 151 
 Were Unscrupulously And Unjustly Taken Away, A Man Was Worse Off 
 Than If He Had Never Had Them. 
   
   
   
 The Evening post Came In. The     Squire Looked through It With Disgust. 
 He Perceived that Several Letters Were Answers To Some He Had 
 Allowed his Secretary To Draft And Send In his Name--Generally In 
 Reply To Exasperated correspondents Who Had Been Kept Waiting for 
 Months, And Trampled on To Boot. 
   
   
   
 _Now_ He Supposed she Would Refuse To Have Anything to Do With This 
 Kind Of     Thing! She Would Keep To The     Letter Of     Her Bargain, For The 
 Few Weeks That Remained. Greek He Might Expect From Her--But Not 
 Business. 
   
   
   
 He Opened one Or Two. Yes, There Was No Doubt She Was A Clever 
 Woman--Unpardonably And Detestably Clever. Affairs Which Had Been 
 Mountains For Years Had Suddenly Become Mole-Hills. In this New 
 Phase He Felt Himself More Helpless Than Ever To Deal With Them. 
 She, On The     Contrary, Might Have Put Everything straight--She Might 
 Have Done Anything with Him--Almost--That She Pleased. He Would Have 
 Got Rid Of     His Old Fool Of     An Agent And Put In another, That She 
 Approved of, If She Had Wished. 
   
   
   
 But No!--She Must Try And Dictate To Him In public--On A Matter Of 
 Public Action. She Must Have _Everything_ Her Own Way. Opinionated, 
 Self-Conceited creature! 
   
   
   
 When Tea-Time Came He Rang For Forest, And Demanded that A Cup Of 
 Tea Should Be Brought Him To The     Library. But As The     Butler Was 
 Leaving the     Room, He Recalled him. 
   
   
   
 'And Tell Miss Bremerton That I Shall Be Glad Of     Her Company When 
 She Has Finished her Tea.' 
   
   
   
 Forest Hesitated. 
   
   
   
   
 'I Think, Sir, Miss Bremerton Is Out.' 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 7 Pg 152 
   
   
   
 Out!--Was She? Her Own Mistress Already! 
   
   
   
 'Send Miss Pamela Here At Once,' He Commanded. 
   
   
   
 In A Minute Or Two A Girl'S Quick Step Was Heard, And Pamela Ran In. 
   
   
   
 'Yes, Father?' 
   
   
   
 'Where Is Miss Bremerton?' The     Squire Was Standing in front Of     The 
 Fire, Angrily Erect. He Had Delivered his Question In the     Tone Of     An 
 Ultimatum. 
   
   
   
 'Why, Father, You'Ve Forgotten! She Arranged with You That She Was 
 To Go To Tea At The     Rectory, And I'Ve Just Got A Note From Mrs. 
 Pennington To Ask If They May Keep Her For The     Evening. They'Ll Send 
 Her Home.' 
   
   
   
 'I Remember No Such Arrangement,' Said The     Squire, In a Fury. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, Father--Why, I Heard Her Speak To You! And I'M Sure She Wanted 
 A Little Break. She'S Been Looking dead-Tired lately, And She Said 
 She Had A Headache At Lunch.' 
   
   
   
 'Very Well. That'Ll Do,' Said The     Squire, And Pamela Departed, 
 Virtuously Conscious Of     Having stood By Elizabeth, Though She 
 Disliked her. 
   
   
   
 The Squire Felt Himself Generally Cornered. No Doubt She Was Now 
 Telling her Story To The     Penningtons, Who, Of     Course, Would 
 Disapprove The     Gates Affair, In any Case. The     Long Hours Before 
 Dinner Passed away. The     Squire Thought Them Interminable. Dinner Was 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 7 Pg 153 
 A Gloomy And Embarrassed function. His Daughters Were Afraid Of 
 Rousing a Fresh Whirlwind Of     Temper, If The     Gates Were Mentioned; 
 And Nothing else Was Interesting. The     Meal Was Short And Spare, And 
 The Squire Noticed for The     First Time That While Meat Was Offered to 
 Him, The     Others Fed on Fish And Vegetables. All To Put Him In the 
 Wrong, Of     Course! 
   
   
   
 After Dinner He Went Back To The     Library. Work Was Impossible. He 
 Hung Over The     Fire Smoking, Or Turning over The     Pages Of     A Fresh 
 Section Of     The     Catalogue Which Elizabeth Had Placed--Complete--On 
 His Desk That Morning. 
   
   
   
 It Seemed to Him That All The     Powers Of     Mischief Had Risen Against 
 Him. The     Recent Investigation Of     His Affairs Made By Elizabeth At 
 His Express Wish, Slight And Preliminary Though It Was, Had Shown 
 Him What He Had Long And Obstinately Refused to See--That The     Estate 
 Had Seriously Gone Down In value During the     Preceding five Years; 
 That He Had A Dozen Scraps And Disputes On His Hands, More Than 
 Enough To Rasp The     Nerves Of     Any Ordinary Man--And As Far As Nerves 
 Were Concerned, He Knew Very Well That He Was Not An Ordinary Man; 
 That, In short, He Was Impoverished and Embarrassed; His Agent Was A 
 Scandal And Must Be Dismissed, And His New Lawyers, A Grasping, 
 Incompetent Crew. For A Moment, Indeed, He Had Had A Glimpse Of     A 
 Clear Sky. A Woman, Who Seemed to Have The     Same Kind Of     Business 
 Faculty That Many Frenchwomen Possess, Had Laid Hands On His Skein 
 Of Troubles, And Might Have Unravelled them. But She Had Thrown Him 
 Over. In a Little While He Would Have To Let Mannering--For Who 
 Would Buy An Estate In such A Pickle?--Sell His Collections, And Go 
 And Live In a Flat In west Kensington. Then He Hoped his 
 Enemies--Chicksands In particular--Would Be Satisfied. 
   
   
   
 But These, To Do Him Justice, Were Not The     Chief Thoughts, Not The 
 Considerations In his Mind That Smarted most. Another Woman 
 Secretary Or Woman Accountant--For, After All, Clever Women With 
 Business Training are Now As Thick As Blackberries--Might Have 
 Helped him To Put His Affairs Straight; But She Would Not Have Been 
 A Miss Bremerton, With Her Scholarship, Her Taste, Her Love Of     The 
 Beautiful Things That He Loved. He Seemed to See Her Fair Skin 
 Flushing with Pleasure As They Went Through A Greek Chorus Together, 
 Or To Watch Her Tenderly Handling a Bronze, Or Holding a Tanagra 
 Figure To The     Light. 
   
   
   
   
 Of Course Some Stupid Creatures Might Think He Was Falling in love 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 7 Pg 154 
 With Her--Wanting to Marry Her. He Laughed the     Charge To Scorn. No! 
 But He Confessed her Comradeship, Her Friendship, Had Begun To Mean 
 A Good Deal To Him. For Twenty Years He Had Lived in loneliness. 
 Now, It Seemed, He Had Found A Friend, In these Days When The     New 
 Independence Of     Women Opens A Thousand Fresh Possibilities Not Only 
 To Them, But To Men Also. 
   
   
   
 Well, Well, It Was All Over! Better Make Up His Mind To It. 
   
   
   
 He Went To The     Window, As It Was Nearing ten O'Clock, And Looked 
 Out. It Was Foggy Still, The     Moon And Stars Scarcely Visible. He 
 Hoped they Would Have At Least The     Sense At The     Rectory To Provide 
 Her With A Lantern, For Under The     Trees The     Road Was Very Dark. 
   
   
   
 Oh, Far In the     Distance, A Twinkling light! Good! The     Squire Hastily 
 Shut The     Window, And Resumed his Pacing. Presently He Thought He 
 Heard The     House Door Open And Shut, And A Little While After The 
 Library Clock Struck Ten. 
   
   
   
 Now It Would Be Only The     Natural Thing to Go And Say Good-Night To 
 His Daughters, And, Possibly, To Inquire After A Headache. 
   
   
   
 The Squire Accordingly Emerged. In the     Hall He Found His Three 
 Daughters Engaged in lighting their Candles At The     Chippendale 
 Table, Where For About A Hundred and Fifty Years The     Ladies Of 
 Mannering had Been Accustomed to Perform That Rite. 
   
   
   
 The Master Of     The     House Inquired coldly Whether Miss Bremerton Had 
 Returned safely. 'Oh Yes,' Said His Daughter Margaret, 'But She Went 
 Up To Bed at Once. She Hasn'T Got Rid Of     Her Headache.' 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Strang'S Stiff Manner, And The     Silence Of     The     Others Showed the 
 Squire That He Was Deep In his Daughters' Black Books. Was He Also 
 Charged with Miss Bremerton'S Headache? Did Any Of     Them Guess What 
 Had Happened? He Fancied from The     Puzzled look In pamela'S Eyes As 
 She Said Good-Night To Him That She Guessed something 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 7 Pg 155 
   
   
   
 Well, He Wasn'T Going to Tell Them Anything. He Went Back To The 
 Library, And Presently Pamela, In her Room Upstairs, Heard First The 
 Library Bell, Then The     Steps Of     Forest Crossing the     Hall, And 
 Finally A Conversation Between The     Squire And The     Butler Which 
 Seemed to Last Some Time. 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 It Was In the     Very Early Morning--Between Four And Five--That 
 Elizabeth Was Wakened, First By Vague Movements In the     House, And 
 Then By What Seemed to Be Cautious Voices Outside. She Drew A 
 Curtain Back And Looked out--A Misty Morning, Between Darkness And 
 Dawn, And Trees Standing on The     Grass In dim Robes Of     Amethyst And 
 Gold. Two Men In the     Middle Distance Were Going away From The     House. 
 She Craned her Neck. Yes--No Doubt Of     It! The     Squire And Forest. 
 What Could They Be About At That Hour Of     The     Morning? They Were 
 Going, No Doubt, To Inspect The     Barricades! Yet Forest Himself Had 
 Told Her That Nothing would Induce _Him_ To Take A Hand In the 
 'Row.' 
   
   
   
 It Was Strange; But She Was Too Weary And Depressed to Give It Much 
 Thought. What Was She Going to Do Now? The     World Seemed emptily Open 
 Before Her Once More, Chill And Lonely As The     Autumn Morning. 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 8 Pg 156 
   
 On The     Following morning the     Breakfast At Mannering was A Very Tame 
 And Silent Affair. Forest Was Not In attendance, And The     Under 
 Housemaid, Who Commonly Replaced him When Absent, Could Not Explain 
 His Non-Appearance. He And His Wife Lived in a Cottage Beyond The 
 Stables, And All That Could Be Said Was That He 'Had Not Come In.' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Also Was Absent. But As His Breakfast Habits Were 
 Erratic, Owing to The     Fact That He Slept Badly And Was Often Up And 
 Working at Strange Seasons Of     The     Night, Neither Of     His Daughters 
 Took Any Notice. Elizabeth Did Not Feel Inclined to Say Anything of 
 Her Own Observations In the     Small Hours. If The     Squire And Forest 
 Had Been Working at The     Barricade Together, They Were Perhaps 
 Sleeping off Their Exertions. Or The     Squire Was Already On The     Spot, 
 Waiting for The     Fray? Meanwhile, Out Of     Doors, A Thick Grey Mist 
 Spread Over The     Park. 
   
   
   
 So She Sat Silent Like The     Other Two--(Mrs. Gaddesden Was Of     Course 
 In Bed)--Wondering from Time To Time When And How She Should 
 Announce Her Departure. 
   
   
   
 Pamela Meanwhile Was Thinking of     The     Letter She Would Have To Write 
 To Desmond About The     Day'S Proceedings, And Was Impatient To Be Off 
 As Soon As Possible For The     Scene Of     Action. Once Or Twice It 
 Occurred to Her To Notice That Miss Bremerton Was Looking rather 
 Pale And Depressed. But The     Fact Only Made Pamela Feel Prickly. 'If 
 Father Does Get Into A Row, What Does It Really Matter To Her. 
 She'S Not Responsible!--She'S Not One Of     Us!' 
   
   
   
 Immediately After Breakfast, Pamela Disappeared. She Made Her Way 
 Quietly Through The     Park, Where The     Dank Mist Still Clung To The 
 Trees From Which The     Leaf Was Dropping silently, Continuously. The 
 Grass Was All Cobwebs. Every Now And Then The     Head Of     A Deer Would 
 Emerge From The     Dripping fern Only To Be Swallowed up Again In the 
 Fog. 
   
   
   
 Could A Motor-Plough Work In a Fog? 
   
   
   
 Presently, She Who Knew Every Inch Of     The     Ground And Every Tree Upon 
 It, Became Aware That She Was Close To The     Chetworth Gate. Suddenly 
 The Rattle Of     An Engine And Some Men'S Voices Caught Her Ear. The 
   
 Plough, Sure Enough! The     Sound Of     It Was Becoming common In the 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 8 Pg 157 
 Country-Side. Then As The     Mist Thinned and Drifted she Saw The     Thing 
 Plain--The Puffing engine, One Man Driving and Another Following, 
 While In their Wake Ran The     Black Glistening furrow, Where The     Grass 
 Had Been. 
   
   
   
 And Here Was The     Gate. Pamela Stood Open-Mouthed. Where Were The 
 Elaborate Defences And Barricades Of     Which Rumour Had Been Full The 
 Night Before? The     Big Gate Swung Idly On Its Hinges. And In front Of 
 It Stood Two Men Placidly Smoking, In company With The     Village 
 Policeman. Not A Trace Of     Any Obstruction--No Hurdles, No Barbed 
 Wire, Only A Few Ends Of     Rope Lying in the     Road. 
   
   
   
 Then, Looking round, She Perceived old Perley, With A Bag Of     Ferrets 
 In His Hand, Emerging from The     Mist, And She Ran Up To Him 
 Breathlessly. 
   
   
   
 'So They'Ve Come, Perley! Was It They Forced the     Gate?' 
   
   
   
 Perley Scratched his Head With His Free Hand. 
   
   
   
 'Well, It'S An Uncommon Queer Thing, Miss--But I Can'T Tell Yer Who 
 Opened them Gates! I Come Along Here About Seven O'Clock This 
 Mornin', And The     Fog Was So Thick Yo Couldn'T See Nothin' Beyond A 
 Yard Or Two. But When I Got Up To The     Gates, There They Were Open, 
 Just As You See 'Em Now. At First I Thought There Was Summat 
 Wrong--That My Eyes Wasn'T What They Used to Was. But They Was All 
 Right.' 
   
   
   
 'And You Saw The     Gates Shut Last Night?' 
   
   
   
 'Barred up, So As You Couldn'T Move 'Em, Miss!--Not Without A 
 Crowbar Or Two, An' A Couple Of     Men. I Thowt It Was Perhaps Some 
 Village Chaps Larkin' As Had Done It. But It Ain'T None O' Them. It 
 Beats Me!' 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 8 Pg 158 
 Pamela Looked at The     Two Men Smoking by The     Gate--Representatives, 
 Very Likely, Of     The     Inspection Sub-Committee. Should She Go Up And 
 Question Them? But Some Inherited instinct Deterred her. She Was 
 Glad The     Country Should Have The     Land And The     Corn. She Had No 
 Sympathy With Her Father. And Yet All The     Same When She Actually Saw 
 Demos The     Outsider Forcibly In possession Of     Mannering land, The 
 Mannering spirit Kicked a Little. She Would Find Out What Had 
 Happened from Some Of     Their Own People. 
   
   
   
 So After Watching the     County Council Plough For A While As It Clove 
 Its Way Up And Down The     Park Under The     Struggling sun Which Was 
 Gradually Scattering the     Fog--Her Young Intelligence Quite Aware All 
 The Time Of     The     Significance Of     The     Sight--She Turned back Towards 
 The House. And Presently, Advancing to Meet Her, She Perceived the 
 Figure Of     Elizabeth Bremerton--Coming, No Doubt, To Get Picturesque 
 Details On The     Spot For The     Letter She Had Promised to Write To A 
 Certain Artillery Officer. A Quick Flame Of     Jealousy Ran Through 
 The Girl'S Mind. 
   
   
   
 Miss Bremerton Quickened her Step. 
   
   
   
 'So They'Re Open!' She Said Eagerly, As She And Pamela Met. 'And 
 There'S Nothing broken, Or--Or Lying about!' 
   
   
   
 She Looked in bewilderment At The     Unlittered road And Swinging gate. 
   
   
   
 'They Were Open, Perley Says, First Thing this Morning. He Came By 
 About Seven.' 
   
   
   
 'Before The     Plough Arrived?' 
   
   
   
 'Yes.' 
   
   
   
   
 They Stood Still, Trying to Puzzle It Out. Then A Sudden Laugh 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 8 Pg 159 
 Crossed elizabeth'S Face. 
   
   
   
 'Perhaps There Were No Barricades! Perhaps Your Father Was Taking us 
 All In!' 
   
   
   
 'Not At All,' Said Pamela Drily. 'Perley Saw The     Gates Firmly Barred 
 With Hurdles And Barbed wire, And All Tied up With Rope, When He And 
 His Wife Left The     Lodge Late Last Night.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Suddenly Coloured brightly. Why, Pamela Could Not Imagine. 
 Her Fair Skin Made It Impossible For A Flush To Pass Unnoticed. But 
 Why Should She Flush? 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Walked on Rapidly, Her Eyes On The     Ground. When She Raised 
 Them It Was To Look Rather Steadily At Her Companion. 
   
   
   
 'I Think Perhaps I Had Better Tell You At Once--I Am Very 
 Sorry!--But I Shall Be Leaving you In a Month. I Told Your Father So 
 Last Night.' 
   
   
   
 Pamela Looked the     Astonishment She Felt. For The     Moment She Was 
 Tongue-Tied. Was She Glad Or Sorry? She Did Not Know. But The 
 Instinct Of     Good Manners Came To Her Aid. 
   
   
   
 'Can'T You Stand Us?' She Said Bluntly. 'I Expect You Can'T.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Laughed uncomfortably. 
   
   
   
 'Why, You'Ve All Been So Kind To Me. But I Think Perhaps'--She 
 Paused, Trying to Find Her Words--'I Didn'T Quite Understand--When I 
 Came--How Much I Still Wanted to Be Doing things For The     War--' 
   
   
   
 'Why, You Might Do Heaps Of     Things!' Cried pamela. 'You Have Been 
   
 Doing them. Taking an Interest In the     Farms, I Mean--And All That.' 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 8 Pg 160 
   
   
 'Well, But--' Elizabeth'S Brow Puckered. 
   
   
   
 Then She Broke Into A Frank Laugh--'After All, That Wasn'T What I 
 Was Engaged for, Was It?' 
   
   
   
 'No--But You Seemed to Like To Do It. And It'S War-Work,' Said 
 Pamela, Inexorably. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Was Dismally Conscious Of     Her Own Apparent 
 Inconsistencies. It Seemed best To Be Frank. 
   
   
   
 'The Fact Is--I Think I'D Better Tell You--I Tried yesterday To Get 
 Your Father To Give Up His Plans About The     Gates. And When He 
 Wouldn'T, And It Seemed likely That There Might Be Legal Proceedings 
 And--And A Great Fuss--In Which Naturally He Would Want His 
 Secretary To Help Him--' 
   
   
   
 'You Just Felt You Couldn'T? Well, Of     Course I Understand That,' 
 Said Pamela Fervently. 'But Then, You See,' She Laughed, 'There 
 Isn'T Going to Be A Fuss. The     Plough Just Walked in, And The     Fifty 
 Acres Will Be Done In no Time.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Looked as She Felt--Worried. 
   
   
   
 'It'S Very Puzzling. I Wonder What Happened? But I Am Afraid There 
 Will Be Other Things Where Your Father And I Shall Disagree--If, 
 That Is, He Wants Me To Do So Much Else For Him Than The     Greek 
 Work--' 
   
   
   
 'But You Might Say That You Wouldn'T Do Anything else But The     Greek 
 Work?' 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 8 Pg 161 
 'Yes, I Might,' Said Elizabeth Smiling, 'But Once I'Ve Begun--' 
   
   
   
 'You Couldn'T Keep To It?--Father Couldn'T Keep To It?' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Shook Her Head Decidedly. A Little Smile Played about Her 
 Lips, As Much As To Say, 'I Am A Managing woman And You Must Take Me 
 At That. "Il Ne Faut Pas Sortir De Son Caractère."' Pamela, Looking 
 At Her, Admired her For The     First Time. And Now That There Was To Be 
 No More Question--Apparently--Of Correspondence With Arthur 
 Chicksands, Her Mood Changed impulsively. 
   
   
   
 'Well, I'M Very Sorry!' She Said--And Then, Sincerely, 'I Don'T Know 
 How The     Place Will Get On.' 
   
   
   
 'Thank You,' Said Elizabeth. Her Look Twinkled a Little. 'But You 
 Don'T Know What I Might Be After If I Stayed!' 
   
   
   
 Pamela Laughed out, And The     Two Walked home, Better Friends Than 
 They Had Been Yet, Elizabeth Asking that The     News Of     Her Resignation 
 Of Her Post Might Be Regarded as Confidential For A Few Days. 
   
   
   
 When They Reached the     House, Pamela Went Into The     Morning-Room To 
 Tell Her Sisters Of     The     Tame Ending to All Their Alarms, While 
 Elizabeth Hurried to The     Library. She Was Due There At Half-Past 
 Ten, And She Was Only Just In time. Would The     Squire Be There? She 
 Remembered that She Had To Apologize For Her Absence Of     The     Day 
 Before. 
   
   
   
 She Felt Her Pulse Thumping a Little As She Opened the     Library 
 Door. There Was Undoubtedly Something about The     Squire--Some 
 Queer Magnetism--Born Perhaps Of     His Very Restlessness And 
 Unexpectedness--That Made Life In his Neighbourhood Seldom Less 
 Than Interesting. His Temper This Morning would Probably Be Of     The 
 Worst. Something, Or Some One, Had Defeated all His Schemes For A 
 Magnificent Assertion Of     The     Rights Of     Man. His Park Was In the 
 Hands Of     The     Invaders. The     Public Plough Was Impudently At Work. 
   
 And At The     Same Moment His Secretary Had Given Warning, And The 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 9 Pg 162 
 New Catalogue--The Darling of     His Heart--Would Be Thrown On His 
 Hands. It Would Not Be Surprising to Find Him Rampant. Elizabeth 
 Entered almost On Tip-Toe, Prepared to Be All That Was Meek And 
 Conciliating, So Far As Was Compatible With Her Month'S Notice. 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 A Tall Figure Rose From The     Squire'S Table And Made Her A Formal 
 Bow. 
   
   
   
 'Good-Morning, Miss Bremerton. I Expected your Assistance Yesterday 
 Afternoon, But You Had, I Understand, Made An Engagement?' 
   
   
   
 'I Asked you--A Few Days Ago,' Said Elizabeth, Mildly Confronting 
 Him. 'I Am Sorry If It Inconvenienced you.' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, All Right--All Right,' Said The     Squire Hastily. 'I Had 
 Forgotten All About It. Well, Anyway, We Have Lost A Great Deal Of 
 Time.' His Voice Conveyed reproach. His Greenish Eyes Were Fierily 
 Bent Upon Her. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Sat Down At Her Table Without Reply, And Chose A Pen. The 
 Morning'S Work Generally Consisted of     Descriptions Of     Vases And 
 Bronzes In the     Mannering collection, Dictated by The     Squire, And 
 Illustrated often By A Number Of     References To Classical Writers, 
 Given Both In greek And English. The     Labour Of     Looking out And 
 Verifying the     References Was Considerable, And The     Squire'S Testy 
 Temper Was Never More Testy Than When It Was Quarrelling with The 
 Difficulties Of     Translation. 
   
   
   
 'Kindly Take Down,' He Said Peremptorily. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Began: 
   
   
   
 '"No. 190. Greek Vase, From A Tomb Excavated at Mitylene In 1902. 
   
 Fine Work Of     The     Fifth Century B.C. Subject: Penelope'S Web. 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 8 Pg 163 
 Penelope Is Seated at The     Loom. Beside Her Are The     Figures Of     A 
 Young Man And Two Females--Probably Telemachus And Two Hand-Maidens. 
 The Three Male Figures In the     Background May Represent The     Suitors. 
 Size, 23 Inches High; Diameter, 11 Inches. Perfect, Except For A 
 Restoration In one Of     The     Handles." 
   
   
   
 'Have You Got That?' 
   
   
   
 'Yes.' 
   
   
   
 'Go On Please. "This Vase Is Of     Course An Illustration Of     The 
 Well-Known Passage In the     _Odyssey_, Book 21. 103. I Take Mr. Samuel 
 Butler'S Translation, Which Is Lively And Modern And Much To Be 
 Preferred to The     Heavy Archaisms Of     The     Other Fellows."' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Gave A Slight Cough. The     Squire Looked at Her Sharply. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, You Think That'S Not Dignified? Well, Have It As You Like.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Altered the     Phrase To 'Other Translators.' The     Squire 
 Resumed. '"Antinous, One Of     The     Suitors, Is Speaking: 'We Could See 
 Her Working on Her Great Web All Day Long, But At Night She Would 
 Unpick The     Stitches Again By Torchlight. She Fooled us In this Way 
 For Three Years, And We Never Found Her Out, But As Time Wore On, 
 And She Was Now In her Fourth Year, One Of     Her Maids, Who Knew What 
 She Was Doing, Told Us, And We Caught Her In the     Act Of     Undoing her 
 Work, So She Had To Finish It, Whether She Would Or No....' I Tell 
 You, We Never Heard Of     Such A Woman; We Know All About Tyro, 
 Alcmena, Mycene, And The     Famous Women Of     Old, But They Were Nothing 
 To Your Mother--Any One Of     Them."--And Yet She Was Only Undoing her 
 Own Work!--She Was Not Forcing a Grown Man To Undo His!' Said The 
 Squire, With A Sudden Rush Of     Voice And Speech. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Looked up Astonished. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 9 Pg 164 
   
   
 'Am I To Put That Down?' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Threw Away The     Book He Was Holding. His Shining white 
 Hair Seemed positively To Bristle On His Head, His Long Legs Twined 
 And Untwined themselves. 
   
   
   
 'Don'T Pretend, Please, That You Don'T Know What Part You'Ve Been 
 Playing in this Affair!' He Said With Sarcasm. 'It Took Forest And 
 Me Three Good Hours This Morning to Take Down As Fine A Barricade As 
 Ever I Saw Put Up. I'M Stiff With It Still. British Liberties Have 
 Been Thrown To The     Dogs--[Greek: Gynaikos Houneka]--All Because Of     A 
 Woman! And There You Sit, As Though Nothing had Happened! Yet I 
 Chanced to See You Just Now, Coming back With Pamela!' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth'S Flush This Time Dyed her All Crimson. She Sat, Pen In 
 Hand, Staring at Her Employer. 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T Understand What You Mean, Mr. Mannering.' At Which Her 
 Conscience Whispered to Her Sharply, 'You Guessed it Already--In The 
 Park!' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Jumped to His Feet, And Came To Stand Excitedly In front 
 Of Her, His Hands Thrust Into The     High Pockets Of     His Waistcoat. 
   
   
   
 'I Am _Extremely_ Sorry!' He Said, With That _Grand Seigneur_ 
 Politeness He Could Put On When He Chose--'But I Am Not Able To 
 Credit That Statement. You Make It Honestly, Of     Course, But That A 
 Person Of     Your Intelligence, When You Saw Those Gates, Failed to Put 
 Two And Two Together, Well!'--The Squire Shook His Head, And 
 Shrugged his Shoulders, Became, In fact, One Protesting gesture--'If 
 You Ask Me To Believe It,' He Continued, Witheringly, 'I Suppose I 
 Must, But--' 
   
   
   
 'Mr. Mannering!' Said Elizabeth Earnestly, 'It Would Really Be Kind 
 Of You To Explain.' 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 9 Pg 165 
   
 Her Blush Had Died away. She Had Fallen Back In her Chair, And Was 
 Meeting his Attack With The     Steady, Candid Look That Betrayed her 
 Character. She Was Now Entirely Self-Possessed--Neither Nervous Nor 
 Angry. 
   
   
   
 The Squire Changed his Tone. Folding his Arms, He Leant Against A 
 Pedestal Which Supported a Bust Of     A Roman Emperor. 
   
   
   
 'Very Well, Then--I _Will_ Explain. I Told You Yesterday Of     A Step I 
 Proposed to Take By Way Of     Testing how Far The     Invasion Of     Personal 
 Freedom Had Gone In this Country. I Was Perfectly Justified in 
 Taking it. I Was Prepared to Suffer For My Action. I Had Thought It 
 All Out. Then _You_ Came In--And By _Force Majeure_ Compelled me To 
 Give It All Up!' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Could Not Help Laughing. 
   
   
   
 'I Never Heard Any Account Of     An Incident Which Fitted less With The 
 Facts!' She Said With Vivacity. 
   
   
   
 'It Exactly Fits Them!' The     Squire Insisted. 'When I Told You What I 
 Meant To Do, Instead Of     Sympathy--Instead Of     Simple Acquiescence, 
 For How The     Deuce Were You Responsible!--You Threatened to Throw Up 
 The Work I Cannot Now Possibly Accomplish Without You--' 
   
   
   
 'Mr. Levasseur?' Suggested elizabeth. 
   
   
   
 'Levasseur Be Hanged!' Said The     Squire, Taking an Angry Pace Up And 
 Down. 'Don'T Please Interrupt Me. I Have Given You A Perfectly Free 
 Hand, And You Have Organized the     Work--Your Share Of     It--As You 
 Please. Nobody Else Is The     Least Likely To Do It In the     Same Way. 
 When You Go, It Drops. And When Your Share Drops, Mine Drops. 
 That'S What Comes Of     Employing a Woman Of     Ability, And Trusting to 
 Her--As I Have Trusted to You!' 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 9 Pg 166 
 Was There Ever Any Attack So Grotesque, So Unfair? Elizabeth Was For 
 One Moment Inclined to Be Angry--And The     Next, She Was Conscious Of 
 Yieldings And Compunctions That Were Extremely Embarrassing. 
   
   
   
 'You Rate My Help A Great Deal Too High,' She Said After A Moment. 
 'It Is You Yourself Who Have Taught Me How To Work In your Way. I 
 Don'T Think You Will Have Any Real Difficulty With Another 
 Secretary. You Are'--She Ventured a Smile--'You Are A Born Teacher.' 
   
   
   
 Never Was Any Compliment Less Successful. The     Squire Looked sombrely 
 Down Upon Her. 
   
   
   
 'So You _Still_ Intend To Leave Us,' He Said Slowly, 'After What I 
 Have Done?' 
   
   
   
 'What Have You Done?' Said Elizabeth Faintly. 
   
   
   
 'Made Myself A Laughing-Stock To The     Whole Country-Side!--And Thrown 
 All My Principles Overboard--To Content You--And Save My Book!' The 
 Reply Was Given With An Angry Energy That Shook Her. 'I Have Humbled 
 Myself To The     Dust To Meet Your Sentimental Ideas--And There You 
 Sit--As Stony And Inaccessible As This Fellow Here!'--He Brought His 
 Hand Down With Vehemence On The     Roman Emperor'S Shoulder. 'Not A 
 Word Of     Gratitude--Or Concession--Or Sympathy! I Was Indeed a Fool 
 To Take Any Trouble To Please You!' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Was Silent. They Surveyed each Other. 'No Agitation!' Said 
 Elizabeth'S Inner Mind; 'Keep Cool!' 
   
   
   
 At Last She Withdrew Her Own Eyes From The     Angry Tension Of 
 His--Dropped them To The     Table Where Her Right Hand Was 
 Mechanically Drawing nonsense Figures On Her Blotting-Paper. 
   
   
   
 'Did You Really Yourself Take Down That Barricade?' She Said Gently. 
   
   
   
   
 'I Did! And It Was An Infernal Piece Of     Work!' 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 9 Pg 167 
   
   
   
 'I'M Awfully Glad!' Her Voice Was Very Soft. 
   
   
   
 'I Daresay You Are. It Suits Your Principles, And Your Ideas, Of 
 Course--Not Mine! And Now, Having driven Me To It--Having publicly 
 Discredited and Disgraced me--You Can Still Sit There And Talk Of 
 Throwing up Your Work.' 
   
   
   
 The Growing passion In the     Irascible Gentleman Towering above Her 
 Warned her That It Was Time To Bring the     Scene To An End. 
   
   
   
 'I Am Glad,' She Repeated steadily, 'Very Glad--Especially--For Mr. 
 Desmond.' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, Desmond!' The     Squire Threw Out Impatiently, Beginning again To 
 Walk Up And Down. 
   
   
   
 'He Would Have Minded so Dreadfully,' She Said, Still In a Lower 
 Key. 'It Was Really Him I Was Thinking of. Of     Course I Had No Right 
 To Interfere With Your Affairs--' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Turned, The     Tyrant In him Reviving fast. 
   
   
   
 'Well, You Did Interfere--And To Some Purpose! Now Then--Yes Or 
 No--Is Your Notice Withdrawn?' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Hesitated. 
   
   
   
 'I Would Willingly Stay With You,' She Said, 'If--' 
   
   
   
 'If What?' 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 9 Pg 168 
 She Looked up With A Sudden Flash Of     Laughter. 
   
   
   
 'If We Can Really Get On!' 
   
   
   
 'Name Your Terms!' He Returned, Frowning and Excited, To The 
 Neighbourhood Of     The     Roman Emperor. 
   
   
   
 'Oh No--I Have No Terms,' She Said Hurriedly. 'Only--If You 
 Ask Me To Help You With The     Land, I Should Want To Obey The 
 Government--And--And Do The     Best For The     War.' 
   
   
   
 'Condition No. 1,' Said The     Squire Grimly, Checking it Off. 'Go On!' 
   
   
   
 'And--I Should--Perhaps--Beg You To Let Pamela Do Some V.A.D. Work, 
 If She Wants To.' 
   
   
   
 'Pamela Is Your Affair!' Said The     Squire Impatiently. 'If You Stay 
 Here, You Are Her Chaperon, And, For The     Present, Head Of     The 
 Household.' 
   
   
   
 'Only Just For The     Present--Till Pamela Can Do It!' Put In elizabeth 
 Hastily. 'But She'S Nineteen--She Ought To Take A Part.' 
   
   
   
 'Well, Don'T Bother Me About That. You Are Responsible. I Wash My 
 Hands Of     Her. Anything else?' 
   
   
   
 It Did Not Do To Think Of     Pamela'S Feelings, Should She Ever Become 
 Aware Of     How She Was Being handed over. But The     Mention Of     Her, On A 
 Sudden Impulse, Had Been Pure Sympathy On Elizabeth'S Part; A Wish 
 To Strike On The     Girl'S Behalf While The     Iron Was So Very Hot. She 
 Looked up Quietly. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 9 Pg 169 
   
   
 'No, Indeed there Is Nothing else--Except Indeed--That You Won'T 
 Expect Me To Hide What I Feel About The     War--And The     Little We At 
 Home Can Do To Help--' 
   
   
   
 Her Voice Failed a Little. The     Squire Said Nothing. She Went On, 
 With A Clearing countenance. 
   
   
   
 'So--If You Really Wish It--I Will Stay, Mr. Mannering--And Try To 
 Help You All I Can. It Was Splendid Of     You--To Give Up Your Plans. 
 I'M Sure You Won'T Regret It.' 
   
   
   
 'I'M Not Sure At All--But It'S Done. Now, Then, Let Us Understand. 
 You Take Over My Estate Correspondence. You'Ll Want A Clerk--I'Ll 
 Find One. You Can Appoint A New Agent If You Like. You Can Do What 
 You Like, In fact. I Was Never Meant To Be A Landowner, And I Hate 
 The Whole Business. You Can Harry The     Farmers As You Please--I 
 Shan'T Interfere.' 
   
   
   
 'Allow Me To Point Out,' Said Elizabeth Firmly, 'That At College I 
 Was Not Trained in land-Agency--But In greek!' 
   
   
   
 'What Does That Matter? If Women Can Build Dreadnoughts, As They Say 
 They Can, They Can Manage Estates. Now, Then, As To My Conditions. 
 Do What You Like--But My Book And The     Catalogue Come _First_!' He 
 Looked at Her With An Exacting eye. 
   
   
   
 'Certainly,' Said Elizabeth. 
   
   
   
 'But I Know What You'Ll Do--You'Ll Go And Break Down! You Are _Not_ 
 To Break Down.' 
   
   
   
 'Certainly!' Said Elizabeth. 
   
   
   
   
 'But You Have Once Broken Down.' 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 9 Pg 170 
   
   
 Her Start Was Perceptible, But She Answered quietly. 
   
   
   
 'I Was Ill A Year Ago--Partly From Overwork. But I Am Normally Quite 
 Strong.' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Observed her. It Was Very Pleasant To Him To See Her 
 Sitting there, In her Trim Serge Dress, With Its Broad White Collar 
 And Cuffs--The Sheen Of     Her Hair Against The     Dark Wall--Her Shapely 
 Hands Ready For Work Upon His Table. He Felt As If He Had With 
 Enormous Difficulty Captured--Recaptured--Something of     Exceptional 
 Value; Like One Of     Those Women 'Skilled in beautiful Arts' Whom The 
 Greek Slave-Raiders Used to Carry Off From A Conquered city, And 
 Sell For Large Sums To The     Wives Of     Wealthy Greek Chieftains. Till 
 Now He Had Scarcely Thought Of     Her As A Woman, But Rather As A 
 Fine-Edged but Most Serviceable Tool Which He Had Had The 
 Extraordinary Good Luck To Find. Now, With His Mere Selfish Feeling 
 Of Relief There Mingled something rather Warmer And More Human. If 
 Only She Would Stay, He Would Honestly Try And Make Life Agreeable 
 To Her. 
   
   
   
 'Well Now, That'S Settled,' He Said, Drawing a Long 
 Breath--'Oh--Except One Thing--You Will Of     Course Want A Larger 
 Salary?' 
   
   
   
 'Not At All,' Said Elizabeth Decidedly. 'You Pay Me Quite Enough.' 
   
   
   
 'You Are Not Offended with Me For Asking?' His Tone Had Become 
 Astonishingly Deferential. 
   
   
   
 'Not The     Least. I Am A Business Woman. If I Thought Myself Entitled 
 To More I Should Say So. But It Is Extremely Doubtful Whether I Can 
 Really Be Of     Any Use Whatever To You.' 
   
   
   
 'All Right,' Said The     Squire, Returning to His Own Table. 'Now, 
   
 Then, Let Us Go On With No. 190.' 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 9 Pg 171 
   
   
 'Is It Necessary Now To Put In--Well, _Quite_ So Much About 
 Penelope?' Asked elizabeth, As She Took Up Her Pen. 
   
   
   
 'What Do You Think?' 
   
   
   
 'It Seems A Little Long And Dragged in.' Elizabeth Looked critically 
 At The     Paragraph. 
   
   
   
 'And We Have Now Unravelled the     Web?--We Can Do Without Her? 
 Yes--Let Her Go!' Said The     Squire, In a Tone Of     Excessive 
 Complaisance. 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 When The     Morning'S Work Was Done, And Luncheon Over, Elizabeth 
 Carried off Pamela To Her Room. When Pamela Emerged, She Went In 
 Search Of     Forest, Interviewed him In the     Gun-Room, And Then Shutting 
 Herself Up In the     'Den' She Wrote To Desmond. 
   
   
   
      'My Dear Dezzy--There Are Such Queer Things Going on In this 
      Queer House! Yesterday Broomie Gave Warning, And Father 
      Barricaded the     Park Gates, And Was Perfectly Mad, And 
      Determined not To Listen To Anybody. In the     Middle Of     The     Night 
      He And Forest Took The     Barricade Down, And To-Day, Broomie Is 
      To Be Not Only Secretary, But Land-Agent, And Anything else She 
      Pleases--Queen, In fact, Of     All She Surveys--Including me. But 
      I Am Bound To Say She Had Been Very Decent To Me Over It All. 
      She _Wants_ Me To Do Some Of     The     Housekeeping--And She Has 
      Actually Made Father Consent To My Helping at The     Hospital 
      Every Afternoon. Of     Course I Am Awfully Glad About That. I 
      Shall Bicycle Over. 
   
   
   
      'But All The     Same It Is Very Odd, And Perhaps You And I Had 
      Better Consider What It _May_ Mean. I Know From Broomie Herself 
      That She Gave Notice Yesterday--And Now She Is Going to Stay 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 9 Pg 172 
      And I Know From Forest That Father Called him Up When It Was 
      Quite Dark, Between Three And Four In the     Morning--Mrs. Forest 
      Thought The     Germans Had Come When She Heard The     Knocking--And 
      Asked him To Come With Him And Undo The     Gates. Forest Told Me 
      That _He_ Would Have Had Nothing whatever To Do With Closing 
      Them, Nor With Anything 'Agin The     Government! He'S A Staunch 
      Old Soul, Is Forest. So When Father Told Him What He Wanted, He 
      Didn'T Know What To Make Of     It. However, They Both Groped their 
      Way Through The     Fog, Which Was Thick On The     Other Side Of     The 
      Park, And Set To At The     Gates. Forest Says It Was An Awful 
      Business To Get Everything cleared away. Father And Gregson Had 
      Made An Uncommonly Good Job Of     It. If Gregson Had Put In work 
      Like That On His Own Hedges And Gates, Forest Says He Mightn'T 
      Have Been Kicked out! It Took Them Ages Getting the     Barbed 
      Wire Cleared away, Because They Hadn'T Any Proper Nippers. 
      Father Took Off His Coat, And Worked like A Navvy, And Forest 
      Hoisted him Up To Get At The     Wire Along The     Wall. Forest Says 
      He Was Determined to Leave Nothing! "And I Believe, Miss, The 
      Squire Was Very Glad Of     The     Fog--Because There Couldn'T Be Any 
      One Prying around." 
   
   
   
      'For It Seems To Be Really True That The     Village Has Been In a 
      State Of     Ferment, And That They Had Determined to Free The 
      Gates And Let In the     Council Plough. Perley Was Seen Talking to 
      A Lot Of     Men On The     Green Last Night. I Met Him Myself This 
      Morning after Breakfast Near The     Gates, And He Confessed he Had 
      Been There Already--Early. I Expect He Came To Reconnoitre And 
      Take Back The     News. Rather Calm, For One Of     Father'S Own Men! 
      But That'S The     New Spirit, Dezzy. We'Re Not Going to Be Allowed 
      To Have It All Our Own Way Any More. Well, Thank Goodness, I 
      Don'T Mind. At Least, There Is Something in me That Minds. I 
      Suppose It'S One'S Forbears. But The     Greater Part Of     Me Wants A 
      _Lot_ Of     Change--And There Are Often And Often Times When I 
      Wish I'D Been Born In the     Working-Class And Was Just Struggling 
      Upwards With Them, And Sharing all Their Hopes And Dreams For 
      "After The     War." Well, Why Shouldn'T I? I'M Going to Set 
      Broomie On To Some Of     The     Cottages In the     Village--Not That 
      She'Ll Want Setting on--But After All, It'S I Who Know The 
      People. 
   
   
   
      'But That'S By The     Way. The     Point Is Why Did Father Give In? 
   
      Evidently Because Broomie Gave Notice, And He Couldn'T Bear The 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 9 Pg 173 
      Idea Of     Parting with Her. Of     Course Alice--And Margaret Too, To 
      Some Extent--Are Convinced it All Means That Father Wants To 
      Marry Her. Only Alice Thinks That Miss Bremerton Has Been 
      Intriguing for It Since The     First Week She Set Foot In the 
      House; While Margaret Is Certain That She Wouldn'T Marry Father 
      If He Asked her. She Thinks That Miss B. Is Just The     New Woman, 
      Who Wants To _Do_ Things, And Isn'T Always Thinking about 
      Getting married. Well, Dezzy, Old Boy--_I_ Don'T Know What To 
      Think. I'Ll Keep My Eyes Open, And Report To You. I 
      _Don'T--Altogether--Like Her_. No, I Don'T--That'S Flat. I 
      Wish, On The     Whole, She'D Taken Her Departure! And Yet I Feel 
      Rather A Toad For Saying so. She Is Splendid In some 
      Things--Yes, She Is! And The     Rectory People Take The     Most 
      Rose-Coloured view Of     Her--It'S Too Late To Tell You Why, For 
      The     Postman Is Just Coming. 
   
   
   
      'Good-Bye, Dezzy--Dear Dezzy! I Know How Glad You'Ll Be About 
      The     Gates. Write To Me As Often As You Can. By The     Way, Miss 
      Bremerton Has Got A Brother In the     War--With General Maude. 
      That Ought To Make Me Like Her. But Why Did She Leave Us To 
      Find It Out Through The     Rectory? She Never Says Anything about 
      Herself That She Can Help. Do You Think You'Ll Really Get To 
      France In january? Ever Your Loving 
   
   
   
      'Pam.' 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 10 Pg 174 
   
 It Was A Bright January Day. Lunch Was Just Over At Mannering, And 
 The Luncheon-Party Had Dispersed--Attracted to The     Garden And The 
 Park By The     Lure Of     The     Sunshine After Dark Days Of     Storm And Wind. 
 Mrs. Gaddesden Alone Was Left Sitting by The     Fire In the     Hall. There 
 Was A Cold Wind, And She Did Not Feel Equal To Facing it. She Was 
 One Of     Those Women, Rare In these Days, Who, Though Still Young, 
 Prefer To Be Prematurely Old; In whom Their Great-Grandmothers, And 
 The 'Elegant' Lackadaisical Ways Of     A Generation That Knew Nothing 
   
 Of Exercise, Thick Boots And Short Skirts, Seem To Become Once More 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 10 Pg 175 
   
   
 The Squire Also Was Absent. But As His Breakfast Habits Were 
 Erratic, Owing to The     Fact That He Slept Badly And Was Often Up And 
 Working at Strange Seasons Of     The     Night, Neither Of     His Daughters 
 Took Any Notice. Elizabeth Did Not Feel Inclined to Say Anything of 
 Her Own Observations In the     Small Hours. If The     Squire And Forest 
 Had Been Working at The     Barricade Together, They Were Perhaps 
 Sleeping off Their Exertions. Or The     Squire Was Already On The     Spot, 
 Waiting for The     Fray? Meanwhile, Out Of     Doors, A Thick Grey Mist 
 Spread Over The     Park. 
   
   
   
 So She Sat Silent Like The     Other Two--(Mrs. Gaddesden Was Of     Course 
 In Bed)--Wondering from Time To Time When And How She Should 
 Announce Her Departure. 
   
   
   
 Pamela Meanwhile Was Thinking of     The     Letter She Would Have To Write 
 To Desmond About The     Day'S Proceedings, And Was Impatient To Be Off 
 As Soon As Possible For The     Scene Of     Action. Once Or Twice It 
 Occurred to Her To Notice That Miss Bremerton Was Looking rather 
 Pale And Depressed. But The     Fact Only Made Pamela Feel Prickly. 'If 
 Father Does Get Into A Row, What Does It Really Matter To Her. 
 She'S Not Responsible!--She'S Not One Of     Us!' 
   
   
   
 Immediately After Breakfast, Pamela Disappeared. She Made Her Way 
 Quietly Through The     Park, Where The     Dank Mist Still Clung To The 
 Trees From Which The     Leaf Was Dropping silently, Continuously. The 
 Grass Was All Cobwebs. Every Now And Then The     Head Of     A Deer Would 
 Emerge From The     Dripping fern Only To Be Swallowed up Again In the 
 Fog. 
   
   
   
 Could A Motor-Plough Work In a Fog? 
   
   
   
 Presently, She Who Knew Every Inch Of     The     Ground And Every Tree Upon 
 It, Became Aware That She Was Close To The     Chetworth Gate. Suddenly 
 The Rattle Of     An Engine And Some Men'S Voices Caught Her Ear. The 
   
 Plough, Sure Enough! The     Sound Of     It Was Becoming common In the 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 10 Pg 176 
 Incarnate. Though Mannering was Not Ill-Warmed, Alice Moved about It 
 In Winter Wrapped in a Picturesque Coat Of     Black Velvet Trimmed with 
 Chinchilla, Her Head Wreathed in white Lace. From This Rather 
 Pompous Setting her Fair Hair, Small Person, And Pinched pale Face 
 Looked out Perhaps With Greater Dignity Than They Could Have 
 Achieved unadorned. Her Chilliness, Her Small Self-Indulgences, 
 Including an Inordinate Love Of     Cakes And All Sweet Things, Were The 
 Standing joke Of     The     Twins When They Discussed the     Family Freely 
 Behind The     Closed doors Of     The     'Den.' But No One Disliked alice 
 Gaddesden, Though It Was Hard To Be Actively Fond Of     Her. She And 
 Her Husband Were Quite Good Friends; But They Were No Longer Of     Any 
 Real Importance To Each Other. He Was A Good Deal Older Than She; 
 And Was Often Away From London On 'War Work' In the     Midlands. On 
 These Occasions Alice Generally Invited herself To Mannering. She 
 Thus Got Rid Of     Housekeeping, Which In these Days Of     Rations Worried 
 Her To Death. Moreover, Food At Mannering was Much More Plentiful 
 Than Food In town--Especially Since The     Advent Of     Elizabeth 
 Bremerton. 
   
   
   
 It Was Of     Elizabeth That Mrs. Gaddesden Was Thinking as She Sat 
 Alone In the     Hall. From Her Seat She Could Perceive A Shrubbery Walk 
 In The     Garden Outside, Along Which Two Figures Were Pacing--Miss 
 Bremerton And The     New Agent. Beyond, At Some Distance, She Was Aware 
 Of Another Group Disappearing among The     Trees Of     The     Park--Pamela 
 With Captain Chicksands And Beryl. 
   
   
   
 This Was The     First Time That Any Member Of     The     Chicksands Family Had 
 Been A Guest At Mannering since The     Quarrel In the     Autumn. The 
 Squire Had Not Yet Brought Himself To Shake Hands With Sir Henry. 
 But Beryl On The     One Side, And Pamela On The     Other--Aided and 
 Abetted always By Elizabeth Bremerton--Had Been Gradually Breaking 
 Down The     Embargo; And When, Hearing from Beryl That Her Brother 
 Arthur Was With Them For A Few Days, Pamela Had Openly Proposed in 
 Her Father'S Presence To Ask Them Both To Luncheon, The     Squire Had 
 Pretended not To Hear, But Had At Any Rate Raised no Objection. And 
 When The     Brother And Sister Arrived, He Had Received them As Though 
 Nothing had Happened. His Manners Were Always Brusque And 
 Ungracious, Except In the     Case Of     Persons Who Specially Mattered to 
 His Own Pursuits, Such As Archæologists And Greek Professors. But 
 The Chetworth Family Were Almost As Well Acquainted with His Ways As 
 His Own, And His Visitors Took Them Philosophically. Arthur 
 Chicksands Had Kept The     Table Alive At Luncheon With Soldier 
 Stories, And The     Squire'S Sulky Or Sarcastic Silence Had Passed 
   
 Unnoticed. 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 10 Pg 177 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Gaddesden'S Mind Was Very Full Of     The     Captain'S Good Looks And 
 Distinction. He Was Now In london, At The     War Office, It Seemed, For 
 A Short Time, On A Special Mission; Hence His Occasional Weekends 
 With His Family. When The     Mission Was Over--So Beryl Told Pamela--He 
 Was Probably Going out To An Important Appointment In the 
 Intelligence Department At G.H.Q. 'Arthur'S A Great Swell,' Said 
 Beryl, 'Though As To What He'S Done, Or What People Think Of     Him, 
 You Have To Dig It Out Of     Him--If You Can!' 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Gaddesden Did Not Very Much Like Him. His Brusque Sincerity 
 Made People Of     Her Sort Uncomfortable. But She Would Have Liked very 
 Much To Know Whether There Was Anything up Between Him And Pamela. 
 Really, Miss Bremerton'S Discretion About Such Things Was Too 
 Tiresome--Ridiculous--Almost Rude! It Was No Good Trying, Even, To 
 Discuss Them With Her. 
   
   
   
 As To The     Disinheriting of     Aubrey, No More Had Been Heard Of     It. 
 Miss Bremerton Had Told Aubrey When He Was At Home For Twenty-Four 
 Hours At Christmas That, As Far As She Knew, The     Codicil Was Still 
 Unsigned. But Aubrey Didn'T Seem To Care The     Least Whether It Was Or 
 No. If Beryl Wished him To Raise The     Question Again With His Father, 
 Of Course He Would; Otherwise He Greatly Preferred to Leave It 
 Alone. And As Beryl Had No Will Or Wishes But His, And Was, In 
 Alice'S Opinion, Only Too Absurdly And Dependently In love, The 
 Sleeping dogs Were Very Much Asleep; And The     Secret Of     Mannering'S 
 Future Disposal Lay Hid Impenetrably In the     Squire'S Own Breast. 
   
   
   
 At The     Same Time, Mrs. Gaddesden Was Firmly Persuaded that Whatever 
 Elizabeth Bremerton Wished or Advised would Ultimately Be Done. 
   
   
   
 What An Extraordinary Position That Young Woman Now Held Among Them! 
 Nearly Three Months Had Now Elapsed since Mrs. Gaddesden'S Autumn 
 Visit--Since Desmond Had Gone Into Training at His Artillery 
 Camp--Since A Third Of     The     Park Had Been Ploughed up, And Since 
 Elizabeth Bremerton Had Thrown Up Her Post Only To Come Back Next 
 Day As Dictator. 
   
   
   
   
 Yes--_Dictator_! Mrs. Gaddesden Was Never Tired of     Thinking about 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 10 Pg 178 
 It, And Was Excitedly Conscious That All The     Neighbourhood, And All 
 Their Friends And Kinsfolk Were Thinking and Speculating with Her. 
 At The     Beginning of     November, Before She And Margaret Strang Went 
 Back To Town, The     Squire Had Announced to All Of     Them That Miss 
 Bremerton Had Become His 'Business Secretary,' As Well As His 
 Classical Assistant. And Now, After Three Months, The     Meaning of 
 This Notice Was Becoming very Clear. The     Old Agent, Mr. Hull, Had 
 Been Dismissed, And Moderately--Very Moderately--Pensioned. It Was 
 Said That Miss Bremerton, On Looking into His Accounts, Saw No 
 Reason At All For Any Special Indulgence. For, In addition To 
 Everything else, She Turned out To Be A Trained accountant!--And 
 Money Matters Connected with The     Estate Were Being probed to The 
 Bottom That Had Never Been Probed before. Mrs. Gaddesden'S Own 
 Allowance--For The     Squire Had Always Obstinately Declined to Settle 
 Any Capital On His Married daughters--Had Been, For The     First Time, 
 Paid At The     Proper Date--By Elizabeth Bremerton! At Least, If The 
 Squire Had Signed it, She Had Written The     Cheque. And She Might 
 Perfectly Well Have Signed it. For, As Pamela Had Long Since 
 Reported to Her Sisters, Elizabeth Paid All The     House And Estate 
 Accounts Over Her Own Signature, And Seemed to Have Much More 
 Accurate Knowledge Than The     Squire Himself Of     The     State Of     His Bank 
 Balance, And His Money Affairs Generally. 
   
   
   
 Not That She Ever Paraded these Things In the     Least. But Neither Did 
 She Make Any Unnecessary Mystery About It With The     Squire'S Family. 
 And Indeed they Were Quite Evident To Any One Living in the     House. 
 At Times She Would Make Little, Laughing, Apologetic Remarks To One 
 Of The     Daughters--'I Hope You Don'T Mind!--The Squire Wants Me To 
 Get Things Straight.' But In general, Her Authority By Now Had 
 Become A Matter Of     Course. 
   
   
   
 Her Position In the     Mannering household, However, Was As Nothing to 
 Her Position In the     Estate And The     Neighbourhood. That Was The 
 Amazing thing which Had By Now Begun To Set All Tongues Wagging. Sir 
 Henry Chicksands, Meeting mrs. Gaddesden At The     Station, Had Poured 
 Himself Out To Her. 'That Extraordinary Young Woman Your Father Has 
 Got Hold Of, Is Simply Transforming the     Whole Place. The     Farmers On 
 The Whole Like Her Very Much. But If They Don'T Like Her, They'Re 
 _Afraid Of     Her_! For Heaven'S Sake Don'T Let Her Kill Herself With 
 Over-Work. She'Ll Soon Be Leading the     County.' 
   
   
   
 Yes. Work Indeed! How On Earth Did She Get Through It? In 
 The Mornings There She Was In the     Library, Absorbed in the 
 Catalogue, Writing to The     Squire'S Dictation, Transcribing or 
 Translating greek--His Docile And Obedient Slave. Then In the 
   
 Afternoon--Bicycling all Over The     Estate, And From Dark Onwards, 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 10 Pg 179 
 Till Late At Night, Busy With Correspondence And Office Work, Except 
 Just For Dinner And An Hour Afterwards. 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 The Door Of     The     Outer Hall Opened and Shut. Elizabeth And A Young 
 Man--The New Agent--Entered the     Inner Hall, Where Mrs. Gaddesden Was 
 Sitting, Elizabeth Acknowledging her Presence With A Pleasant Nod 
 And Smile. But They Passed quickly Through To The     Room At The 
 Further End Of     The     Hall, Which Was Now An Estate Office Where 
 Elizabeth Spent The     Latter Part Of     Her Day. It Was Connected both 
 With The     Main Living-Rooms Of     The     House, And With A Side Entrance 
 From The     Park, By Which Visitors On Estate Matters Were Admitted. 
   
   
   
 A Man Was Sitting waiting for Miss Bremerton. He Was The     New Tenant 
 Of The     Derelict Farm, On The     Holme Wood Side Of     The     Estate, And He 
 Had Come To Report On The     Progress Which Had Been Made In clearing 
 And Ploughing the     Land, And Repairing the     Farm-Buildings. He Was A 
 Youngish Man, A Sergeant In a Warwickshire Regiment, Who Had Been 
 Twice Wounded in the     War, And Was Now Discharged. As The     Son Of     An 
 Intelligent Farmer, He Had Had A Good Agricultural Training, And It 
 Was Evident That His Enthusiasms And Those Of     The     Squire'S New 
 'Business-Secretary' Were Running in harness. 
   
   
   
 The New Agent, Captain Dell, Also A Discharged territorial, Who Had 
 Lost An Arm In the     War, Watched the     Scene Between The     Incoming 
 Tenant And Elizabeth, With A Shrewd Pair Of     Eyes, Through Which 
 There Passed occasional Gleams Of     Amusement Or Surprise. He Was 
 Every Day Making further Acquaintance With The     Lady Who Was 
 Apparently To Be His Chief, But He Was Well Aware That He Was Only 
 At The     Beginning of     His Lesson. Astonishing, To See A Woman Taking 
 This Kind Of     Lead!--Asking these Technical Questions--As To Land, 
 Crops, Repairs, Food Production, And The     Rest--Looking every Now And 
 Then At The     Note-Book Beside Her, Full Of     Her Own Notes Made On The 
 Spot, Or Again, Setting down With A Quick Hand Something that Was 
 Said To Her. And All Through He Was Struck With Her Tone Of     Quiet 
 Authority--Without A Touch Of     Boasting or 'Side,' But Also Without A 
   
 Touch Of     Any Mere Feminine Deference To The     Male. She Was There In 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 10 Pg 180 
 The Squire'S Place, And She Never Let It Be Forgotten. Heavens, 
 Women Had Come On During this War! Through The     Young Man'S Mind 
 There Ran A Vague And Whirling sense Of     Change. 
   
   
   
 'Well, Mr. Denman, That All Sounds Splendid!' Said Elizabeth, At 
 Last, As She Rose From Her Table. 'The Country Won'T Starve, If You 
 Can Help It! I Shall Tell The     County Committee All About You On 
 Tuesday. You Don'T Want Another Tractor?' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, No, Thank You! The     Two At Work Are Enough. I Hope You'Ll Be 
 Over Soon. I Should Like To Show You What We'Ve Been After.' The 
 Man'S Tone Was One Of     Eager Good Will. 
   
   
   
 'Oh Yes, I Shall Be Over Before Long,' Said Elizabeth Cheerfully. 
 'It'S So Tremendously Interesting what You'Re Doing. And If You Want 
 Anything i Can Help You In, You Can Always Telephone.' 
   
   
   
 And She Pointed smiling to The     Instrument On The     Table--The First 
 That Had Ever Been Allowed within The     Walls Of     Mannering. And That 
 The Squire Might Not Be Teased with It, Elizabeth Had Long Since 
 Fitted an Extra Inner Door, Covered with Green Baize, To The     Door Of 
 The Office. 
   
   
   
 The New Tenant Departed, And Elizabeth Turned to The     Agent. 
   
   
   
 'I Really Think We'Ve Caught A Good Man There,' She Said, With A 
 Smile. 'Now Will You Tell Me, Please, About Those Timber Proposals? 
 I Hope To Get A Few Words With The     Squire To-Night.' 
   
   
   
 And Leaning back In her Chair, She Listened intently While Captain 
 Dell, Bringing a Roll Of     Papers Out Of     His Pocket, Read Her The 
 Draft Proposals Of     A Well-Known Firm Of     Timber Merchants, For The 
 Purchase Of     Some Of     The     Squire'S Outlying woods Of     Oak And Beech. 
 Lights Had Been Brought In, And Elizabeth Sat Shading her Eyes From 
 The Lamp Before Her,--A Strong And Yet Agreeable Figure. Was It The 
 Consciousness Of     Successful Work--Of Opening horizons, And Satisfied 
 Ambitions, That Had Made A Physical Presence, Always Attractive, So 
   
 Much More Attractive Than Before--That Had Given It A Magnetism And 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 10 Pg 181 
 Fire It Had Never Yet Possessed? Pamela, Who Was Developing fast, 
 And Was Acutely Conscious Of     Elizabeth, Asked herself The     Question, 
 Or Something like It, About Once A Week. And During a Short 
 Christmas Visit That Elizabeth Had Paid Her Own People, Her Gentle 
 Mother, Much Puzzled and A Little Dazzled by Her Daughter, Had 
 Necessarily Pondered the     Why And Wherefore Of     A Change She Felt, But 
 Could Not Analyse. One Thing the     Mother'S Insight Had Been Clear 
 About. Elizabeth Was Not In love. On The     Contrary, The     One 
 Love-Affair Of     Her Life Seemed to Be At Last Forgotten And Put 
 Aside. Elizabeth Was Now In love With _Efficiency_; With A Great 
 Task Given Into Her Hand. As To The     Squire, The     Owner Of     Mannering, 
 Who Had Provided her With The     Task, Mrs. Bremerton Could Not 
 Imagine Him Or Envisage Him At All. Elizabeth'S Accounts Of     Him 
 Were So Reticent And So Contradictory.... 'Well, That'S Very 
 Interesting'--Said Elizabeth Thoughtfully, When Captain Dell Laid 
 Down His Papers--'I Wonder What Mr. Mannering will Say To It? As You 
 Know, I Got His Express Permission For You To Make These Enquiries. 
 But He Hates Cutting down A Single Tree, And This Will Mean A Wide 
 Clearance!' 
   
   
   
 'So It Will--But The     Country Wants Every Stick Of     It. And As To Not 
 Cutting, One Sees That From The     Woods--The Tragedy Of     The 
 Woods!'--Said The     Young Man With Emphasis. 'There Has Been No Decent 
 Forestry On This Estate For Half A Century. I Hope You Will Be Able 
 To Persuade Him, Miss Bremerton. I Expect, Indeed, It'S Hobson'S 
 Choice.' 
   
   
   
 'You Mean The     Timber Will Be Commandeered?' 
   
   
   
 'Probably. The     Government Have Just Come Down On Some Of     Lord 
 Radley'S Woods Just Beyond Our Borders--With Scarcely A Week'S 
 Warning. No "With Your Leave" Or "By Your Leave"! The     Price Fixed, 
 Canadians Sent Down To Cut, And A Light Railway Built From The     Woods 
 To The     Station To Carry The     Timber, Before You Could Say "Jack 
 Robinson."' 
   
   
   
 'You Think The     Price These People Offer Is A Fair One?' She Pointed 
 To The     Draft Contract. 
   
   
   
   
 'Excellent! The     Squire Won'T Get Nearly As Much From The 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 10 Pg 182 
 Government.' 
   
   
   
 'What One Might Do With Some Of     It For The     Estate!' Said Elizabeth, 
 Looking up, Her Blue Eyes Dancing in the     Lamplight. 
   
   
   
 'Rebuild Half The     Cottages?' Said The     Other, Smiling, As He Rose. 'A 
 Village Club-House, A Communal Kitchen, A Small Holdings Scheme--All 
 The Things We'Ve Talked about? Oh Yes, You Could Do All That And 
 More. The     Squire Doesn'T Know What He Possesses.' 
   
   
   
 'Well, I'Ll Take The     Papers To Him,' Said Elizabeth, Holding out Her 
 Hands For Them. 'I May Perhaps Catch Him To-Night' 
   
   
   
 A Little More Business Talk, And The     Agent Departed. Then Elizabeth 
 Dreamily--Still Cogitating a Hundred things--Touched an Electric 
 Bell. A Girl Typist, Who Acted as Her Clerk, Came In from An 
 Adjoining room. Elizabeth Rapidly Dictated a Number Of     Letters, 
 Stayed for A Little Friendly Gossip With The     Girl About Her Father 
 In The     Army Service Corps, Who Had Been In hospital At Rouen, And 
 Had Just Finished, When The     Gong Rang For Afternoon Tea. 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 When Elizabeth Entered, The     Hall Was Crowded. It Was The     Principal 
 Sitting-Room Of     The     House, Now That For Reasons Of     Economy Fires 
 Were Seldom Lit In the     Drawing-Rooms. Before Elizabeth'S Advent It 
 Had Been A Dingy, Uncomfortable Place, But She And Pamela Had 
 Entirely Transformed it. As In the     Estate So In the     House, The 
 Squire Did Not Know What He Possessed. In all Old Houses With A 
 Continuous Life, There Are Accumulations Of     Furniture And Stores, 
 Discarded by The     Generation Of     One Day, And Brought Back By The 
 Fashion Of     The     Next. A Little Routing in attics And Forgotten 
 Cupboards And Chests Had Produced astonishing results. Chippendale 
 Chairs And Settees Had Been Brought Down From The     Servants' 
 Bedrooms; Two Fine Dutch Cabinets Had Been Discovered amid A Mass Of 
 Lumber In an Outhouse; A Tall Japanese Screen, Dating from The     End 
 Of The     Eighteenth Century, And Many Pairs Of     Linen Curtains 
   
 Embroidered about The     Same Time In branching oriental Patterns By 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 10 Pg 183 
 The Hands Of     Mannering ladies, Had Been Unearthed, And Pamela--For 
 Elizabeth Having started the     Search Had Interfered very Little With 
 Its Results--Had Spent Some Of     Her Now Scanty Leisure In making the 
 Best Of     The     Finds. The     Hall Was Now A Charming place, Scented, 
 Moreover, On This January Evening by The     Freesias And Narcissus That 
 Elizabeth Had Managed to Rear In the     House Itself, And Pamela, Who 
 Had Always Been Ashamed of     Her Own Ill-Kept And Out-At-Elbows Home, 
 As Compared with The     Perfections Of     Chetworth, Had Been Showing 
 Arthur And Beryl Chicksands What Had Been Done To Renovate The     Old 
 House Since They Were Last In it--'And All Without Spending a 
 Penny!'--With A Girlish Pleasure Which In the     Captain'S Opinion 
 Became Her Greatly. Pamela Needed indeed a Good Deal Of     Animation To 
 Be As Handsome As She Deserved to Be! A Very Critical Observer Took 
 Note That Her Stock Of     It Was Rapidly Rising. It Was The     Same With 
 The Letters, Too, Which For A Month Or So Past, She Had Condescended 
 To Write Him, After Treating him Most Uncivilly In the     Autumn, And 
 Never Answering a Long Screed--'And A Jolly Good One!'--Which He Had 
 Written Her From Paris In november. 
   
   
   
 As Elizabeth Came In, Pamela Was Reading aloud A Telegram Just 
 Received, And Miss Bremerton Was Greeted with The     News--'Desmond'S 
 Coming to-Night, Instead Of     To-Morrow! They'Ve Given Him Forty-Eight 
 Hours' Leave, And He Goes To France On Thursday.' 
   
   
   
 'That'S Very Short!' Said Elizabeth, As She Took Her Place Beside 
 Pamela, Who Was Making tea. 'Does Your Father Know?' 
   
   
   
 Forest, It Appeared, Had Gone To Tell Him. Meanwhile Captain 
 Chicksands Was Watching with A Keen Eye The     Relation Between Miss 
 Bremerton And Pamela. He Saw That The     Squire'S Secretary Was 
 Scrupulously Careful To Give Pamela Her Place As Daughter Of     The 
 House; But Pamela'S Manner Hardly Showed any Real Intimacy Between 
 Them. And It Was Easy To See Where The     Real Authority Lay. As For 
 Himself He Had Lately Begun To Ask Himself Seriously How Much He Was 
 Interested in pamela. For In truth, Though He Was No Coxcomb, He 
 Could Not Help Seeing--All The     More Because Of     Pamela'S Variable 
 Moods Towards Him--That She Was At Least Incipiently Interested in 
 Him. If So, Was It Fair To Her That They Should Correspond?--And 
 That He Should Come To Mannering whenever He Was Asked and Military 
 Duty Allowed, Now That The     Squire'S Embargo Was At Least Partially 
 Removed? 
   
   
   
 He Confessed to Himself That He Was Glad To Come, That Pamela 
   
 Attracted him. At The     Same Time There Was In him A Stern Sense That 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 10 Pg 184 
 The Time Was No Time For Love-Making. The     German Hosts Were 
 Gathering; The     Vast Breakdown In russia Was Freeing more And More Of 
 Them For The     Western Assault. He Himself Was For The     Moment Doing 
 Some Important Intelligence Work, In close Contact With The     High 
 Command. No One Outside A Very Small Circle Knew Better Than He What 
 Lay In front Of     England--The Fierce Death-Struggle Over A Thousand 
 Miles Of     Front. And Were Men And Women To Be Kissing and Marrying 
 While These Storm-Clouds Of     War--This Rain Of     Blood--Were Gathering 
 Overhead? 
   
   
   
 Involuntarily He Moved further From Pamela. His Fine Face With The 
 Rather High Cheek-Bones, Strong Mouth, And Lined brow, Seemed to Put 
 Softness Away. He Approached elizabeth. 
   
   
   
 'What Is The     Squire Doing about His Wood, Miss Bremerton? The 
 Government'S Desperately In want Of     Ash!' 
   
   
   
 He Spoke Almost As One Official Might Speak To Another--Comrade To 
 Comrade. What He Had Heard About Her Doings From His Father Had 
 Filled his Soldier'S Mind With An Eager Admiration For Her. That Was 
 How Women Should Bear Themselves In this War--As The     Practical 
 Helpers Of     Men. 
   
   
   
 He Fell Into The     Chair Beside Her, And Elizabeth Was Soon Deep In 
 Conversation With Him, A Conversation That Any One Might Overhear 
 Who Would. It Turned partly On The     Armies Abroad--Partly On The 
 Effort At Home. There Was Warmth--Even Passion--In It, Studiously 
 Restrained. But It Was The     Passion Of     Two Patriots, Conscious 
 Through Every Pulse Of     Their Country'S Strait. 
   
   
   
 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 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 10 Pg 185 
 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.' 
   
   
   
 But As They Gathered round The     Fire, Expecting the     Young Gunner, She 
 Hardly Opened her Lips Again. Arthur Chicksands Was Quite Conscious 
 That He Had Wounded her. She Appeared to Him, As She Sat There In 
 The Firelight, In all The     First Fairness And Freshness Of     Her Youth, 
 As An Embodied temptation. Again He Said To Himself That Other Men 
 Might Love And Marry On The     Threshold Of     Battle; He Could Not Bring 
 Himself To Think It Justifiable--Whether For The     Woman Or The     Man. 
 In A Few Weeks' Time He Would Be Back In france And In the     Very 
 Thick, Perhaps, Of     The     Final Struggle--Of Its Preparatory Stages, At 
 Any Rate. Could One Make Love To A Beautiful Creature Like That At 
 Such A Moment, And Then Leave Her, With A Whole Mind?--The Mind And 
 The Nerve That Were The     Country'S Due? 
   
   
   
 All The     Same He Had Never Been So Aware Of     Her Before. And 
 Simultaneously His Mind Was Invaded by The     Mute, Haunting certainty 
 That Her Life Was Reaching out Towards His, And That He Was 
 Repelling and Hurting her. 
   
   
   
 Suddenly--Into The     Midst Of     Them, While Mrs. Gaddesden Was Talking 
   
 Endlessly In her Small Plaintive Voice About Rations And 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 10 Pg 186 
 Queues--There Dropped the     Sound Of     A Car Passing the     Windows, And A 
 Boy'S Clear Voice. 
   
   
   
 'Desmond!' Cried pamela, With Almost A Sob Of     Relief, And Like One 
 Escaping from A Nightmare She Sprang Up And Ran To Greet Her 
 Brother. 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 Meanwhile Elizabeth Had Found The     Squire Waiting for Her, And, As 
 She Saw At Once, In a State Of     Tension. 
   
   
   
 'What Was That You Were Saying to Me About Timber Last Week?' He 
 Demanded imperiously As She Entered, Without Giving her Time To 
 Speak. 'I Hear This Intolerable Government Are Behaving like 
 Madmen, Cutting down Everything they Can Lay Hands On. They Shan'T 
 Have My Trees--I Would Burn Them First!' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Paused in some Dismay. 
   
   
   
 'You Remember--' She Began. 
   
   
   
 'Remember What?' It Was Long Since She Had Heard So Snappish A Tone. 
   
   
   
 'That You Authorized me--' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, I Daresay, I Gave Myself Away--I'M Always Doing so. I Don'T 
 Mean Half I Say. You'Re Too Full Of     Business--You Take Me Up Too 
 Quick. What Are Those Papers You'Ve Got There?' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth'S Red cheeks Showed her Taken Aback. It Was The     First Time 
 For Weeks That Her Employer Had Turned upon Her So. She Had Grown So 
   
 Accustomed to Managing him, To Taming the     Irritable Temper That No 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 10 Pg 187 
 One Else But She Could Cope With, And, Unconsciously, So Proud Of 
 Her Success, That She Was Not Prepared for This Attack. She Met It 
 Meekly. 
   
   
   
 'I Have A Proposal Here To Submit To You, From ---- & Co.' (She 
 Named a Firm Of     Timber-Merchants Famous Throughout The     Midlands). 
 'There Is Nothing in it--Captain Dell Is Certain--That Would Injure 
 The Estate. You Have Such Masses Of     Timber! And, If You Don'T Sell, 
 You May Find It Commandeered. You Know What'S Happened to Lord 
 Radley?' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Sulkily Demanded to Be Informed. Elizabeth Told The 
 Story, Standing at His Desk, Like A Clerk Making a Report. It Seemed 
 To Enrage Her Auditor. 
   
   
   
 'This _Accursed_ War!' He Broke Out, When She Had Finished--'It 
 Makes Slaves And Idiots Of     Us All. It Must--It Shall End!' And 
 Marching tempestuously Up And Down, He Went Off Into One Of     The 
 Pessimist And Pacifist Harangues To Which She Was More Or Less 
 Accustomed. Who Would Rid The     Country Of     A Government That Could 
 Neither Make Peace Nor Make War?--That Foresaw Nothing--That Was 
 Making life Unbearable At Home, By A Network Of     Senseless 
 Restrictions, While It Wasted millions Abroad, And In the     Military 
 Camps! The     Labour Party Were The     Only People With A Grain Of     Sense. 
 They At Least Would Try To Make Peace. Only, When They Had Made It, 
 To Be Governed by Them Would Be Even Worse Than To Be Governed by 
 Lloyd George. There Was No Possible Life Anywhere For Decent Quiet 
 People. And As For The     Ravaging and Ruin Of     The     Woods That Was Going 
 On All Over England-- 
   
   
   
 'The Submarine Return Is Worse This Week,' Said Elizabeth In a Low 
 Voice. 
   
   
   
 She Had Gone To Her Own Table And Was Sitting there Till The 
 Hurricane Should Pass Over. There Was In her A Fresh And Chafing 
 Sense Of     The     Obstacles Laid In her Path--The Path Of     The     Scientific 
 And Successful Organizer--By The     Squire'S Perversities. It Was Not 
 As Though He Were A Pacifist By Conviction, Religious Or Other. She 
 Had Seen Him Rout And Trample On Not A Few Genuine Professors Of     The 
 Faith. His Whole Opposition To The     War Rested on The     Limitations 
   
 And Discomforts Inflicted on His Own Life. It Reminded her Of 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 10 Pg 188 
 Certain Fragments Of     Dialogue She Had Overheard In the     Winter, Where 
 She Had Chanced to Find Herself Alone In a Railway Carriage Full Of 
 A Group Of     Disaffected workmen Returning from A Strike Meeting at 
 Leicester. 'If There Are Many Like These, Is The     Country Worth 
 Saving?' She Was Saying to Herself All The     Time, In a Dumb Passion. 
   
   
   
 Yet, After All, Those Men Had Done Months And Years Of     Labour For 
 The Country. Saying 'I Will Not Go!' They Had Yet Gone. Without A 
 Spark Of     High Feeling or Conscious Self-Sacrifice To Ease Their 
 Toil, They Had Yet, Week By Week, Made The     Guns And The     Shells Which 
 Had Saved the     Armies Of     England. When This Temporary Outbreak Was 
 Over They Would Go Back And Make Them Again. And They Were Tired 
 Men--Sallow-Faced, And Bowed before Their Time. 
   
   
   
 But What Had This Whimsical, Accomplished man Before Her Ever Done 
 For His Country That He Should Rail Like This? It Was Difficult 
 After A Tiring day To Keep Scorn And Dissent Concealed. They 
 Probably Showed in her Expression, For The     Squire Turned upon Her As 
 She Made Her Remark About The     Submarines, Examining her With A Pair 
 Of Keen Eyes. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, I Know Very Well What You And That Fellow Chicksands Think 
 About Persons Like Me Who Endeavour To See Things _As They 
 Are_!'--He Smote A Chair Before Him--'And Not As You And Our 
 War-Party _Wish_ Them To Be. Well, Well--Now Then To Business. Who 
 Wants To Cut My Woods--And What Do They Offer For Them?' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Put The     Papers In front Of     Him. He Turned them Over. 
   
   
   
 'H'M--They Want The     Cross Wood--One Of     The     Most Beautiful Woods In 
 England. I Have Spent Days There When I Was Young Drawing the     Trees. 
 And Who'S The     Idiot'--He Pointed to Some Marginal Notes--'Who Is 
 Always Carping and Girding? "Good Forestry" Would Have Done This And 
 Not Done That. "Mismanagement"--"Neglect"! Upon My Word, Who Made 
 This Man A Judge Over Me?' 
   
   
   
 And Flushed with Wrath, The     Squire Looked angrily At His Secretary. 
 'Heavens!'--Thought Elizabeth--'Why Didn'T I Edit The     Papers Before 
   
 I Showed them?' But Aloud She Said With Her Good-Tempered smile-- 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 10 Pg 189 
   
   
   
 'I Am Afraid I Took All Those Remarks As Applying to Mr. Hull. He 
 Was Responsible For The     Woods, Wasn'T He? He Told Me He Was.' 
   
   
   
 'Nothing of     The     Kind! In the     End The     Owner Is Responsible. This 
 Fellow Is Attacking _Me_!' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Said Nothing. She Could Only Wait In hope To See How The 
 Large Sums Mentioned in the     Contract Might Work. 
   
   
   
 '"Maximum Price"! What'S This?--"Had Mr. Mannering been Willing to 
 Enter Into Negotiations With Us Last Year,"'--The Squire Began To 
 Read A Letter Accompanying the     Draft Contract--'"When We Approached 
 Him, We Should Probably Have Been Able To Offer Him A Better Price. 
 But Under The     Scale Of     Prices Now Fixed by The     Government--"' 
   
   
   
 The Owner Of     Mannering bounded out Of     His Seat. 
   
   
   
 'And You Actually Mean To Say That I May Not Only Be Forced to Sell 
 My Woods--But Whether I Am Forced or Not, I Can Only Sell Them At 
 The Government Price? Intolerable!--Absolutely _Intolerable_! Every 
 Day That Englishmen Put Up With These Tyrannies Is A Disgrace To The 
 Country!' 
   
   
   
 'The Country Must Have Artillery Waggons And Aeroplanes,' Said 
 Elizabeth, Softly. 'Where Are We To Get The     Wood? There Are Not 
 Ships Enough To Bring it Overseas?' 
   
   
   
 'And Suppose I Grant You That--Why Am I Not To Get My Fair 
 Price--Like Anybody Else? Just Tell Me That!' 
   
   
   
 'Why, Everybody'S "Controlled"!' Cried elizabeth. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 10 Pg 190 
 'Pshaw! I Am Sorry To Be Uncivil'--A Sarcastic Bow In her 
 Direction--'But I Really Must Point Out That You Talk Nonsense. 
 Look At The     Money In the     Banks--Look At The     Shops And The 
 Advertisements--Look At The     Money That People Pay For Pictures, And 
 Old Books, And Autographs. _Somebody'S_ Making profits--That'S 
 Clear. But A Wretched landowner--With A Few Woods To Sell--It Is 
 Easy To Victimize Him!' 
   
   
   
 'It Comes To A Large Sum,' Said Elizabeth, Looking down. At Last She 
 Was Conscious Of     A Real Exasperation With The     Squire. For Four 
 Months Now She Had Been Wrestling with Him--For His Own Good And The 
 Country'S, And Everything had Always To Be Begun Again. Suddenly Her 
 Spirits Drooped. 
   
   
   
 The Squire Observed her Furtively Out Of     The     Corners Of     His Eyes. 
 Then He Turned to The     Last Page Of     The     Contract, With Its Final 
 Figures. His Eyebrows Went Up. 
   
   
   
 'The Man'S A _Fool_!' He Said Vehemently. 'I Know The     Value Of     My 
 Own Timber A Great Deal Better Than He. They'Re Not Worth A Third Of 
 What They Put Them At.' 
   
   
   
 'Even At The     Government Price?' Elizabeth Ventured slyly. 'He'Ll Be 
 Very Glad To Give It!' 
   
   
   
 'Then It'S Blackmailing the     Country,' Said The     Squire Obstinately. 
 'I Loathe The     War, But I'M Not A Profiteer.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Was Silent. If The     Squire Persisted in rejecting this 
 Deal, Which He Had Himself Invited in another Mood, Half Her Dreams 
 For The     Future, The     Dreams Of     A Woman Just Beginning to Feel The 
 Intoxication Of     Power, Or, To Put It Better, The     Creative Passion Of 
 The Reformer, Were Undone. She Had Already Saved the     Squire Much 
 Money. When All Reasonable Provision Had Been Made For Investment, 
 Replanting, And The     Rest, This Sale Would Still Leave Enough To 
   
 Transform The     Estate And Scores Of     Human Lives Upon It. Her Will 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 10 Pg 191 
 Chafed hotly Under The     Curb Imposed upon It By The     Caprices Of     A 
 Master For Whom--Save Only As A Greek Scholar--She Had Little 
 Respect. After A While, As The     Squire Was Still Turning over The 
 Contract With Occasional Grunts And Mutterings, She Asked-- 
   
   
   
 'Will You Please Tell Me What I Am To Reply?' 
   
   
   
 Her Voice Was Cold And Measured. 
   
   
   
 The Squire Threw Up His White Head. 
   
   
   
 'What Hurry Is There?' He Said Testily. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, None--If You Wish It Delayed. Only--' She Hesitated--'Captain 
 Dell Tells Me The     Government Inspectors Are Already In the 
 Neighbourhood. He Expects Them Here Before Long.' 
   
   
   
 'And If I Make A Stand--If I Oppose You--Well--It'Ll Be The     Gates 
 Over Again?' She Shrugged her Shoulders. 
   
   
   
 'We Must Try To Find The     Money Some Other Way. It Is Badly Wanted. I 
 Thought--' 
   
   
   
 'You Thought I Had Authorized this--And You'Ve Given All Your Work 
 For Nothing? You Think I'M An Impossible Person?' 
   
   
   
 Suddenly She Found Him Sitting beside Her. Perforce She Looked him 
 In The     Face. 
   
   
   
 'Don'T Give Notice Again!' He Said, Almost With Passion. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 10 Pg 192 
 'It'S Not So Easy Now,' She Said, With A Rather Uncertain Voice. 
   
   
   
 'Because You'Ve Done So Much For Me?--Because You'Ve Slaved and Put 
 Your Heart Into It? That'S True. Well Now, Look Here. We'Ll Put That 
 Beastly Thing away To-Night--Perhaps I Shall Be In a Better Temper 
 In A Few Days.' 
   
   
   
 There Was A Note In his Voice He Seemed unable To Keep Out Of     It. 
 Elizabeth Looking up Caught The     Fire Light On The     Sketch Of     Desmond. 
 Had The     Squire'S Eyes Been On It Too? Impossible To Say--For He Had 
 Already Turned away. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, Yes,--Put It Away!' She Said Hurriedly. 
   
   
   
 'And I'Ll Go Over The     Woods With You On--Friday,' Said The     Squire 
 After A Pause. 'Oh, I Don'T Deny That The     Money Is Tempting. I'M Not 
 Such A Pauper As I Once Was, Thanks To You. I Seem To Have Some 
 Money In the     Bank--Astonishing situation! And--There'S A Jolly Good 
 Sale At Christie'S Coming on.' 
   
   
   
 He Looked at Her Half-Shamefaced, Half-Ready To Resent It If She 
 Laughed at Him. 
   
   
   
 Her Eyes Laughed. 
   
   
   
 'I Thought You'D Forgotten That. I Saw You Mark The     Catalogue.' 
   
   
   
 'Beech And Oak Between Two And Three Hundred years Old--In Exchange 
 For Greek Gems, Between Two And Three Thousand. Well--I'Ll Consider 
 It. Now Then, Are You Feeling better?' 
   
   
   
 And To Her Amazement He Approached her With An Outstretched hand. 
 Elizabeth Mechanically Placed her Own In it. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 10 Pg 193 
   
 'I Know What You Want,' He Said Impetuously. 'You'Ve Got A Head Full 
 Of Dreams. They'Re Not My Dreams--But You'Ve A Right To Them--So 
 Long As You'Re Kind To Mine.' 
   
   
   
 'I Try To Be,' She Said With A Rather Tremulous Lip. 
   
   
   
 At That Moment The     Library Door Opened. Neither Perceived it. 
 Desmond Came In softly, Lest His Father Should Be At Work. A Carved 
 Oak Screen Round The     Door Hid His Entrance, And As He Emerged into 
 The Light His Eyes Caught The     Two Distant Figures Standing hand In 
 Hand. 
   
   
   
 Instinctively He Stepped back A Few Paces And Noisily Opened the 
 Door. The     Squire Walked away. 
   
   
   
 'Why, Desmond!' Said His Father, As The     Boy Emerged into The     Light, 
 'Your Train'S Punctual For Once. Thank You, Miss Bremerton--That'Ll 
 Do. Kindly Write To Those People And Say That I Am Considering the 
 Matter. I Needn'T Keep You Any Longer....' 
   
   
   
 That Night A Demon Came To Elizabeth And Offered her A Faust-Like 
 Bargain. Ambition--Noble Ambition On The     One Side--An 'Elderly 
 Lunatic' On The     Other. And She Began To Consider It! 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 11 Pg 194 
 Everybody In mannering had Gone To Bed but Desmond And Pamela. It 
 Was Not Certain Indeed that The     Squire Had Gone To Bed, But As There 
 Was A Staircase Beside One Of     The     Doors Of     The     Library Leading 
 Direct To His Room, It Was Not Likely That He Would Cross The     Hall 
   
 Again. The     Twins Felt Themselves Alone. 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 11 Pg 195 
   
   
   
 'I Daresay There'Ll Be A Raid To-Night,' Said Desmond, 'It'S So 
 Bright And Still. Put Down That Lamp A Moment, Pamela.' 
   
   
   
 She Obeyed, And He Threw Away His Cigarette, Went To One Of     The 
 Windows, And Drew Up The     Blinds. 
   
   
   
 'Listen!' He Said, Holding up His Hand. Pamela Came To His Side, And 
 They Both Heard Through The     Stillness That Sound Of     Distant Guns 
 Which No English Ear Had Heard--Till Now--Since The     Civil War. 
   
   
   
 'And There Are The     Searchlights!' 
   
   
   
 For Over London, Some Forty Miles Away Behind A Low Range Of     Hills, 
 Faint Fingers Of     Light Were Searching the     Sky. 
   
   
   
 'At This Very Moment, Perhaps,'--Said The     Boy Between His 
 Teeth--'Those Demons Are Blowing women And Children To Pieces--Over 
 There!' 
   
   
   
 Pamela Shivered and Laid Her Cheek Against His Shoulder. But Both He 
 And She Were Aware Of     That Strange Numbness Which In the     Fourth Year 
 Of The     War Has Been Creeping over All The     Belligerent Nations, So 
 That Horror Has Lost Its First Edge, And The     Minds, Whether Of 
 Soldiers In the     Field, Or Of     Civilians At Home, Have Become Hardened 
 To Facts Or Ideas Which Would Once Have Stirred in them Wild 
 Ferments Of     Rage And Terror. 
   
   
   
 'Shall We Win, This Year, Desmond?' Said Pamela, As They Stood 
 Gazing out Into The     Park, Where, Above A Light Silvery Mist A Young 
 Moon Was Riding in a Clear Blue. Not A Branch Stirred in the     Great 
 Leafless Trees; Only An Owl'S Plaintive Cry Seemed to Keep In rhythm 
 With That Sinister Murmur On The     Horizon. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 11 Pg 196 
 'Win?--This Year?' Said The     Boy, With A Shrug. 'Don'T Reckon On It, 
 Pam. Those Russian Fools Have Dished it All For Months!' 
   
   
   
 'But The     Americans Will Make Up?' 
   
   
   
 Desmond Assented eagerly. And In the     Minds Of     The     English Boy And 
 Girl There Rose A Kind Of     Vague Vision Of     An Endless Procession Of 
 Great Ships, On A Boundless Ocean, Carrying men, And Men, And More 
 Men--Guns, And Aeroplanes, And Shining piles Of     Shells--Bringing the 
 New World To The     Help Of     The     Old. 
   
   
   
 Desmond Turned to His Sister. 
   
   
   
 'Look Here, Pam, This Time Next Week I Shall Be In the     Line. Well, I 
 Daresay I Shan'T Be At The     Actual Front For A Week Or Two--But It 
 Won'T Be Long. We Shall Want Every Battery We'Ve Got. Now--Suppose I 
 Don'T Come Back?' 
   
   
   
 'Desmond!' 
   
   
   
 'For Goodness' Sake, Don'T Be Silly, Old Girl. We'Ve Got To Look At 
 It, You Know. The     Death-Rate Of     Men Of     My Age' (_Men!--Desmond, A 
 Man_!) 'Has Gone Up To About Four Times What It Was Before The     War. 
 I Saw That In one Of     The     Papers This Morning. I'Ve Only Got A 
 Precious Small Chance. And If I Don'T Come Back, I Want To Know What 
 You'Re Going to Do With Yourself.' 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T Care What Happens To Me If You Don'T Come Back!' Said The 
 Girl Passionately. She Was Leaning with Folded arms Against The     Side 
 Of The     Window, The     Moonlight, Or Something else, Blanching the     Face 
 And Her Fair Hair. 
   
   
   
 Desmond Looked at Her With A Troubled expression. For Two Or Three 
   
 Years Past He Had Felt A Special Responsibility Towards This 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 11 Pg 197 
 Twin-Sister Of     His. Who Was There To Look After Her But He? He Saw 
 That His Father Never Gave Her A Serious Thought, And As To 
 Aubrey--Well, He Too Seemed to Have No Room In his Mind For 
 Pam--Poor Old Pam! 
   
   
   
 'How Are You Getting on With Broomie?' He Asked suddenly. 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T Like Her!' Said Pamela Fiercely. 'I Shall Never Like Her!' 
   
   
   
 'Well, That'S Awkward,'--Said The     Boy Slowly, 'Because--' 
   
   
   
 'Because What?' 
   
   
   
 'Because I Believe She Means To Marry Father!' 
   
   
   
 Pamela Laughed angrily. 
   
   
   
 'Ah, You'Ve Found That Out Too!' 
   
   
   
 Desmond Pulled down The     Blind Again, And They Went Back To The     Fire, 
 Sitting on The     Floor Beside It, With Their Arms Round Each Other, As 
 They Had Been Used to Do As Children. And Then In a Low Voice, Lest 
 Any Ears In the     Sleeping house Should Be, After All, On The     Alert, 
 He Told Her What He Had Seen In the     Library. He Was Rather Ashamed 
 Of Telling her; Only There Was This Queer Sense Of     Last Words--Of 
 Responsibility--For His Sister, Which Excused it. 
   
   
   
 Pamela Listened despondently. 
   
   
   
 'Perhaps They'Re Engaged already! Well,--I Can Tell You This--If 
 Father Does Marry Her, She'Ll Rule Him, And Me--If I Give Her The 
   
 Chance--And Everybody On The     Place, With A Rod Of     Iron.' 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 11 Pg 198 
   
   
 Desmond At First Remonstrated. He Had Been Taken Aback By The     Sudden 
 Vision In the     Library; And Pamela'S Letters For Some Time Past Had 
 Tended to Alter His First Liking for 'Broomie' Into A Feeling more 
 Distrustful And Uncertain. But, After All, Broomie'S Record Must Be 
 Remembered. 'She Wouldn'T Sign That Codicil Thing--She Made Father 
 Climb Down About The     Gates--And Sir Henry Says She'S Begun To Pull 
 The Estate Together Like Anything, And If Father Will Only Let Her 
 Alone For A Year Or Two She'Ll Make Him A Rich Man.' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, I Know,' Said Pamela Gloomily, 'She'S Paid Most Of     The     Bills 
 Already. When I Go Into Fallerton Now--Everybody--All The     Tradesmen 
 Are As Sweet As Sugar.' 
   
   
   
 'Well, That'S Something to The     Good, Isn'T It? Don'T Be Unfair!' 
   
   
   
 'I'M Not Unfair!' Cried pamela. 'Don'T You See How She Just Swallows 
 Up Everybody'S Attention--How Nobody Else Matters When She'S 
 There! How, Can You Expect _Me_ To Like That--If She Were An 
 Archangel--Which She Isn'T!' 
   
   
   
 'But Has She Done Anything nasty--Anything to Bother You?' 
   
   
   
 'Well, Of     Course, I'M Just A Cypher When She'S There. I'M Afraid I 
 Oughtn'T To Mind--But I Do!' 
   
   
   
 And Pamela, With Her Hands Round Her Knees, Stared into The     Fire In 
 Bitterness Of     Spirit. She Couldn'T Explain, Even To Desmond, That 
 The Inward Eye All The     Time Was Tormented by Two Kindred 
 Visions--Arthur In the     Hall That Afternoon, Talking war Work With 
 Elizabeth With Such Warm And Eager Deference, And Arthur On Holme 
 Hill, Stretched at Elizabeth'S Feet, And Bandying classical Chaff 
 With Her. And There Was A Third, Still More Poignant, Of     A Future In 
 Which Elizabeth Would Be Always There, The     Centre Of     The     Picture, 
 Mistress Of     The     House, The     Clever And Charming woman, Beside Whom 
 Girls In their Teens Had No Chance. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 11 Pg 199 
   
 She Was Startled out Of     These Reflections By A Remark From Desmond. 
   
   
   
 'You Know, Pam, You Ought To Get Married soon.' 
   
   
   
 The Boy Spoke Shyly--But Gravely And Decidedly. Pam Thought With A 
 Sudden Anguish--'He Would Never Have Said That, Unless--' 
   
   
   
 She Laid Her Head On His Shoulder, Clinging to Him. 
   
   
   
 'I Shan'T Get Married, Old Boy.' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, That'S Nonsense! Look Here, Pam--You Mustn'T Mind My Poking 
 My Nose Into Things Where I'Ve No Business. You See, It'S 
 Because--Well, I'Ve Sometimes Thought--Punch My Head, If You 
 Like!--That You Had A Fancy For Arthur Chicksands.' 
   
   
   
 Pamela Laughed. 
   
   
   
 'Well, As He Hasn'T Got Any Fancy For Me, You Needn'T Take That Into 
 Your Dear Old Head!' 
   
   
   
 'Why, He Was Always Very Fond Of     You, Pam.' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, Yes, He Liked ragging me When I Was A Child. I'M Not Good 
 Enough For Him Now.' 
   
   
   
 'What Do You Mean--Not Good Enough?' 
   
   
   
 'Not Clever Enough, You Silly Old Boy. He'Ll Marry Somebody Much 
 Older Than Me.' 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 11 Pg 200 
   
   
 Desmond Ruminated. 
   
   
   
 'He Seemed to Be Getting on With Broomie This Afternoon?' 
   
   
   
 'Magnificently. He Always Does. She'S His Sort. She Writes To Him.' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, Does She?' The     Boy'S Voice Was Dry And Hostile. He Began To 
 Understand, Or Thought He Did. Miss Bremerton Was Not Only Plotting 
 To Marry His Father--Had Perhaps Been Plotting for It From The 
 Beginning--But Was Besides Playing an Unfair Game With Pam--Spoiling 
 Pam'S Chances--Cutting in where She Wasn'T Wanted--Grabbing, In 
 Fact. Anger Was Mounting in him. Why Should His Father Be Mopped up 
 Like This?--And Pamela Made Unhappy? 
   
   
   
 'I'D Jolly Well Like To Stop It All!' He Said, Under His Breath. 
   
   
   
 'Stop What? You Dear, Foolish Old Man! You Can'T Stop It, Dezzy.' 
   
   
   
 'Well, If She'Ll Only Make Him Happy--!' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, She'Ll Be Quite Decent To Him,' Said Pamela, With A Shrug, 'But 
 She'Ll Despise Him!' 
   
   
   
 'What The     Deuce Do You Mean, Pam?' 
   
   
   
 Whereupon, Quite Conscious That She Was Obeying an Evil And Feverish 
 Impulse, But Unable To Control It, Pamela Went Into A Long And 
 Passionate Justification Of     What She Had Said. 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. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 11 Pg 201 
 '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. By The 
 Time Their Talk Was Over He Felt That He Too Hated elizabeth 
 Bremerton, And That It Was Horrid To Have To Leave Pamela With Her. 
   
   
   
 When They Said Good-Night Pamela Threw Herself On Her Bed face 
 Downwards, More Wretched than She Had Ever Been--Wretched because 
 Desmond Was Going, And Might Be Killed, Wretched, Too, Because Her 
 Conscience Told Her That She Had Spoilt His Last Evening, And Made 
 Him Exceedingly Unhappy, By A Lot Of     Exaggerated complaints. She Was 
 Degenerating--She Knew It. 'I Am A Little Beast, Compared to What I 
 Was When I Left School,' She Confessed to Herself With Tears, And 
 Did Not Know How To Get Rid Of     This Fiery Plague That Was Eating at 
   
 Her Heart. She Seemed to Look Back To A Time--Only Yesterday!--When 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 11 Pg 202 
 Poetry And High Ideals, Friendships And Religion Filled her Mind; 
 And Now Nothing--Nothing!--Was Of     Any Importance, But The     Look, The 
 Voice, The     Touch Of     A Man. 
   
   
   
 The Next Day, Desmond'S Last Day At Home, For He Was Due In london 
 By The     Evening, Was Gloomy And Embarrassed for All Concerned. 
 Elizabeth, Pre-Occupied and Shrinking from Her Own Thoughts, Could 
 Not Imagine What Had Happened. She Had Put Off All Her Engagements 
 For The     Day, That She Might Help In any Last Arrangements That Might 
 Have To Be Made For Desmond. 
   
   
   
 But Desmond Declined to Be Helped, Not Rudely, But With A Decision, 
 Which Took Elizabeth Aback. 
   
   
   
 'Mayn'T I Look Out Some Books For You? I Have Found Some More Pocket 
 Classics,' She Had Said To Him With A Smile, Remembering his 
 Application To Her In the     Autumn. 
   
   
   
 'No, Thank You. I Shall Have No Time.' And With That, A Prompt 
 Retreat To Pamela And The     Den. Elizabeth, Indeed, Who Was All 
 Eagerness To Serve Him, Found Herself Rebuffed at Every Turn. 
   
   
   
 Nor Were Matters Any Better With Pamela, Who Had Cried off Her 
 Hospital Work In order To Pack For Desmond. Elizabeth, Seeing her 
 Come Downstairs With An Armful Of     Khaki Shirts To Be Marked, Offered 
 Assistance--Almost Timidly. But Pamela'S 'Thank You, But I'D Rather 
 Not Trouble You--I Can Do It Quite Well'--Was So Frosty That 
 Elizabeth Could Only Retire--Bewildered--To The     Library, Where She 
 And The     Squire Gave A Morning'S Work To The     Catalogue, And Never 
 Said A Word Of     Farm Or Timber. 
   
   
   
 But The     Squire Worked irritably, Finding fault With A Number Of 
 Small Matters, And Often Wandering away Into The     House To See What 
 Desmond Was Doing. During these Intervals Elizabeth Would Sit, Pen 
 In Hand, Staring absently Into The     Dripping garden And The     Park 
 Beaten By A Cold Rain. The     Future Began To Seem To Her Big With 
 Events And Perplexity. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 11 Pg 203 
 Then With The     Evening came The     Boy'S Leave-Taking; Full Of     Affection 
 Towards His Father And Sister, And Markedly Chilly In the     Case Of 
 Elizabeth. When The     Station Taxi Had Driven Off, Elizabeth--With 
 That Cold Touch Of     The     Boy'S Fingers Still Tingling on Her 
 Hand--Turned from The     Front Door To See Pamela Disappearing to The 
 Schoolroom, And The     Squire Fidgeting with An Evening paper Which The 
 Taxi Had Brought Him From The     Station. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Suddenly Noticed the     Shaking of     The     Paper, Over Which Only 
 The Crest Of     White Hair Showed. Too Bad Of     Pamela To Have Gone Off 
 Without A Word To Her Father! Was It Sympathy With The     Squire, Or 
 Resentment On Her Own Account, That Made Elizabeth Go Up To 
 Him?--Though At A Respectful Distance. 
   
   
   
 'Shall We Finish The     Bit Of     Translation We Began This Morning, If 
 You'Re Not Busy?' She Said Gently. It Was Very Rarely Now That She 
 Was Able To Do Any Classical Work After The     Mornings. 
   
   
   
 The Squire Threw Down The     Newspaper, And Strode On Before Her To The 
 Library Without A Word. Elizabeth Followed. Rain And Darkness Had 
 Been Shut Out. The     Wood Fire Glowed on The     Hearth, And Its Ruddy 
 Light Was On The     Face Of     The     Nikê, And Its Solemn Outstretched 
 Wings. All The     Apparatus Of     Their Common Work Was Ready, The     Work 
 That Both Loved. Elizabeth Felt A Sudden, Passionate Drawing towards 
 This Man Twenty Years Older Than Herself, Which Seemed to Correspond 
 To The     New And Smarting sense Of     Alienation From The     Twins And Their 
 Raw, Unjust Youth. What Had Been The     Reason For Their Behaviour To 
 Her That Day?--What Had She Done? She Was Conscious Of     Long Weeks Of 
 Effort, In pamela'S Case,--Trying to Please And Win Her; And Of     A 
 Constant Tender Interest In desmond, Which Had Never Missed an 
 Opportunity Of     Doing or Suggesting something he Might Like--All For 
 This! She Must Have Offended them She Supposed in some Way; How, 
 She Could Not Imagine. But Her Mood Was Sore; And, Self-Controlled 
 As She Was, Her Pulse Raced. 
   
   
   
 Here, However, She Was Welcome, She Was Needed; She Could Distract 
 And Soothe A Bitterness Of     Soul Best Measured by The     Squire'S Most 
 Unusual Taciturnity. No Railing at The     Government Or The     War, 
   
 Not A Fling even At The     'D----D Pedant, Chicksands!' Or 'The 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 11 Pg 204 
 Bubbly-Jocks,' As He Liked to Call The     Members Of     The     County War 
 Committee. Elizabeth Put A Text Of     Aristophanes--The _Pax_--Into His 
 Hands, And Drew Her Table Near To Him, Waiting his Pleasure. There 
 Was A Lamp Behind Him Which Fell On Her Broad, White Brow, Her 
 Waiting eyes And Hand, And All The     Friendly Intelligence Of     Her 
 Face. The     Squire Began Haltingly, Lost His Place, Almost Threw The 
 Book Away; But She Cheered him On, Admired this Phrase, Delicately 
 Amended that, Till The     Latent Passion Had Gripped him, And He Was 
 Soon In full Swing, Revelling in all The     Jests And Topicalities Of 
 The Play, Where The     Strikers And Pacifists, The     Profiteers, The 
 Soldiers And Munition Workers Of     Two Thousand Odd Years Ago, Fight 
 And Toil, Prate And Wrangle And Scheme, As Eager And As Alive As 
 Their Descendants Of     To-Day. Soon His High, Tempestuous Laugh Rang 
 Out; Elizabeth'S Gentler Mirth Answering. Sometimes There Was A 
 Dispute About A Word Or A Rendering; She Would Put Up Her Own View, 
 With Obstinacy, So That He Might Have The     Pleasure Of     Knocking it 
 Down. And All Through There Was The     Growing sense Of     Comradeship, Of 
 Mutual Understanding, Which, In their Classical Work At Least, Had 
 Been Always Present For Elizabeth, Since Her First Acquaintance With 
 Her Strange Employer. 
   
   
   
 When She Rose, Reluctantly, At The     Sound Of     The     Dressing-Bell, The 
 Squire Paced up And Down While She Put Her Books And Papers Away. 
 Then As She Was Going, He Turned abruptly-- 
   
   
   
 'I Told Forest To Order The     _Times_--Will You See He Does It?' 
   
   
   
 'Certainly.' 
   
   
   
 'I Loathe All Newspapers,' He Said Sombrely. 'If We Must Go To The 
 Devil, I Don'T Want To Know Too Much About It. But Still--' 
   
   
   
 She Waited a Moment, But As Nothing more Came She Was Leaving the 
 Room, When He Added-- 
   
   
   
 'And Don'T Forget The     Timber Business To-Morrow Afternoon. Tell Dell 
 To Meet Us In cross Wood.' 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 11 Pg 205 
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 When She Had Gone, The     Squire Still Continued pacing, Absorbed 
 In Meeting the     Attack Of     New And Strange Ideas. He Had 
 Always Been A Man With A Singularly Small Reflective Gift. 
 Self-Examination--Introspection Of     Any Sort--Were Odious To Him. He 
 Lived on Stimulus From Outside, Attracted or Repelled, Amused or 
 Interested, Bored or Angry, As The     Succession Of     Events Or Impressions 
 Might Dictate. To Collect Beautiful Things Was A Passion With Him, And 
 He Was Proud Of     The     Natural Taste And Instinct, Which Generally Led 
 Him Right. But For 'Aesthetics'--The Philosophy Of     Art--He Had Nothing 
 But Contempt. The     Volatile, Restless Mind Escaped at Once From The 
 Concentration Asked of     It; And Fell Back On What The     Buddhist Calls 
 'Maia,' The     Gay And Changing appearances Of     Things, Which Were All He 
 Wanted. And It Was Because The     War Had Interfered with This Pleasant 
 And Perpetual Challenge To The     Senses Of     The     Outer World, Because 
 It Forced a Man Back On General Ideas That He Did Not Want To 
 Consider--God, Country, Citizenship--That The     Squire Had Hated the 
 War. 
   
   
   
 But This Woman Who Had Become An Inmate Of     His House, While She 
 Ministered to All The     Tastes That The     Squire Had Built Up As A 
 Screen Between Himself And Either The     Tragic Facts Of     Contemporary 
 Life, Or Any Troublesome Philosophizing about Them, Was Yet 
 Gradually, Imperceptibly, Drawing the     Screen Aside. Her Humanity Was 
 Developing the     Feeble Shoots Of     Sympathy And Conscience In himself. 
 What She Felt, He Was Beginning to Feel; And When She Hated anything 
 He Must At Least Uncomfortably Consider Why. 
   
   
   
 But All This She Did And Achieved through Her Mere Fitness And 
 Delightfulness As A Companion. He Had Never Imagined that Life Would 
 Bring him Anybody--Least Of     All A Woman--Who Would Both Give Him So 
 Much, And Save Him So Much. Selfish, Exacting, Irritable--He Knew 
 Very Well That He Was All Three. But It Had Not Prevented this 
 Capable, Kind, Clever Creature From Devoting herself To Him, From 
 Doing her Utmost, Not Only To Save His Estate And His Income, But To 
 Make His Life Once More Agreeable To Him, In spite Of     The     War And 
 All The     Rancour And Resentments It Had Stirred up In him. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 11 Pg 206 
   
   
 How Patient She Had Been With These Last! He Was Actually Beginning 
 To Be Ashamed of     Some Of     Them. And Now To-Night--What Made Her Come 
 And Give Him The     Extra Pleasure Of     Her Company These Two Hours? 
 Sympathy, He Supposed, About Desmond. 
   
   
   
 Well, He Was Grateful; And For The     First Time His Heart Reached out 
 For Pity--Almost Humbled itself--Accepted the     Human Lot. If Desmond 
 Were Killed, He Would Never Choose To Go On Living. Did She Know 
 That? Was It Because She Guessed at The     Feelings He Had Always Done 
 His Best To Hide That She Had Been So Good To Him That Evening? 
   
   
   
 What As To That Love-Story Of     Hers--Her Family?--Her Brother In 
 Mesopotamia? He Began To Feel A Hundred curiosities About Her, And A 
 Strong Wish To Make Life Easy For Her, As She Had Been Making it 
 Easy For Him. But She Was Excessively Proud And Scrupulous--That He 
 Had Long Since Found Out. No Use Offering to Double Her Salary, Now 
 That She Had Saved him All This Money! His First Advance In that 
 Direction Had Merely Offended her. The     Squire Thought Vaguely Of     The 
 Brother--No Doubt A Young Lieutenant. Could Interest Be Made For 
 Him?--With Some Of     The     Bigwigs. Then His--Very Intermittent--Sense 
 Of Humour Asserted itself. He To Make Interest With Anybody--For 
 Anybody--In Connection With The     War! He, Who Had Broken With Every 
 Soldier-Friend He Ever Had, Because Of     His Opinions About The 
 War!--And Was Anathema Throughout The     Country For The     Same Reason. 
 Like All Members Of     Old Families In this Country He Had A Number Of 
 Aristocratic And Wealthy Kinsfolk, The     Result Of     Mannering marriages 
 In The     Past. But He Had Never Cared for Any Of     Them, Except To A 
 Mild Degree For His Sister, Lady Cassiobury, Who Was Ten Years Older 
 Than Himself, And Still Paid Long Visits To Mannering, Which Bored 
 Him Hugely. On The     Last Occasion, He Was Quite Aware That He Had 
 Behaved badly, And Was Now In her Black-Books. 
   
   
   
 No--There Was Nothing to Be Done, Except To Let This Wonderful Woman 
 Have Her Own Way! If She Wanted to Cut Down The     Woods, Let Her!--If 
 She Wanted to Amuse Herself By Rebuilding the     Village, And Could 
 Find The     Money Out Of     The     Estate, Let Her!--It Would Occupy Her, 
 Attach Her To The     Place, And Do Him No Harm. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 11 Pg 207 
 Yes, Attach Her To The     Place; Bind Her! Hold Her!--That Was What He 
 Wanted. Otherwise, How Hideously Uncertain It All Was! She Might Go 
 At Any Time. Her Mother Might Be Ill--Old Ladies Have A Way Of     Being 
 Ill. Her Brother Might Be Wounded--Or Killed. Either Of     Those Events 
 Would Carry Her Off--Out Of     His Ken. But If She Were Engaged deeply 
 Enough In the     Estate Affairs She Would Surely Come Back. He Knew 
 Her!--She Hated to Leave Things Unfinished. He Was Eager Now To Heap 
 All Kinds Of     Responsibilities Upon Her. He Would Be Meek And 
 Pliable; He Would Put No Sort Of     Obstacles In her Way. She Would 
 Have No Excuse For Giving him Notice Again. He Would Put Up With All 
 Her Silly Jingoism--If Only She Would Stay! 
   
   
   
 But At This Point The     Squire Suddenly Pulled up Short In his Pacing 
 And Excitedly Asked himself The     Question, Which Half The     People 
 About Him Were Already Beginning to Ask. 
   
   
   
 'Why Shouldn'T I Marry Her?' 
   
   
   
 He Stood Transfixed--The Colour Rising in his Thin Cheeks. 
   
   
   
 Hitherto The     Notion, If It Had Ever Knocked at The     Outer Door Of     The 
 Brain, Had Been Chased away With Mockery. And He Had No Sooner 
 Admitted it Now Than He Drove It Out Again. He Was Simply Afraid Of 
 It--In Terror Lest Any Suspicion Of     It Should Reach Elizabeth. Her 
 Loyalty, Her Single-Mindedness, Her Freedom From The     Smallest Taint 
 Of Intrigue--He Would Have Answered for Them With All He Possessed. 
 If, For A Moment, She Chose To Think That He Had Misinterpreted her 
 Kindness, Her Services In any Vile And Vulgar Way, Why, He Might 
 Lose Her On The     Instant! Let Him Walk Warily--Do Nothing at Least To 
 Destroy The     Friend In her, Before He Grasped at Anything more. 
   
   
   
 Besides, How Could She Put Up With Him? 'I Am The     Dried husk Of     A 
 Man!' Thought The     Squire, With Vehemence. 'I Couldn'T Learn Her Ways 
 Now, Nor She Mine. No; Let Us Be As We Are--Only More So!' 
   
   
   
 But He Was Shaken Through And Through; First By That Vanishing of 
 His Boy Into The     Furnace Of     The     War, Which Had Brought Him At Last 
 Within The     Grip Of     The     Common Grief, The     Common Fear, And Now By 
   
 This Strange Thought Which Had Invaded him. 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 11 Pg 208 
   
   
   
 After Dinner, Elizabeth, Who Was Rather Pale, But As Cheerful And 
 Self-Possessed as Usual, Put Mrs. Gaddesden'S Knitting to Rights At 
 Least Three Times, And Held The     Wool For That Lady To Wind Till Her 
 Arm Ached. Then Mrs. Gaddesden Retired to Bed; The     Squire, Who With 
 Only Occasional Mutterings And Mumblings Had Been Deep In 
 Elizabeth'S Copy Of     The     _Times_, Which She Had At Last Ventured to 
 Produce In public, Went Off To The     Library, And Elizabeth And Pamela 
 Were Left In the     Hall Alone. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Lingered over The     Fire; While Pamela Wondered impatiently 
 Why She Did Not Go To Her Office Work As She Generally Did About 
 Nine O'Clock. Pamela'S Mood Was More Thorny Than Ever. Had She Not 
 Seen A Letter In elizabeth'S Handwriting lying that Very Afternoon 
 On The     Hall-Table For Post--Addressed to Captain Chicksands, D.S.O., 
 War Office, Whitehall? Common Sense Told Her That It Probably 
 Contained nothing but An Answer To Some Questions Arthur Had Put To 
 The Squire'S 'Business Secretary' As To The     Amount Of     Ash In the 
 Squire'S Woods--Arthur'S Intelligence Appointment Having something 
 To Do With The     Air Board. 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. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 11 Pg 209 
   
   
 So That When Only She And Pamela Were Left In the     Hall She Went Up 
 To The     Girl, Not Without Agitation. 
   
   
   
 'Pamela--Won'T You Tell Me?--Have I Done Anything to Offend You And 
 Desmond?' 
   
   
   
 She Spoke Very Quietly, But Her Tone Showed her Wounded. Pamela 
 Started and Looked up. 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T Know What You Mean,' She Said Coldly. 'Did You Think We Had 
 Been Rude To You?' 
   
   
   
 It Was The     First Hostile Word They Had Ever Exchanged. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Grew Pale. 
   
   
   
 'I Didn'T Say Anything about Your Being rude. I Asked you If You 
 Were Cross With Me.' 
   
   
   
 'Oh--Cross!' Said Pamela, Suddenly Conscious Of     A Suffocating 
 Excitement. 'What'S The     Good Of     Being cross? It'S You Who Are 
 Mistress Here.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Fell Back A Step In dismay. 
   
   
   
 'I Do Think You Ought To Explain,' She Said After A Moment. 'If I 
 Had Done Anything you Didn'T Like--Anything you Thought Unkind, I 
 Should Be Very Very Sorry.' 
   
   
   
 Pamela Rose From Her Seat. Elizabeth'S Tone Seemed to Her Pure 
 Hypocrisy. All The     Bitter, Poisonous Stuff She Had Poured out To 
   
 Desmond The     Night Before Was Let Loose Again. Stammering and 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 11 Pg 210 
 Panting, She Broke Into The     Vaguest And Falsest Accusations. 
   
   
   
 She Was Ignored--She Was A Nobody In her Own Home--Everybody Knew 
 It And Talked of     It. She Wasn'T Jealous--Oh No!--She Was Simply 
 Miserable! 'Oh, I Daresay You Can No More Help It Than I Can. You, 
 Of Course, Are Twenty Times More Use Here Than I Am. I Don'T 
 Dispute That. But I Am The     Daughter Of     The     House After All, And It 
 Is A Little Hard To Be So Shelved--So Absolutely Put In the 
 Background!--As I Am--' 
   
   
   
 'Don'T I Consult You Whenever I Can? Haven'T I Done My Best To--' 
 Interrupted elizabeth, Only To Be Interrupted in her Turn. 
   
   
   
 --'To Persuade Father To Let Me Do Things? Yes, That'S Just 
 It!--_You_ Persuade Father, You Manage Everything. It'S Just That 
 That'S Intolerable!' 
   
   
   
 And Flushed with Passion, Extraordinarily Handsome, Pamela Stood 
 Tremulously Silent, Her Eyes Fixed on Elizabeth. Elizabeth, Too, Was 
 Silent For A Moment. Then She Said With Steady Emphasis: 
   
   
   
 'Of Course There Can Only Be One End To This. I Can'T Possibly Stay 
 Here.' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, Very Well, Go!' Cried pamela. 'Go, And Tell Father That I'Ve 
 Made You. But If You Do, Neither You Nor He Will See Me Again For A 
 Good While.' 
   
   
   
 'What Do You Mean?' 
   
   
   
 'What I Say. If You Suppose That _I'M_ Going to Stay On Here To Bear 
 The Brunt Of     Father'S Temper After He Knows That I'Ve Made You Throw 
 Up, You'Re Entirely Mistaken.' 
   
   
   
   
 'Then What Do You Propose?' 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 11 Pg 211 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T Know What I Propose,' Said Pamela, Shaking from Head To 
 Foot, 'But If You Say A Word To Father About It I Shall Simply 
 Disappear. I Shall Be Able To Earn My Own Living somehow.' 
   
   
   
 The Two Confronted each Other. 
   
   
   
 'And You Really Think I Can Go On After This As If Nothing had 
 Happened?' Said Elizabeth, In a Low Voice. 
   
   
   
 Pangs Of     Remorse Were Seizing on Pamela, But She Stifled them. 
   
   
   
 'There'S A Way Out!' She Said Presently, Her Colour Coming and 
 Going. 'I'Ll Go And Stay With Margaret In town For A Bit. Why Should 
 There Be Any Fuss? She'S Asked me Often To Help With Her 
 War-Workroom And The     Canteen. Father Won'T Mind. He Doesn'T Care In 
 The Least What I Do! And Nobody Will Think It A Bit Odd--If You And 
 I Don'T Talk.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Turned away. The     Touch Of     Scorn In her Bearing was Not 
 Lost On Pamela. 
   
   
   
 'And If I Refuse To Stay On, Without Saying or Doing anything--To 
 Put Myself Right--You Threaten To Run Away?' 
   
   
   
 'I Do--I Mean It,' Said Pamela Firmly. She Had Not Only Hardened 
 Again Under The     Sting of     That Contempt She Detected in elizabeth, 
 But There Was Rising up In her A Sudden And Rapturous Vision Of 
 London:--Arthur At The     War Office--Herself On Open Ground--No Longer 
 Interfered with And Over-Shadowed. He Would Come To See Her--Take 
 Her Out, Perhaps, Sometimes To An Exhibition, Or For A Walk. The 
 Suggestion Of     Going to Margaret Had Been Made On The     Spur Of     The 
 Moment Without After-Thought. She Was Now Wedded to It, Divining in 
 It A Hundred possibilities. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 11 Pg 212 
 At The     Same Moment She Became More Cautious, And More Ashamed of 
 Herself. It Would Be Better To Apologize. But Before She Could Speak 
 Elizabeth Said: 
   
   
   
 'Does Desmond Agree With What You Have Been Saying?' 
   
   
   
 Pamela Staring at Her Adversary Was A Little Frightened. She Rushed 
 Into A Falsehood. 
   
   
   
 'Desmond Knows Nothing about It! I Don'T Want Him Dragged in.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth'S Eyes, With Their Bitter, Wounded look; Seemed to Search 
 The Girl'S Inmost Mind. Then She Moved away. 
   
   
   
 'We Had Better Go To Bed. We Shall Both Want To Think It Over. 
 Good-Night.' 
   
   
   
 And From The     Darkness Of     The     Hall, Where Fire And Lamp Were Dying, 
 Pamela Half Spell-Bound, Watched the     Tall Figure Of     Elizabeth Slowly 
 Mounting the     Broad Staircase At The     Further End, The     Candle-Light 
 Flickering on Her Bright Hair, And On A Bunch Of     Snowdrops In her 
 Breast. 
   
   
   
 Then, For An Hour, While The     House Sank Into Silence, Pamela Sat 
 Crouched and Shivering by The     Only Log Left In the     Grate. 'A Little 
 While Ago,' She Was Thinking miserably, 'I Had Good Feelings And 
 Ideas--I Never Hated anybody. I Never Told Lies. I Suppose--I Shall 
 Get Worse And Worse.' 
   
   
   
 And When She Had Gone Wearily To Bed, It Was To Cry Herself To 
 Sleep. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 11 Pg 213 
 The Following morning, An Urgent Telegram From Her Younger Sister 
 Recalled elizabeth Bremerton To London, Where Her Mother'S Invalid 
 Condition Had Suddenly Taken A Disastrous Turn For The     Worse. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 12 Pg 214 
   
 'Hullo, Aubrey! What Brings You Here?' And With The     Words Arthur 
 Chicksands, Just Emerging from The     War Office, Stopped to Greet A 
 Brother Officer, Who Was Just Entering it. 
   
   
   
 'Nothing much. I Shan'T Be Long. Can You Wait A Bit?' 
   
   
   
 'Right You Are. I'Ve Got To Leave A Note At The     Ministry Of 
 Munitions, But I'Ll Be Back In a Few Minutes.' 
   
   
   
 Arthur Chicksands Went His Way To Whitehall Gardens, While Major 
 Mannering disappeared into The     Inner Regions Of     That Vast Building 
 Where Dwell The     Men On Whom Hang The     Fortunes Of     An Empire. Arthur 
 Walking fast Up Whitehall Was Very Little Aware Of     The     Scene About 
 Him. His Mind Was Occupied with The     Details Of     The     Interview In 
 Which He Had Just Been Engaged. His Promotion Had Lately Been Rapid, 
 And His Work Of     Extraordinary Interest. He Had Been Travelling a 
 Great Deal, Backwards And Forwards Between London And Versailles, 
 Charged with Several Special Enquiries In which He Had Shown Both 
 Steadiness And _Flair_. Things Were Known To Him That He Could Not 
 Share Even With A Friend So Old And 'Safe' As Aubrey Mannering. The 
 Grip Of     The     Coming crisis Was Upon Him, And He Seemed 'To Carry The 
 World In his Breast' 
   
   
   
   
 'Next Year--Next February--Where Shall We All Be?' The     Question Was 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 12 Pg 215 
 Automatically Suggested to Him By The     Sight Of     The     Green Buds Of     The 
 Lilac Trees In front Of     Whitehall Terrace. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, My Dear Susan!--Do Look At Those Trees!' 
   
   
   
 Chicksands, Startled from His Own Meditations, Looked up To See Two 
 Old Ladies Gazing with An Eager Interest At A Couple Of     Plane Trees, 
 Which Had Just Shed a Profusion Of     Bark And Stood White And Almost 
 Naked in the     Grey London Air. They Were Dear Old Ladies From Some 
 Distant Country-Side, With Bonnets And Fronts, And Reticules, As 
 Though They Had Just Walked out Of     _Cranford_, And After Gazing with 
 Close Attention At The     Plane Trees Near Them They Turned and Looked 
 At All The     Other Plane Trees In whitehall, Which Presented an 
 Equally Plucked and Peeled appearance. 
   
   
   
 Then The     One Addressed as Susan Laughed out--A Happy, Chuckling 
 Laugh. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, I See! My Dear Ellen, How Clever People Are Now! They'Re 
 _Camouflaged_--That'S What It Is--Can'T You See?--All The     Way Down, 
 Because Of     The     Raids!' 
   
   
   
 The Admiring fervour Of     The     Voice Was Too Much For Chicksands. He 
 Hurried past Them, Head Down, And Ran Up The     Steps Of     The     Ministry 
 Of Munitions. From That Point Of     Vantage He Turned, Shaken With 
 Amusement, To See The     Pair Advancing slowly Towards Westminster, 
 Their Old-Fashioned skirts Floating round Them, Still Pointing 
 Eagerly At The     Barkless Trees. Had They Come From Some Piny Region 
 Where The     Plane Is Not? Anyway The     Tension Of     The     Day Was Less. 
   
   
   
 He Repeated the     Tale To Aubrey Mannering a Few Minutes Later, When 
 They Had Turned together Into Birdcage Walk. But Aubrey Scarcely 
 Gave It The     Ghost Of     A Smile. As To His Old Friend'S Enquiries About 
 His Own Work And Plans, He Answered them Quite Readily, But Shortly, 
 Without Any Expansion; With The     Manner, Indeed, Of     One For Whom 
 Talk About Himself Had No Sort Of     Attraction. And As They Passed 
   
 Along The     Front Of     The     Barracks, Where A Few Men Were Drilling, 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 12 Pg 216 
 Chicksands, Struck By His Companion'S Silence, Turned a Sudden Look 
 Upon Him. Mannering'S Eyes Were Absently And Yet Intently Fixed on 
 The Small Squads Of     Drilling men. And It Was Sharply Borne In on 
 Chicksands That He Was Walking beside The     Mere Image Or Phantom Of     A 
 Man, A Man Whose Mind Was Far Away--'Voyaging through Strange Seas 
 Of Thought Alone.' Mannering'S Eyes Were Wide Open; But They Made 
 The Weird Impression On The     Spectator Of     A Double Seeing--Of Some 
 Object Of     Vision Beyond And Behind The     Actual Scene Of     The     Barracks 
 And The     Recruits, And That An Object Producing terror Or Pain. 
 Chicksands Made A Remark And It Was Not Answered. 
   
   
   
 It Was Not The     First Time That Arthur Had Observed this Trance-Like 
 State In the     Man Who Was To Be His Brother-In-Law, And Had Been His 
 'Chum' From Childhood. Others Had Noticed it, And He Had Reason To 
 Think That Beryl Was Often Distressed by It. He Had Never Himself 
 Seen Any Signs Of     Strangeness Or Depression In aubrey Before The 
 Easter Of     1915, When They Met In paris, For The     First Time After The 
 Battle Of     Neuve Chapelle, In which Mannering had Lost His Dearest 
 Friend, One Freddy Vivian, Of     The     Worcesters. During the     Winter They 
 Had Met Fairly Often In the     Neighbourhood Of     Ypres, And Aubrey Was 
 Then The     Same Eager, Impulsive Fellow That Chicksands Had Known At 
 Eton And Cambridge, Bubbling over With The     Exploits Of     His 
 Battalion, And Adored by His Own Men. In april, In a Raid Near 
 Festubert, Mannering was Badly Wounded. But The     Change In him Was 
 Already Evident When They Were In paris Together. Chicksands Could 
 Only Suppose It Represented the     Mental And Nervous Depression Caused 
 By Vivian'S Death, And Would Pass Away. On The     Contrary, It Had 
 Proved to Be Something permanent. 
   
   
   
 Yet It Had Never Interfered with His Efficiency As A Soldier, Nor 
 His Record For A Dare-Devil Courage. There Were Many Tales Current 
 Of His Exploits On The     Somme, In which Again And Again He Had Singed 
 The Beard Of     Death, With An Absolute Recklessness Of     His Own 
 Personal Life, Combined with The     Most Anxious Care For That Of     His 
 Men. Since The     Battle Of     Messines He Had Been The     Head Of     A 
 Remarkable Officers' School At Aldershot, Mainly Organized by 
 Himself. But Now, It Seemed, He Was Moving heaven And Earth To Get 
 Back To France And The     Front. Chicksands Did Not Think He Would 
 Achieve It. He Was Invaluable Where He Was, And His Superiors, To 
 Mannering'S Indignation, Were Inclined to Regard Him As A Man Who 
 Was Physically Fit Rather For Home Service Than The     Front. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 12 Pg 217 
   
 When They Reached the     Buckingham Palace End Of     The     Walk, Mannering 
 Paused. 
   
   
   
 'Where Are You Lunching?' 
   
   
   
 'At Brooks', With My Father.' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, Then I'Ll Walk There With You.' 
   
   
   
 They Struck Across The     Park, And Talk Fell On A Recent Small 
 Set-Back Which Had Happened to A Regiment With Which They Were Both 
 Well Acquainted. 
   
   
   
 Chicksands Shrugged his Shoulders. 
   
   
   
 'I'Ve Heard Some Details At The     War Office. Just Ten Minutes' Rot! 
 The Colonel Stopped it With His Revolver. Most Of     Them Splendid 
 Fellows. Two Young Subs Gave Way Under A Terrific Shelling and Their 
 Men With Them. And In ten Minutes They Were All Rushing forward 
 Again, Straight Through The     Barrage--And The     Two Lieutenants Were 
 Killed.' 
   
   
   
 'My God!--Lucky Fellows!' Cried mannering, Under His Breath, With A 
 Passion And Suddenness That Struck Astonishment Into His Companion. 
   
   
   
 'Well, Yes,' Said Arthur, 'In A Sense--But--Nothing would Have 
 Happened to Them. They Had Wiped it Out.' 
   
   
   
 Mannering shook His Head. Then With A Great And Evident Effort He 
 Changed the     Conversation. 
   
   
   
   
 'You Know Pamela'S In town?' 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 12 Pg 218 
   
   
   
 'Yes, With Margaret Strang. I'M Going to Dine There To-Night. How'S 
 The New Agent Getting on?' 
   
   
   
 Aubrey Smiled. 
   
   
   
 'Which?--The Man--Or The     Lady?' 
   
   
   
 'Miss Bremerton, Of     Course. I Got A Most Interesting letter From Her 
 A Fortnight Ago. Do You Know That She Herself Has Discovered nearly 
 A Thousand Ash In the     Squire'S Woods, After That Old Idiot Hull Had 
 Told Her She Wouldn'T Find Half-A-Dozen? A Thousand Ash Is Not To Be 
 Sneezed at In these Days! I Happen To Know That The     Air Board Wrote 
 The Squire A Very Civil Letter.' 
   
   
   
 '"All Along Of     Eliza!"' Mused mannering. 'She'S Been Away From 
 Mannering just Lately. Her Invalid Mother Became Very Seriously Ill 
 About Three Weeks Ago, And She Had To Go Home For A Time. My Father, 
 Of Course, Has Been Fussing and Fuming to Get Her Back.' 
   
   
   
 'Poor Squire! But How Could Pamela Be Spared too?' 
   
   
   
 Mannering hesitated. 
   
   
   
 'Well, The     Fact Is She And My Father Seem To Have Had A Good 
 Old-Fashioned row. She Tried to Fill Miss Bremerton'S Place, And Of 
 Course It Didn'T Answer. She'S Too Young, And My Father Too 
 Exacting. Then When It Broke Down, And He Took Things Out Of     Her 
 Hands Again, Comparing her, Of     Course, Enormously To Her 
 Disadvantage With Miss Bremerton, Pamela Lost Her Temper And Said 
 Foolish Things Of     Miss Bremerton. Whereupon Fury On My Father'S 
 Part--And Sudden Departure On Pamela'S. She Actually Bicycled off To 
 The Railway Station, Sent A Telegram For Her Things, And Came Up To 
 Margaret. Alice Gaddesden Is Looking after Father. But Of     Course He 
 And She Don'T Get On A Bit.' 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 12 Pg 219 
 The Captain Looked much Concerned. 
   
   
   
 'It'S A Pity Pamela Takes That Line--Don'T You Think? I Really Don'T 
 See The     Conspirator In miss Bremerton. I Hoped when I Saw Her First 
 She Would Make Just All The     Difference To Pamela.' 
   
   
   
 'Yes, It'S Puzzling. I Ran Down To See My Father, Who Was In a Rabid 
 State Of     Mind, Not Knowing what To Do With All The     Schemes And 
 Business This Clever Woman Started--Perfectly Lost Without Her.' 
   
   
   
 'Ah, That'S The     Worst Of     Your Indispensable!' Laughed chicksands. 
   
   
   
 Mannering threw Him A Quick, Scrutinizing look. Various Items Of 
 Information Picked up At Mannering, Mostly From His Sister Alice, 
 Had Made Him Wonder Whether Some Jealousy Of     A More Vital And 
 Intimate Kind Than Appeared might Not Be At The     Root Of     Pamela'S 
 Behaviour. He Was Not Observant At This Period Of     His Life, Except 
 Of Things Relating to His Engagement To Beryl, His Work, Or Those 
 Inner Pre-Occupations Which Held Him. But It Had Once Or Twice 
 Crossed his Mind That Pamela Might Be Interested in arthur; And 
 There Had Been Certain Hints From Beryl, Who Was, However, He Was 
 Certain, Scarcely Better Informed than He Was. Pamela Was A Most 
 Secretive And Independent Young Woman. He Doubted whether Even 
 Desmond, Whom She Adored, Knew Much About Her. 
   
   
   
 Well, Supposing she Was Jealous--Jealous Of     Her Father'S Secretary, 
 And On Account Of     Arthur, Was There The     Smallest Cause For It? He 
 Understood That Arthur And Miss Bremerton Had Met Occasionally, And 
 He Had Himself Heard Chicksands Express The     Warmest Admiration For 
 Her As The     Right Sort Of     New Woman, 'As Straight As You Make 
 'Em'--And With 'A Brain Like A Man'--Which, From One Who Was Always 
 Rather A Critical Spectator Than A Courtier Of     Women, Was High 
 Praise. But As For Any Spark Of     Sex In it--Mannering laughed at The 
 Notion. No. If That Really Was Pamela'S Delusion, Something must Be 
 Done To Rid His Little Sister Of     It If Possible. He Would Talk To 
 Beryl. 
   
   
   
 But--As Always When Any New Responsibility Presented itself To 
 Him--A Deep Inner Weariness Rebelled. In small Things As In great, 
 He Was Mentally Like A Man Walking and Working with A Broken Limb. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 12 Pg 220 
   
   
 Arthur Chicksands Stood Some Time That Evening waiting on The 
 Doorstep Of     Mrs. Strang'S Small House, In one Of     The     Old Streets Of 
 Westminster. 'No Servants, I Suppose,' He Said To Himself With 
 Resignation. But It Was Bitterly Cold, And He Was Relieved to Hear 
 At Last The     Sound Of     A Voice And A Girl'S Laugh Inside. Pamela 
 Opened the     Door To Him, Pulling down The     Sleeves Of     A Thin Black 
 Dress Over Her Shapely Arms. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, Come In. Margaret'S Cooking the     Dinner, And I'Ve Laid The 
 Table. Bernard'S Just Bringing up Some Coals, And Then We'Re Ready.' 
   
   
   
 Mr. Bernard Strang, A Distinguished home Office Official, Appeared 
 At That Moment In his Shirt-Sleeves At The     Head Of     The     Kitchen 
 Stairs, Bearing a Scuttle Of     Coal In each Hand. 
   
   
   
 'Gracious! Give Me One Of     Them!' Said The     Captain, Hurrying to The 
 Rescue. 
   
   
   
 But Mr. Strang, Putting down The     Right-Hand Scuttle, To Take Breath, 
 Warned him Off. 
   
   
   
 'Thank You, Chicksands--But No Brass Hats Need apply! Many 
 Thanks--But You'Re Too Smart!' He Pointed, Panting, To The     Red tabs 
 And To The     Bit Of     Variegated ribbon On Chicksands' Broad Chest. 'Go 
 And Help Pamela Bring in the     Dinner.' 
   
   
   
 The Captain Obeyed with Alacrity. 
   
   
   
 'All The     Servants Left On Monday,' Said Pamela. 'We Had A Charwoman 
   
 This Morning, But She'S Gone To-Night, Because There'S A New Moon.' 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 12 Pg 221 
   
   
   
 'What--Raids?' 
   
   
   
 Pamela Nodded as She Gave Him The     Soup, With Instructions To Carry 
 It Carefully And Put It By The     Fire. She Seemed to Be In her Gayest 
 Mood, And Chicksands' Eyes Followed her Perpetually As She Went 
 Backwards And Forwards On Her Household Tasks. Presently Mrs. Strang 
 Appeared, Crimson From The     Fire, Bearing the     Fishpie And Vegetables 
 That Were To Provide The     Rationed meal. 
   
   
   
 'To Think,' Said Mr. Strang, When They Were At Last At Table, 'That 
 There Was A Time When We Were Proud Of     Our "Little Dinners," And 
 That I Never Made Myself Unpleasant Unless Margaret Spent More Than 
 Five Pounds On The     Food Alone. Shall I Ever Eat A Good Dinner 
 Again?' 
   
   
   
 He Looked wistfully At The     Bare Table. 
   
   
   
 'Will You Ever Want To?' Said Arthur, Quietly. 
   
   
   
 A Momentary Silence Fell Upon The     Little Party. Bernard Strang Had 
 Lost Two Brothers In the     War, And Chicksands Had No Sooner Spoken 
 Than He Reproached himself For A Tactless Brute. But, Suddenly, The 
 Bells Of     The     Abbey Rang: Out Above Their Heads, Playing with Every 
 Stroke On The     Nerves Of     The     Listeners. For The     Voice Of     England Was 
 In Them, Speaking to That Under-Consciousness Which The     War Has 
 Developed in us All. 
   
   
   
 'Any News?' Said Strang, Looking at Arthur. 
   
   
   
 'No. The     Eastern Business Gets A Little Worse Every Day.' 
   
   
   
   
 'And The     "Offensive"? 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 12 Pg 222 
   
   
   
 'Let Them! Our Men Want Nothing better.' 
   
   
   
 On Which The     Dinner Resolved itself Into A Device For Making the 
 Captain Talk. The     War Office Crisis, The     Men Gathered in conclave At 
 Versailles, And That Perpetual Friction Between The     Politician And 
 The Soldier, Which Every War, Big Or Little, Brings To The     Front, 
 And Which Will Only End When War Ends--Those Were The     Topics Of     It, 
 With Other Talk Such As Women Like To Listen To Of     Men About 
 Individual Men, Shrewd, Careless, Critical, Strangely Damning here, 
 Strangely Indulgent There, Constant Only In one Quality--That It Is 
 The Talk Of     Men And Even If One Heard It Behind A Curtain And 
 Strained through Distance, Could Never By Any Chance Be Mistaken For 
 The Talk Of     Women. 
   
   
   
 At Intervals Pamela Got Up To Change The     Plates And The     Dishes, 
 Quieting with A Peremptory Gesture The     Two Males, Who Would Spring 
 To Their Feet. 'Haven'T I Done Parlour-Work For Six Months?--No 
 Amateurs, Please!' And Again, Even While He Talked on, Arthur'S Eyes 
 Would Stray After The     Young Full Figure, The     White Neck And Throat, 
 The Head With The     Soft Hair Folded close Around It In wavy Bands 
 That Followed all Its Lines--As It Might Have Been The     Head Of     One 
 Of Those Terra-Cottas That Her Father Had Stolen From The     Greek 
 Tombs In his Youth. 
   
   
   
 But Unfortunately, After Dinner, In a Corner Of     The     Dark 
 Drawing-Room, He Must Needs Try And Play The     Schoolmaster A Little, 
 For Her Good Of     Course; And Then All Went To Pieces. 
   
   
   
 'I Hear You Ran Away!' 
   
   
   
 The Voice That Threw Out This Sudden Challenge Was Half Ironical, 
 Half Affectionate; The     Grey Eyes Under Their Strong Black Brows 
 Looked at Her With Amusement. 
   
   
   
   
 Pamela Flushed at Once. 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 12 Pg 223 
   
   
 'Aubrey Told You, I Suppose? What Was The     Good Of     Staying? I 
 Couldn'T Do Anything right. I Was Only Making things Worse.' 
   
   
   
 'I Can Hardly Believe That! Couldn'T You Just Have Kept Miss 
 Bremerton'S Work Going till She Came Back?' 
   
   
   
 'I Tried,' Said Pamela Stiffly, 'And It Didn'T Do.' 
   
   
   
 'Perhaps She Attempts Too Much. But She Seemed to Me To Be Very 
 Sensible And Human. And--Did You Hear About The     Ash Trees?' 
   
   
   
 'No,' Said Pamela Shortly, Her Foot Nervously Beating the     Ground. 
 'It Doesn'T Matter. Of     Course I Know She'S The     Cleverest Person 
 Going. But I Can'T Get On With Her--That'S All! I'M Going to Take Up 
 Nursing--Properly. I'M Making enquiries About The     London Hospital. I 
 Want To Be A Real Army Nurse.' 
   
   
   
 'Will Your Father Consent?' 
   
   
   
 'Fathers Can'T Stop Their Daughters From Doing things--As They Used 
 To Do!' Said Pamela, With Her Chin In the     Air. 
   
   
   
 She Had Moved away From Him; Her Soft Gaiety Had Disappeared; He 
 Felt Her All Thorns. Yet Some Perversity Made Him Try To Argue With 
 Her. The     War--Pray The     Lord!--Might Be Over Before Her Training as 
 An Army Nurse Was Half Done. Meanwhile, Her V.A.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. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 12 Pg 224 
   
 '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. 
   
   
   
 But Even Then A Normally Tactful Man Still Held On. 
   
   
   
 Never Was Anything more Maladroit. It Was The     Stupidity Of     A Clever 
 Fellow, Deluding himself With The     Notion That Having refused the 
 Rôle Of     Lover, He Could At Least Play That Of     Guardian And Adviser; 
 Whose Conscience, Moreover, Was So Absolutely Clear On The     Subject 
 Of Elizabeth Bremerton That He Did Not Even Begin To Suspect What 
 Was Rankling in the     Girl'S Morbid Sense. 
   
   
   
 The Relation Between Them Accordingly Went From Bad To Worse; And 
 When Pamela Rose And Sharply Put An End To Their Private 
 Conversation, The     Evening would Have Practically Ended in a Quarrel 
 But For Some Final Saving instinct On Chicksands' Part, Which Made 
 Him Mention Desmond As He Bade Her Good-Night. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 12 Pg 225 
   
   
 'I Could Tell You Where He Is,' He Said Gravely. 'Only I Mustn'T. I 
 Had A Note From Him Yesterday--The Dear Old Boy! He Wrote In the 
 Highest Spirits. His Colonel Was "Ripping," And His Men, Of     Course, 
 The Best In the     Whole Battery.' 
   
   
   
 'If You Get Any News--Ever--Before We Do,' Said Pamela, Suddenly 
 Choking, 'You'Ll Tell Us At Once?' 
   
   
   
 'Trust Me. He'S Never Out Of     My Mind.' 
   
   
   
 On That Her Good-Night Was Less Cold Than It Would Have Been Five 
 Minutes Before. But He Walked home Through The     Moonlit Streets Both 
 Puzzled and Distressed--Till He Reached his Club In pall Mall, Where 
 The News Coming through On The     Tape Quickly Drove Everything out Of 
 His Soldier'S Mind But The     War. 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Gaddesden Was Sitting as Usual In the     Hall At Mannering. A Mild 
 February Was Nearly Out. It Would Be The     First Of     March On The 
 Morrow. 
   
   
   
 Every Moment She Expected to Hear The     Fallerton Taxi Draw Up At The 
 Front Door--Bringing elizabeth Bremerton Back To Mannering. She Had 
 Been Away More Than A Month. Mrs. Gaddesden Went Back In thought To 
 The Morning when It Had Been Announced to The     Squire By His Pale And 
 Anxious Secretary That She Had Had Bad News Of     Her Invalid Mother, 
 And Must Go Home At Once. The     Squire--His Daughter Could Not Deny 
 It--Had Behaved abominably. But Of     All Of     His Fume And Fret, His 
 Unreasonable Complaints And Selfish Attempts To Make Her Fix The 
 Very Day And Hour Of     Her Return, Elizabeth Had Taken No Notice. Go 
 She Would, At Once; And She Would Make No Promises As To The     Exact 
 Date Of     Her Return. But On The     Morning before She Went She Had 
 Worked superhumanly To Put Things In order, Whether For Her Typist, 
 Or Captain Dell, Or Pamela, Who Must At Least Take Over The 
 Housekeeping. The     Relations Between Her And Miss Bremerton That 
 Morning had Struck Mrs. Gaddesden As Odd--Certainly Not Cordial. But 
 There Was Nothing to Complain Of     In pamela'S Conduct. She Would Do 
 Her Best, She Said, And Sat Listening while Elizabeth Gave Her 
   
 Instructions About Food Cards, And Servants, And The     Rest. 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 12 Pg 226 
   
   
 Then, When The     Taxi Had Driven Away With The     Dictator, What Temper 
 On The     Squire'S Part! Mrs. Gaddesden Had Very Nearly Gone Home To 
 London--But For The     Fact Of     Raids, And The     Fact That Two Of     Her Most 
 Necessary Servants Had Joined the     W.A.A.C.'S. Pamela, On The     Other 
 Hand, Had Gone Singing about The     House. And Really The     Child Had 
 Done Her Best. But How Could Any One Expect Her To Manage Her Father 
 And The     House, Especially On The     Scraps Of     Time Left Her By Her 
 V.A.D. Work? The     Squire Had Been Like A Fractious Child Over The 
 Compulsory Rations. Nobody Was Less Of     A Glutton--He Pecked like A 
 Bird; But The     Proper Food To Peck At Must Be Always There, Or His 
 Temper Was Unbearable. Pamela Made Various Blunders; The     Household 
 Knew Hunger For The     First Time; And The     Servants Began To Give 
 Warning. Captain Dell Could Do Nothing with His Employer, And The 
 Timber Business Was Hung Up. 
   
   
   
 Then Came Pamela'S Outbreak After A Tirade From The     Squire Bitterly 
 Contrasting his Lost Secretary'S Performances, In every Particular, 
 With Those Of     His Daughter. The     Child Had Disappeared, And A Message 
 From The     Station Was All That Remained of     Her. Well, Who Could 
 Wonder? Mrs. Gaddesden Reflected, With Some Complacency, That Even 
 She Had Spoken Her Mind To Her Father That Night, Conveniently 
 Forgetting some Annoying retorts Of     His About Herself, And The 
 Custom She Had Developed of     Sitting for Hours Over The     Fire 
 Pretending to Knit, But Really Doing nothing. After Her Enormous 
 Exertions In the     Cause Of     The     War--She Was Accustomed to Say--Of The 
 Year Before, She Was In need of     A Rest. She Was Certainly Taking it. 
 Since Pamela Left, Indeed, She Had Been Obliged to Do The 
 Housekeeping, And Considered it Very Hard Work. She Had Never Yet 
 Been Able To Calculate The     Food Coupons Correctly. 
   
   
   
 So She, Like All The     Rest, Was Looking eagerly For Elizabeth. 
   
   
   
 Yes!--That Was The     Cracked horn Of     The     Village Taxi. Mrs. Gaddesden 
 Poked the     Fire With Energy And Rang For Forest. But His Quick Ears 
 Had Heard The     Signal Before Hers, And He Was Already Hurrying 
 Through The     Hall To The     Front Door. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 12 Pg 227 
   
 And There Was The     Library Door Opening, So Her Father Too Had Been 
 On The     Watch. Voices In the     Vestibule, And As The     Outer Door Of     The 
 Hall Opened, The     Squire Appeared at The     Further End. Alice Gaddesden 
 Had An Odd Feeling that Something important--Decisive--Was Going to 
 Happen. 
   
   
   
 Yet Nothing could Have Been More Unassuming than Elizabeth'S Entry. 
 It Was Evident, Indeed, That Forest Was Overjoyed to See Her. He 
 Shouldered her Modest Boxes And Bags With A Will, And A Housemaid, 
 All Smiles, Came Running half Way Downstairs To Take Some Of     His 
 Burden From Him. Elizabeth Followed the     Butler And Took Mrs. 
 Gaddesden'S Hand. 
   
   
   
 'My Train Was Late. I Hope You'Ve Not Waited tea?' 
   
   
   
 'Why, Of     Course We Have,' Said The     Squire'S Voice. 'Forest!--Tea At 
 Once.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth, Not Having perceived his Approach In the     Dimness Of     The 
 February Twilight, Turned with A Start To Greet The     Squire. He 
 Looked, To Her Eyes, Lankier And Thinner And Queerer Than Ever. But 
 It Was A Distinguished queerness. Elizabeth Had Forgotten That The 
 Brow And Eyes Were So Fine, And The     Hair So Glistening white. The 
 Large Nose And Small Captious Chin Passed unnoticed. She Was 
 Astonished at Her Own Throb Of     Pleasure In seeing her Employer 
 Again. 
   
   
   
 His Pleasure Was Boisterously Evident, Though Presently He Showed it 
 In His Usual Way By Attacking her. But First Mrs. Gaddesden Made The 
 Proper Enquiries After Elizabeth'S Invalid Mother. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth, Looking extremely Tired as She Sat By The     Fire, In the 
 Chair Which The     Squire--Most Unwonted attention!--Had Drawn Up For 
 Her, Said That Her Mother Was Better, And Volunteered nothing 
 Further. The     Squire, Meanwhile, Had Observed her Looks, And Was 
 Chafing inwardly Against Invalid Relations Who Made Unjust Claims 
   
 Upon Their Kith And Kin And Monstrously Insisted on Being nursed by 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 12 Pg 228 
 Them. But He Had The     Sense To Hold His Tongue, And Even To Profess A 
 Decent Sympathy. 
   
   
   
 Then, Without Any Further Preamble, He Plunged into His Own Affairs. 
   
   
   
 'Everything'S Gone To Rack And Ruin Since You Left,' He Said 
 Vehemently. 'Of Course You Knew It Would!' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth'S Eyebrows Lifted. The     Look, Half Tolerant, Half Amused, 
 With Which She Greeted sallies Of     This Kind Was One Of     Her 
 Attractions For The     Squire. 
   
   
   
 'What'S Captain Dell Been Doing?' She Inquired. 
   
   
   
 'Marking time!' Was The     Testy Reply. 'He'S Been No Good By 
 Himself--I Knew He Wouldn'T Be--No More Use Than Old Hull.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth'S Expression Showed her Sceptical. 
   
   
   
 'And The     Timber?' 
   
   
   
 'Just Where You Left It. The     Rascally Fellows Want All Sorts Of 
 Conditions. You May Accept Them If You Like--I Won'T. But I Told 
 Them We'D Meet Them In the     Woods To-Morrow--You, And Dell And I. And 
 Chicksands, Who Likes Poking his Nose Into Everything, Is Coming 
 Too.' 
   
   
   
 'Sir Henry?' Asked elizabeth In astonishment. 
   
   
   
 'Well, I Thought You Might Like The     Old Boy'S Opinion, So I Rang Him 
 Up On That Horrid Thing you'Ve Put Into The     Office. I Don'T Care 
 About His Opinion In the     Least!' 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 12 Pg 229 
   
 A Treat Arranged for Her Return! Elizabeth Felt As If She Were Being 
 Offered sir Henry'S Head On A Charger. 
   
   
   
 'That Will Be A Great Help!' She Said With Rather Artificial 
 Enthusiasm, At Which The     Squire Only Shrugged his Shoulders. 'Has 
 Sir Henry Been Over Here--' 
   
   
   
 'While You'Ve Been Away? Nothing of     The     Sort. He'S Not Crossed the 
 Threshold Since I Turned him Out Six Months Ago. But He'S Coming all 
 The Same--As Mild As Milk.' 
   
   
   
 'Very Good Of     Him!' Said Elizabeth With Spirit. 
   
   
   
 'That'S As You Choose To Look At It. And As To Everything else--' 
   
   
   
 'The Catalogue?' 
   
   
   
 'Gone To The     Crows!' Said The     Squire Gloomily. 'Levasseur Took Some 
 References To Look Out Last Week, And Made Twenty Mistakes In as 
 Many Lines. He'S Off!' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Removed her Hat And Pressed her Hands To Her Eyes, Half 
 Laughing, Half Aghast. Never Had Anything been More Welcome To The 
 Squire Than The     Sheen Of     Her Hair In the     Semi-Darkness. Mrs. 
 Gaddesden Had Once Annoyed him By Calling it Red. 
   
   
   
 'And The     Farms?' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, That I Leave You To Find Out. I Shovelled all The     Letters On To 
 Your Table, Just As Pamela Left Them.' 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 12 Pg 230 
 'Pamela!' Said Elizabeth, Looking up. 'But Where Is She?' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Held His Peace. Mrs. Gaddesden Drily Observed that She 
 Was Staying with Mrs. Strang In town. A Bright Colour Spread In 
 Elizabeth'S Cheeks And She Fell Silent, Staring into The     Fire. 
   
   
   
 'Hadn'T You Better Take Your Things Off?' Said Mrs. Gaddesden. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Rose. As She Passed the     Squire, He Said Gruffly: 
   
   
   
 'Of Course You'Re Not Ready For Any Greek Before Dinner?' 
   
   
   
 She Smiled. 'But Of     Course I Am. I'Ll Be Down Directly.' 
   
   
   
 In A Few More Minutes She Was Standing alone In her Room. The 
 Housemaid, Of     Her Own Accord, Had Lit A Fire, And Had Gathered some 
 Snowdrops For The     Dressing table. Elizabeth'S Bags Had Been Already 
 Unpacked, And All Her Small Possessions Had Been Arranged just As 
 She Liked them. 
   
   
   
 'They Spoil Me,' She Thought, Half Pleased, Half Shrinking. 'But Why 
 Am I Here? Why Have I Come Back? And What Do I Mean To Do?' 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 13 Pg 231 
   
 These Questions--'Why Did I Come Back?--What Am I Going to Do?' Were 
 Still Ringing through Elizabeth'S Mind When, On The     Evening of     Her 
 Return, She Entered the     Library To Find The     Squire Eagerly Waiting 
 For Her. 
   
   
   
 But The     Spectacle Presented by The     Room Quickly Drove Out Other 
 Matters. She Stood Aghast At The     Disorder Which Three Weeks Of     The 
 Squire'S Management Had Brought About. Books On The     Floor And Piled 
 On The     Chairs--A Dusty Confusion Of     Papers Everywhere--Drawers Open 
 And Untidy--Her Reign Of     Law Seemed to Have Been Wiped out. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, What A _Dreadful_ Muddle!' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Looked about Him--Abashed. 
   
   
   
 'Yes, It'S Awful--It'S All That Fellow Levasseur. I Ought To Have 
 Turned him Out Sooner. He'S The     Most Helpless, Incompetent Idiot. 
 But It Won'T Take You Very Long To Get Straight? I'Ll Do Anything 
 You Tell Me.' 
   
   
   
 He Watched her Face Appealingly, Like A Boy In a Scrape. Elizabeth 
 Shook Her Head. 
   
   
   
 'It'Ll Take Me A Full Day. But Never Mind; We Need not Begin 
 To-Night.' 
   
   
   
 'No, We Won'T Begin To-Night!' Said The     Squire Emphatically. 
 'There!--I'Ve Found A Chair For You. Is That Fire As You Like It?' 
   
   
   
 What Astonishing amiability! The     Attack Of     Nerves Which Had Assailed 
 Elizabeth Upstairs Began To Disappear. She Took The     Chair The     Squire 
 Offered her, Cleared a Small Table, And Produced from The 
 Despatch-Box She Had Brought Into The     Room With Her A Writing-Block 
 And A Fountain-Pen. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 13 Pg 232 
 'Do You Want To Dictate Anything?' 
   
   
   
 'Not At All!' Said The     Squire. 'I'Ve Got Nothing ready For 
 Dictating. The     Work I Have Done During your Absence I Shall Probably 
 Tear Up.' 
   
   
   
 'But I Thought--' 
   
   
   
 'Well, I Daresay--But Can'T A Man Change His Mind? Greek Be Hanged!' 
 Thundered the     Impatient Voice. 'I Want Some Conversation With 
 You--If You Will Allow Me?' 
   
   
   
 The Last Words Slipped awkwardly Into Another Note. It Was As Though 
 A Man Should Exchange The     Trombone For The     Flute. Elizabeth Held Her 
 Peace; But Her Pulse Was Beginning to Quicken. 
   
   
   
 'The Fact Is,' Said The     Squire, 'I Have Been Thinking over A Good 
 Many Things--In The     Last Hour.' Then He Turned upon Her Abruptly. 
 'What Was That You Were Saying to Alice In the     Hall Just Now, About 
 Moving your Mother Into Better Rooms?' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth'S Parted lips Showed her Surprise. 
   
   
   
 'We Do Want Better Rooms For Her,' She Said Hesitatingly, After A 
 Moment. 'My Sister Joan, Who Is At Home Just Now, Is Looking out. 
 But They Are Not Easy To Find.' 
   
   
   
 'Don'T Look Out!' Said The     Squire Impetuously. 'I Have A Better Plan 
 To Propose To You. In these Horrible Days People Must Co-Operate And 
 Combine. I Know Many Instances Of     Families Sharing a House--And 
 Servants. Beastly, I Admit, In the     Case Of     A Small House. One Runs 
 Up Against People--And Then One Hates Them. I Do! But In the     Case Of 
 A Large House It Is Different. Now, What Do You Say To This? Bring 
 Your Mother Here!' 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 13 Pg 233 
   
 'Bring--My Mother--Here?' Repeated elizabeth Stupidly. 'I Don'T 
 Understand.' 
   
   
   
 'It'S Very Simple.' The     Squire Stood Over Her, His Thumbs In his 
 Waistcoat Pockets, His Eyes All Vivacity. 'This Is A Big House--An 
 Old Barn, If You Like, But Big Enough. Your Mother Might Have The 
 Whole Of     The     East Wing--Which Looks South--If She Pleased; And 
 Neither She Nor I Need ever Come In each Other'S Way, Any More Than 
 People Who Have Flats In the     Same Building. I Heard You Say She Had 
 A Nurse. Well, There Would Be The     Nurse--And Another Servant 
 Perhaps. And The     Housekeeping could Be In common. Now Do Consider 
 It. Be Reasonable! Don'T Mock At It, Because It Isn'T Your Own 
 Plan,' Said The     Squire Severely, Perceiving the     Smile, Which She 
 Could Not Repress, Spreading over Elizabeth'S Countenance. 
   
   
   
 'It'S Awfully Good Of     You!' She Began Warmly--'But--' 
   
   
   
 'But What?' 
   
   
   
 Then Elizabeth'S Smile Vanished, And Instead He Saw A Dimness In the 
 Clear Blue Eyes. 
   
   
   
 'My Poor Little Mother Is Too Ill--Much Too Ill--' She Said In a Low 
 Voice. 'She May Live A Good While Yet; But Her Mind Is No Longer 
 Clear.' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Was Checked. This Possible Aspect Of     The     Case Had Not 
 Occurred to Him. But He Was Not To Be Defeated. 
   
   
   
 'If You Can Move Her From One House To Another, Surely You Could 
 Move Her Here--In An Invalid Motor? It Would Only Take An Hour And A 
 Half.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Shook Her Head Quietly, But Decidedly. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 13 Pg 234 
 'Thank You, But I Am Afraid It Is Impossible. She Couldn'T Take The 
 Journey, And--No, Indeed, It Is Out Of     The     Question!' 
   
   
   
 'Will You Ask Your Doctor?' Said The     Squire Obstinately. 
   
   
   
 'I Know What He Would Say. Please Don'T Think Of     It, Mr. Mannering. 
 It'S Very, Very Good Of     You.' 
   
   
   
 'It'S Not The     Least Good,' Said The     Squire Roughly. 'It'S Sheer, 
 Naked self-Interest. If You'Re Not At Ease About Your Mother, You'Ll 
 Be Throwing up Your Work Here Again Some Day, For Good, And That'Ll 
 Be Death And Damnation!' 
   
   
   
 He Turned frowning away, And Threw Himself Into A Chair By The     Fire. 
   
   
   
 So The     Murder Was Out. Elizabeth Must Needs Laugh. But This Clumsy 
 Way Of     Showing her That She Was Indispensable Not Only Touched her 
 Feeling, But Roused up The     Swarm Of     Perplexities Which Had Buzzed 
 Around Her Ever Since Her Summons To Her Mother'S Bedside On The 
 Morning after Her Scene With Pamela. And Again She Asked herself, 
 'Why Did I Come Back? And What Am I Going to Do?' 
   
   
   
 She Looked in doubt At The     Fuming gentleman By The     Fire, And 
 Suddenly Conscience Bade Her Be Frank. 
   
   
   
 'I Would Like To Stay Here, Mr. Mannering, And Go On With My Work. I 
 Have Told You So Before. I Will Stay--As Long As I Can. But I 
 Mustn'T Burn My Boats. I Mustn'T Stay Indefinitely. I Have Come To 
 See That Would Not Be Fair--' 
   
   
   
 'To Whom?' Cried the     Squire, Raising himself--'To Whom?' 
   
   
   
 'To Pamela,' Said Elizabeth Firmly. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 13 Pg 235 
 'Pamela!' The     Squire Leapt From His Seat. 'What On Earth Has Pamela 
 Got To Do With It!' 
   
   
   
 'A Very Great Deal. She Is The     Natural Head Of     Your House, And It 
 Would Be Very Difficult For Me To Go On Living here--After--Perhaps--I 
 Have Just Put A Few Things Straight For You, And Catalogued the 
 Pots--Without Getting in her Way, And Infringing her Rights!' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Was Sitting very Erect And Bright-Eyed. It Seemed to Her 
 That Some Subliminal Self For Which She Was Hardly Responsible Had 
 Suddenly Got The     Better Of     A Hair-Splitting casuistical Self, Which 
 Had Lately Been In command Of     Her, And That The     Subliminal Self Had 
 Spoken Words Of     Truth And Soberness. 
   
   
   
 But Instead Of     Storming, The     Squire Laughed contemptuously. 
   
   
   
 'Pamela'S Rights? Well, I'Ll Discuss Them When She Remembers Her 
 Duties! I Remonstrated with Her One Morning when The     Servants Were 
 All Giving warning--And There Was Nothing to Eat--And She Had Made A 
 Hideous Mess Of     Some Instructions Of     Mine About A Letter To The 
 County Council--And I Pointed out To Her That None Of     These Things 
 Would Have Happened if You Had Been Here.' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, Poor Pamela!' Exclaimed elizabeth--'But Still More, Poor Me!' 
   
   
   
 '"Poor Me"?' Said The     Squire. 'What Does That Mean?' 
   
   
   
 'You See, I Have A Weakness For Being liked!' Said Elizabeth After A 
 Moment. 'And How Can Pamela Like Anybody That Is Being thrown At Her 
 Head Like That?' She Looked at Her Companion Reproachfully. But The 
 Squire Was Not To Be Put Down. 
   
   
   
 'Besides,' He Continued, Without Noticing her Interruption, 'Pamela 
 Writes To Me This Morning that She Wants My Consent To Her Training 
 As An Army Nurse.' 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 13 Pg 236 
   
 'Oh No,' Cried elizabeth--'Not Yet. She Is Too Young!' 
   
   
   
 Her Face Showed her Distress. So She Was Really Driving this Poor 
 Child, Whom She Would So Easily Have Loved had It Been Allowed her, 
 Out Of     Her Home! No Doubt Pamela Had Seized on The     Pretext Of     Her 
 'Row' With Her Father To Carry Out Her Threat To Elizabeth Of 
 'Running away,' And Before Elizabeth'S Return To Mannering, So That 
 Neither The     Squire Nor Any One Else Should Guess At The     Real Reason. 
 But How Could Elizabeth Acquiesce? 
   
   
   
 Yet If She Revealed the     Story Of     Pamela'S Attack Upon Her To The 
 Squire, What Would Happen? Only A Widening of     The     Breach Between Him 
 And His Daughter. Elizabeth, Of     Course, Might Depart, But Pamela 
 Would Be None The     More Likely To Return To Face Her Father'S Wrath. 
 And Again For The     Hundredth Time Elizabeth Said To Herself, In 
 Mingled pain And Exasperation--'What _Did_ She Mean?--And What Have 
 I Ever Done That She Should Behave So?' 
   
   
   
 Then She Raised her Eyes. Something impelled her--As It Were A 
 Strong Telepathic Influence. The     Squire Was Gazing at Her. His 
 Expression Was Extraordinarily Animated. It Seemed to Her That Words 
 Were Already On His Lips, And That At All Costs She Must Stop Them 
 There. 
   
   
   
 But Fortune Favoured her. There Was A Knock At The     Library Door. The 
 Squire Irritably Said, 'Come In!' And Forest Announced, 'Captain 
 Dell.' The     Squire, With Some Muttered remark, Walked across To His 
 Own Table. 
   
   
   
 The Agent Entered with A Beaming countenance. All That He Knew Was 
 That The     Only Competent Person In a Rather Crazy Household Had 
 Returned to It, And That Business Was Now Likely To Go Forward. He 
 Had Brought Some Important Letters, And He Laid Them Nominally 
 Before His Employer, But Really Before Elizabeth. He And She Talked; 
 The Squire Smoked and Listened, Morosely Aloof. Yet By The     End Of 
 The Agent'S Visit A Grudging but Definite Consent Had Been Given To 
 The Great Timber Deal; And Elizabeth Hurried off As Captain Dell 
   
 Departed--Thankful For The     Distant Sound Of     The     First Bell For 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 13 Pg 237 
 Dinner. 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 Sitting up In bed that Night, With Her Hands Behind Her Head, While 
 A Westerly Wind Blew About The     House, Elizabeth Again Did Her Best 
 To Examine Both Her Conscience And Her Situation. 
   
   
   
 The Summons Which Had Taken Her Home Had Been A Peremptory One. Her 
 Mother, Who Had Been Ill For A Good Many Months, Had Suddenly 
 Suffered some Brain Injury, Which Had Reduced her To A Childish 
 Helplessness. She Did Not Recognize Elizabeth, And Though She Was 
 Very Soon Out Of     Physical Danger, The     Mental Disaster Remained. A 
 Good Nurse Was Now More To Her Than The     Daughter To Whom She Had 
 Been Devoted. A Good Nurse Was In charge, And Elizabeth Had 
 Persuaded an Elderly Cousin, Living on A Small Annuity, To Come And 
 Share Her Mother'S Rooms. Now What Was More Necessary Than Ever 
 Was--Money! Elizabeth'S Salary Was Indispensable. 
   
   
   
 Was She To Allow Fine Feelings About Pamela To Drive Her Out Of     Her 
 Post And Her Earnings--To The     Jeopardy Not Only Of     Her Mother'S 
 Comfort, But Of     The     Good--The National--Work Open To Her At 
 Mannering? 
   
   
   
 But There Was A Much More Agitating question Behind. She Had Only 
 Trifled with It Till Now. But On The     Night Of     Her Return It Pressed. 
 And As A Reasonable Woman, Thirty Years Of     Age, She Proceeded to 
 Look It In the     Face. 
   
   
   
 When Captain Dell So Opportunely--Or Inconveniently--Knocked at The 
 Library Door, Mr. Mannering was On The     Point Of     Asking his Secretary 
 To Marry Him. Of     That Elizabeth Was Sure. 
   
   
   
 She Had Just Escaped, But The     Siege Would Be Renewed. How Was She 
 Going to Meet It? 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 13 Pg 238 
 Why Shouldn'T She Marry The     Squire? She Was Poor, But She Had 
 Qualities Much More Valuable To The     Squire Than Money. She Could 
 Rescue Him From Debt, Put His Estate On A Paying footing, Restore 
 Mannering, Rebuild The     Village, And All The     Time Keep Him Happy By 
 Her Sympathy With And Understanding of     His Classical Studies And 
 Hobbies. 
   
   
   
 And Thereby She Would Be Doing not Only A Private But A Public 
 Service. The     Mannering estate And Its Owner Had Been An Offence To 
 The Patriotism Of     A Whole Neighbourhood. Elizabeth Could And Would 
 Put An End To That. She Had Already Done Much To Modify It. In her 
 Greek Scholarship, And Her Ready Wits, She Possessed all The     Spells 
 That Were Wanted for The     Taming of     The     Squire. 
   
   
   
 As To The     Squire Himself? She Examined the     Matter Dispassionately. 
 He Was Fifty-Two--Sound In wind And Limb--A Gentleman In spite Of 
 All His Oddities And Tempers--And One Of     The     Best Greek Scholars Of 
 His Day. She Could Make Her Own Terms. 'I Would Take His Name--Give 
 Him My Time, My Brains, My Friendship--In Time, No Doubt, My 
 Affection.' He Would Not Ask For More. The     Modern Woman, No Longer 
 Young, An Intellectual, With A Man'S Work To Do, Can Make Of 
 Marriage What She Pleases. The     Possibilities Of     The     Relations 
 Between Men And Women In the     Future Are Many, And The     Psychology Of 
 Them Unexplored. Elizabeth Was Beginning to Think Her Own Case Out, 
 When, Suddenly, She Felt The     Tears Running over Her Cheeks. 
   
   
   
 She Was Back In past Days. Mannering had Vanished. Oh--For 
 Love!--For Youth!--For The     Broken Faith And The     Wounded trust!--For 
 The First Fresh Wine Of     Life That, Once Dashed from The     Lips, The 
 Gods Offer No More! She Found Herself Sobbing helplessly, Not For 
 Her Actual Lost Lover, Who Had Passed out Of     Her Life, But For Those 
 Beautiful Ghosts At Whose Skirts She Seemed to Be Clutching--Youth 
 Itself, Love Itself. 
   
   
   
 Had She Done With Them For Good And All? That Was What Marrying the 
 Squire Meant. 
   
   
   
 A Business Marriage--On Her Side, For An Income, A Home, A Career; 
   
 On His, For A Companion, A Secretary, An Agent. Well, She Said To 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 13 Pg 239 
 Herself As She Calmed down, That She Could Face; But Supposing, 
 After All, That The     Squire Was Putting more Into The     Scales Than 
 She? A Sudden Fear Grew Strong In her--Fear Lest This Man Should 
 Have More Heart, More Romance In him Than She Had Imagined 
 Possible--That While She Was Thinking of     A Business Partnership, The 
 Squire Was Expecting, Was About To Offer, Something quite Different. 
   
   
   
 The Thought Scared and Repelled her. If That Were Indeed the     Case, 
 She Would Bid Mannering a Long And Final Farewell. 
   
   
   
 But No!--She Reassured herself; She Recalled the     Squire'S Passionate 
 Absorption In his Archæological Pursuits; How His Dependence Upon 
 Her, His Gratitude To Her, His Surprising fits Of     Docility, Were All 
 Due To The     Fact That She Helped him To Pursue Them--That His Mind 
 Sharpened itself Against Hers--That Her Hand And Brain Were The 
 Slaves Of     His Restless Intelligence. 
   
   
   
 That Was All--That Must, That Should Be All. She Thought Vigorously 
 Of The     Intellectual Comradeships Of     History--Beginning with Michael 
 Angelo And Vittoria Colonna. They Were Not Certainly Quite On All 
 Fours With Her Own Situation--But Give Modern Life And The     New Woman 
 Time! 
   
   
   
 Suppose, Then, These Anxieties Set At Rest, And That Immediately, 
 Within Twenty-Four Hours, Or A Week, The     Squire Were To Ask Her To 
 Marry Him And Were Ready To Understand The     Matter As She Did--What 
 Else Stood In the     Way? 
   
   
   
 Then, Slowly, In the     Darkness Of     The     Room, There Rose Before Her The 
 Young Figures Of     The     Twins, With Their Arms Round Each Other'S 
 Necks, As She Had Often Seen Them--Desmond And Pamela. And They 
 Looked at Her With Hostile Eyes! 
   
   
   
 'Cuckoo!--Intriguer!--We Don'T Want You!--We Won'T Accept You!' 
   
   
   
 But After All, As Elizabeth Reflected not Without A Natural 
   
 Exasperation, She Was _Not_--Consciously--A Cuckoo; She Was Not An 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 13 Pg 240 
 Intriguer; There Was Nothing of     The     Becky Sharp About Her At All; It 
 Would Have Been So Very Much Simpler If There Had Been! To Swallow 
 The Squire And Mannering at One Gulp, To Turn Out The     Twins, To Put 
 Mrs. 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. 
 Bremerton, And Half A Page About An Air-Raid. It Left Elizabeth 
 Sorer And More Puzzled than Before. 
   
   
   
 Desmond Too! She Had Written To Him Also From London A Long Chat 
 About All The     Things He Cared about At Mannering--The Animals, 
 Pamela'S Pony, The     Old Keeper, The     Few Pheasants Still Left In the 
 Woods, And What Perley Said Of     The     Promise Of     A Fair Partridge 
 Season. And The     Boy Had Replied immediately. Desmond'S Eton Manners 
 Were Rarely Caught Napping; But The     Polite Little Note--Stiff And 
 Frosty--Might Have Been Written To A Complete Stranger. 
   
   
   
 What _Was_ In their Minds? How Could She Put It Right? Well, Anyhow, 
 Desmond Could Not At That Moment Be Wasting time Or Thought On Home 
   
 Worries, Or Her Own Supposed misdemeanours. Where Was The     Radiant 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 13 Pg 241 
 Boy Now? In some Artillery Camp, She Supposed, Behind The     Lines, 
 Waiting for His Ordeal Of     Blood And Fire. Waiting with The     Whole 
 Army--The Whole Empire--For That Leap Of     The     German Monster Which 
 Must Be Met And Parried and Struck Down Before England Could Breathe 
 Again. And As She Thought Of     Him, Her Woman'S Soul, Winged by Its 
 Passion Of     Patriotism, Seemed to Pass Out Into The     Night Across The 
 Sea, Till It Stood Beside The     English Hosts. 
   
   
   
 'Forces And Powers Of     The     Universe, Be With Them!--Strengthen The 
 Strong, Uphold The     Weak, Comfort The     Dying!--For In them Lies The 
 Hope Of     The     World.' 
   
   
   
 Her Life Hung On The     Prayer. The     Irresponsive Quiet Of     The     Night 
 Over The     Mannering woods And Park, With Nothing but The     Wind For 
 Voice, Seemed to Her Unbearable. And It Only Answered to The     Apathy 
 Within Doors. Why, The     Squire Had Scarcely Mentioned the     War Since 
 Her Return! Neither He Nor Mrs. Gaddesden Had Asked her For An 
 Evening paper, Though There Had Been A Bad London Raid The     Night 
 Before. She Had Seen A Letter 'On Active Service,' And Addressed, 
 She Thought, In desmond'S Handwriting, Lying on The     Library Table; 
 And It Seemed to Her There Was A French Ordnance Map Near It. But In 
 Answer To Her Enquiries About The     Boy, The     Squire Had Vouchsafed 
 Only A Few Irritable Words, 'Well--He'S Not Killed yet! The     Devil'S 
 Business Over There Seems To Be Working up To A Greater Hell Than 
 Ever!' Nothing more. 
   
   
   
 Well, She Would See To That! Mannering should Feel The     War, If She 
 Were To Live In it. She Straightened her Shoulders, Her Will 
 Stiffening to Its Task. 
   
   
   
 Yes, And While That Dear Boy Was Out There, In that Grim Fighting 
 Line, No Action Of     Hers, If She Could Help It, Should Cause Him A 
 Moment'S Anger Or Trouble. Her Resolution Was Taken. If The     Squire 
 Did Mean To Ask Her To Marry Him She Would Try And Stop Him In 
 Mid-Career. If She Couldn'T Stop Him, Well, Then, She Would Give Him 
 His Choice--Either To Keep Her, As Secretary And Friend, And Hold 
 His Peace, Or To Lose Her. She Felt Certain Of     Her Power To Contain 
 The Squire'S 'Offensive,' If It Were Really Threatened. 
   
   
   
 But, On The     Other Hand, She Was Not Going to Give Up Her Post 
   
 Because The     Twins Had Taken Some Unjust Prejudice Against Her! 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 13 Pg 242 
 Nothing of     The     Kind. She Had Those Ash Trees To Look After! She Was 
 Tolerably Sure That A Thorough Search Would Comb Out A Good Many 
 More For The     Air Board From The     Squire'S Woods Than Had Yet Been 
 Discovered. The     Fallerton Hospital Wanted more Accommodation. There 
 Was An Empty House Belonging to The     Squire, Which She Had Already 
 Begun, Before Her Absence, With His Grudging permission, To Get 
 Ready For The     Purpose. _That_ Had To Be Finished. The     War Workroom 
 In The     Village, Which She Had Started, Must Have Another 
 Superintendent, The     First Having turned out A Useless Chatterbox. 
 Elizabeth Had Her Successor Already In mind. There Were Three Or 
 Four Applications Waiting for The     Two Other Neglected farms. Captain 
 Dell Was Hurrying on The     Repairs; But There Was More Money 
 Wanted--She Must Get It Out Of     The     Squire. Then As To Labour--German 
 Prisoners?--Or Women? 
   
   
   
 Her Brain Began To Teem With A Score Of     Projects. But After Lying 
 Awake Another Hour, She Pulled herself Up. 'This Won'T Do. I Must 
 Have Six Hours' Sleep.' And She Resolutely Set Herself To Repeat One 
 Of The     Nursery Poems Of     Her Childhood, Till, Wooed by Its Silly 
 Monotony, Sleep Came. 
   
   
   
 It Was A Bright March Day In the     Mannering woods, Where The     Squire, 
 Elizabeth, And Captain Dell Were Hanging about Waiting for Sir Henry 
 Chicksands. The     Astonishing warmth And Sunshine Of     The     Month Had 
 Brought Out A Shimmer Of     Spring everywhere, Reddened the     Great Heads 
 Of The     Oaks, And Set The     Sycamore Buds Shining like Jewels In the 
 Pale Blue. There Was An Endless Chatter And Whirr Of     Wood-Pigeons In 
 The High Tree-Tops, And Underfoot The     Anemones And Violets Were Busy 
 Pushing their Gentle Way Through The     Dead Leaves Of     Autumn. The 
 Squire'S Beechwoods Were Famous In the     Neighbourhood, And He Was 
 Still Proud Of     Them; Though For Many Years Past They Had Gone 
 Unnoticed to Decay, And Were In some Places Badly Diseased. 
   
   
   
 To Elizabeth, In an Artistic Mood--The Mood Which Took Her In town 
 To See Exhibitions Of     Brabazon Or Steer--The Woods Were Fairyland. 
 The High Slender Oak Of     The     Middle Wood, The     Spreading oak That 
 Lived on Its Borders, The     Tall Columnar Beech Feathering into The 
 Sky, Its Grey Stem Shining as Though By Some Magic Property In the 
 Beautiful Forest Twilight--The Gleams And The     Shadows, The     Sounds 
 And Scents Of     The     Woodland World--She Could Talk Or Write About 
   
 These Things As Poetically, And As Sincerely, As Any Other Educated 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 13 Pg 243 
 Person When Put To It; But On This Occasion, It Has To Be Said 
 Frankly, She Was Thinking of     Nothing but Aeroplanes And Artillery 
 Waggons. And She Had By Now Developed a Kind Of     _Flair_ In the 
 Woods, Which Was The     Astonishment Of     Captain Dell, Himself No Mean 
 Forester. As Far As Ash Was Concerned, She Was A Hunter On The 
 Trail. She Could Distinguish An Ash Tree Yards Ahead Through A Mixed 
 Or Tangled wood, And Track It Unerringly. The     Thousand Ash That She, 
 And The     Old Park-Keepers Set On By Her, Had Already Found For The 
 Government, Were Nothing to What She Meant To Find. The     Squire'S 
 Woods, Some Of     Which She Had Not Yet Explored at All, Were As Mines 
 To Her In which She Dug For Treasure--For The     Timber That Might Save 
 Her Country. 
   
   
   
 Captain Dell Delighted in her. He Had Already Taught Her A Great 
 Deal, And Was Now Drilling her In the     Skilled arts Of     Measurement 
 And Valuation. The     Squire, In stupefaction, Watched her At Work With 
 Pole And Tape, Measuring, Noting, Comparing. Had It Been Any One 
 Else He Would Have Been Bored and Contemptuous. But The     Novelty Of 
 The Thing and The     Curious Fact That The     Lady Who Looked up His Greek 
 References Was Also The     Lady Who Was Measuring the     Trees, Kept Him A 
 Half-Unwilling but Still Fascinated spectator Of     Her Proceedings. 
   
   
   
 In The     Midst Of     Them Sir Henry Chicksands Appeared, Making his Way 
 Through The     Thick Undergrowth. Elizabeth Threw A Hasty Look At The 
 Squire. This Was The     First Time The     Two Neighbours Had Met Since The 
 Quarrel. The     Squire Had Actually Written First--And To Please Her. 
 Very Touching, And Very Embarrassing! She Hoped for The     Best. 
   
   
   
 Sir Henry Chicksands Advanced as Though Nothing had Happened--Solid, 
 Ruddy, Benevolent, And Well Dressed, As Usual. 
   
   
   
 He Bowed with Marked deference To Elizabeth, And Then Offered a Hand 
 To The     Squire, Which Was Limply Accepted. 
   
   
   
 'Well, Mannering, Very Glad To See You. Like Every One Else, You 
 Seem To Be Selling your Woods.' 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 13 Pg 244 
 'Under Threat Of     Being shot If I Don'T!' Said The     Squire Grimly. 
   
   
   
 'What? They'Re Commandeered?' 
   
   
   
 'The Government Spies Are All About. I Preferred to Anticipate Them. 
 Well, What About Your Ploughed-Up Grass-Lands, Chicksands? I Hear 
 They Are Full Of     Wire-Worms, And The     Crops A Very Poor Show.' 
   
   
   
 'Ah, It Was An Enemy Said That,' Laughed sir Henry, Submitting with 
 A Good Grace To Some More Remarks Of     The     Same Kind, And Escaping 
 From Them As Soon As He Could. 
   
   
   
 'I Heard Of     Your Haul Of     Ash,' He Said. 'A Man In the     Air Board Told 
 Me. Magnificent!' 
   
   
   
 'You May Thank Her.' The     Squire Indicated his Secretary. 'I Knew 
 Nothing about It.' 
   
   
   
 'And You'Re Still Hunting?' Sir Henry Turned to Elizabeth. 'May I 
 Join Your Walk If You'Re Going through The     Woods?' Captain Dell Was 
 Introduced. 'You Want My Opinion On Your Deal? Well, I'M An Old 
 Forester, And I'Ll Give It You With Pleasure. I Used to Shoot Here, 
 Year After Year, With The     Squire, In our Young Days--Isn'T That So, 
 Mannering? I Know This Bit Of     Country By Heart, And I Think I Could 
 Help You To Bag A Few More Ash.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth'S Blue Eyes Appealed with All Proper Deference To The 
 Squire. 
   
   
   
 'Won'T You Come?' 
   
   
   
 He Shook His Head. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 13 Pg 245 
 'I'M Tired of     Timber. Do What You Like. I'Ll Sit Here And Read Till 
 You Come Back.' 
   
   
   
 Sir Henry'S Shrug Was Perceptible, But He Held His Peace, And The 
 Three Walked away. The     Squire, Finding a Seat On A Fallen Tree, Took 
 A Book Out Of     His Pocket And Pretended to Read It. 
   
   
   
 'Nobody Can Be As Important As Chicksands Looks!' He Said To Himself 
 Angrily. Even The     Smiling manner Which Ignored their Six Months' 
 Quarrel Had Annoyed him Hugely. It Was A Piece Of     Condescension--An 
 Impertinence. Oh, Of     Course Chicksands Was The     Popular Man, The 
 Greatest Power In the     County, Looked up To, And Listened to By 
 Everybody. The     Squire Knew Very Well That He Himself Was Ostracized, 
 Even Hated; That There Had Been General Chuckling in the 
 Neighbourhood Over His Rough Handling by The     County Committee, And 
 That It Would Please A Good Many People To See All His Woods 
 Commandeered and 'Cut Clean.' 
   
   
   
 Six Months Before, His Inborn Pugnacity Would Only Have Amused 
 Itself With The     Situation. He Was A Rebel And A Litigant By Nature. 
 Smooth Waters Had Never Attracted him. 
   
   
   
 Yet Now--Though He Would Never Have Admitted it--He Was Often 
 Conscious Of     A Flagging will And A Depressed spirit. The     Loneliness 
 Of His Life, Due Entirely To Himself, Had, During elizabeth 
 Bremerton'S Absence, Begun Sharply To Find Him Out. He Had No True 
 Fatherly Relation With Any Of     His Children. Desmond Loved him--Why, 
 He Didn'T Know. He Didn'T Believe Any Of     The     Others Cared anything 
 At All About Him. Why Should They? 
   
   
   
 The Squire'S Eyes Followed the     Three Distant Walkers, Elizabeth, 
 Graceful And Vigorous, Between The     Other Two. And The     Conviction 
 Gripped him That All The     Pleasure, The     _Liveableness_ Of     Life--Such 
 As Still Remained possible--Depended for Him On That Central Figure. 
 He Looked back On His Existence Before Her Arrival At Mannering, And 
 On What It Had Been Since. Why, She Had Transformed it! 
   
   
   
 How Could He Cage And Keep Her?--The Clever, Gracious Creature! For 
   
 The First Time In his Life He Was Desperately, Tremulously Humble. 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 13 Pg 246 
 He Placed no Dependence At All On His Name Or His Possessions. 
 Elizabeth Was Not To Be Bought. 
   
   
   
 But Management--Power--For The     Things She Believed in--_They_ Might 
 Tempt Her. He Would Give Them To Her With Both Hands, If Only She 
 Would Settle Down Beside Him, Take A Freehold Of     That Chair And 
 Table In the     Library, For Life! 
   
   
   
 He Looked back Gloomily To His Clumsy Proposal About Her Mother, And 
 To Her Remarks About Pamela. It Would Be Indeed intolerable If His 
 Children Got In his Way! The     Very Notion Put Him In a Fever. 
   
   
   
 If That Tiresome Fellow, Dell, Had Not Interrupted them The     Night 
 Before, What Would Have Happened? 
   
   
   
 He Had All The     Consciousness Of     A Man Still In the     Prime Of     Life, In 
 Spite Of     His White Hair; For He Had Married at Twenty-One, And Had 
 Never--Since They Grew Up--Seemed to Himself Very Much Older Than 
 His Elder Children. He Had But A Very Dim Memory Of     His Wife. 
 Sometimes He Felt As If, Notwithstanding the     Heat Of     Boyish Passion 
 Which Had Led him To Marry Her, He Had Never Really Known Her. There 
 Were Moments When He Had An Uncomfortable Suspicion That For Some 
 Years Before Her Death She Had Silently But Irrevocably Passed 
 Judgment Upon Him, And Had Withdrawn Her Inner Life From Him. 
 Friends Of     Hers Had Written To Him After Her Death Of     Beautiful 
 Traits And Qualities In her Of     Which He Himself Had Known Nothing. 
 In Any Case They Were Not Traits And Qualities Which Appealed in the 
 Long Run To A Man Of     His Pursuits And Temperament. He Was Told That 
 Pamela Had Inherited some Of     Them. 
   
   
   
 A Light Rustling sound In the     Wood. He Looked up To See Elizabeth 
 Coming back Towards Him Unaccompanied. Captain Dell And Sir Henry 
 Seemed to Have Left Her. 
   
   
   
 A Thrill Of     Excitement Ran Through Him. They Were Alone In the 
 Depths Of     The     Spring woodland. What Better Opportunity Would He Ever 
 Have? 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 14 Pg 247 
   
 Elizabeth Was Coming back In that Flushed mood When An Able Man Or 
 Woman Who Begins To Feel The     Tide Of     Success Or Power Rising beneath 
 Them Also Begins To Remind Himself Or Herself Of     All The     Old 
 Commonplaces About Fate Or Chance. Elizabeth'S Greek Reading had 
 Steeped her In them. 'Count No Man Happy Till His Death'; 'Count 
 Nothing finished till The     End'; Tags Of     This Kind Were Running 
 Through Her Mind, While She Smiled a Little Over The     Compliments 
 That Sir Henry Had Been Paying her. 
   
   
   
 He Could Not Express, He Said, The     Relief With Which He Had Heard Of 
 Her Return To Mannering. 'Don'T, Please, Go Away Again!' Everybody 
 In The     County Who Was At All Responsible For Its War-Work Felt The 
 Same. Her Example, During the     Winter, Had Been Invaluable, And The 
 Skill With Which She Had Brought The     Squire Into Line, And Set The 
 Squire'S Neglected estate On The     Road To Food-Production, Had 
 Been--In Sir Henry'S View--Nothing short Of     A Miracle. 
   
   
   
 'Yes, A Miracle, My Dear Lady!' Repeated sir Henry Warmly. 'I Know 
 The Prickliness Of     Our Good Friend There! I Speak To You 
 Confidentially, Because I Realize That You Could Not Possibly Have 
 Done What You Have Done Unless You Had Won The     Squire'S 
 Confidence--His Complete Confidence. Well, That'S An Achievement, I 
 Can Tell You--As Bad As Storming a Redoubt. Go On--Don'T Let Go! 
 What You Are Doing here--The Kind Of     Work You Are Doing--Is Of 
 National Importance. God Only Knows What Lies Before Us In the     Next 
 Few Months!' 
   
   
   
 And Therewith A Sudden Sobering of     The     Ruddy Countenance And 
 Self-Important Manner. For A Few Seconds, From His Mind And 
 Elizabeth'S There Vanished all Consciousness Of     The     English Woodland 
 Scene, And They Were Looking over A Flayed and Ravaged country Where 
 Millions Of     Men Stood Ranged for Battle. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 14 Pg 248 
 Sir Henry Sighed. 
   
   
   
 'Thank God, Arthur Is Still At Home--Doing some Splendid Work, They 
 Tell Me, At The     War Office, But, Of     Course, Pining to Be Off To 
 France Again. I Hear From Him That Desmond Is Somewhere Near 
 Armentières. Well, Good-Bye--I Tied my Horse To The     Gate, And Must 
 Get Home. Stick To It! Say Good-Bye To The     Squire For Me--I Shall Be 
 Over Again Before Long. If There Is Anything i Can Do For You--Count 
 Upon Me. But _We_ Count Upon You!' 
   
   
   
 Astonishing effusion!--From An Elderly Gentleman Who, At The 
 Beginning of     Things, Had Regarded her As Elderly Gentlemen Of     Great 
 Local Position Do Regard Young Women Secretaries Who Are Earning 
 Their Own Living. Sir Henry'S Tone Was Now The     Tone Of     One Potentate 
 To Another; And, As We Have Seen, It Caused elizabeth To Tame Her 
 Soul With Greek, As She Walked back Through The     Wood To Rejoin The 
 Squire. 
   
   
   
 When She Perceived him Waiting for Her, She Wished with Some Fervour 
 That She Were Not Alone. She Had Tried to Keep Captain Dell With 
 Her, But He Had Pleaded an Urgent Engagement At A Village Near The 
 Farther End Of     The     Wood. And Then Sir Henry Had Deserted her. It Was 
 Annoying--And Unforeseen. 
   
   
   
 The Squire Observed her As She Came Up--The Light, Springing step, 
 The Bunch Of     Primroses In her Belt. He Closed the     Book, Of     Which He 
 Had Not In truth Read A Word. 
   
   
   
 'You Have Been A Long Time?' 
   
   
   
 'But I Assure You It Was Well Worth While!' She Paused in front Of 
 Him, A Little Out Of     Breath, Leaning on Her Measuring-Pole. 'We 
 Found Ten Or Twelve More Ash--Some Exactly Of     The     Size They Want.' 
   
   
   
   
 'Who Are "They"?' 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 14 Pg 249 
   
   
   
 'The Air Board,' Said Elizabeth, Smiling. 
   
   
   
 'The Fellows That Wrote Me That Letter? I Didn'T Want Their Thanks.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Took No Notice. She Resumed-- 
   
   
   
 'And Sir Henry Went Into The     Figures Of     That Contract With Captain 
 Dell. He Thinks The     Captain Has Done Very Well, And That The     Prices 
 Are Very Fair--Very Good, In fact.' 
   
   
   
 'All The     Same, I Don'T Mean To Accept Their Blessed contract.' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, But I Thought It Was Settled!' Cried elizabeth In distress. She 
 Sat Down On A Dry Stump A Little Way Off, And The     Squire Actually 
 Enjoyed the     Sight Of     Her Discomfiture. 
   
   
   
 'Why On Earth Should I Allow These People, Not Only To Make A 
 Hideous Mess Of     My Woods, And Murder My Trees, But To Take Three 
 Years--_Three Years_--Over The     Disgusting business, Before They Get 
 It All Done And Clear Up The     Mess? One Year Is The     Utmost I Will 
 Allow.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Looked consternation. 
   
   
   
 'But Think Of     The     Labour Difficulties,' She Pleaded. 'The Contractor 
 Can'T Get The     Men. Of     Course, He _Wants_ To Cut And Move The     Trees 
 As Soon As He Can, So As To Get His Money Back.' 
   
   
   
   
 'That'S His Affair,' Said The     Squire Obstinately. 'I Want To Get My 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 14 Pg 250 
 Woods In a Decent State Again, So That I Mayn'T Be For Ever Reminded 
 That I Sold Them--Betrayed them--For Filthy Lucre.' 
   
   
   
 'No!' Said Elizabeth Firmly, Her Colour Rising, 'For The     Army!' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Shrugged his Shoulders. 
   
   
   
 'So They Say. Meanwhile The     Timber-Man Makes An Unholy Profit.' 
   
   
   
 There Was Silence For A Moment, Then Elizabeth Said, 
   
   
   
 'Do You Really Mean To Stick To That Condition?' 
   
   
   
 'I Should Be Glad If Dell Would See To It.' 
   
   
   
 'Then'--Said Elizabeth Slowly--'The Contract Will Drop. I Understand 
 They Cannot Possibly Pledge Themselves To Removal Within The     Time 
 Named.' 
   
   
   
 'Well, There Are Other Timber-Merchants.' 
   
   
   
 'The Difficulty Of     Labour Is The     Same For Everybody. And Captain 
 Dell Thinks No One Else Would Give The     Price--Certainly Not The 
 Government. You Will Remember That Some Of     The     Money Was To Be Spent 
 Immediately.' Her Tone Was Cold And Restrained, But He Thought It 
 Trembled a Little. 
   
   
   
 'I Know,' He Interrupted, 'On Cottages And The     Hospital. Money Oozes 
 Away At Every Pore! I Shall Be A Bare Beggar After The     War. Have You 
 The Contract There? Or Did Dell Take It?' 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 14 Pg 251 
 Elizabeth Drew A Roll Of     Blue Paper Out Of     Her Pocket. Her 
 Indignation Made Her Speechless. All The     Endless Negotiations, 
 Captain Dell'S Work, Her Work--To Go For Nothing! What Was The     Use 
 Of Trying to Serve--To Work With Such A Man? 
   
   
   
 The Squire Took The     Roll From Her And Searched his Pockets For A 
 Fountain-Pen. 
   
   
   
 'I Will Make Some Notes On It Now For Dell'S Guidance. I Might 
 Forget It To-Night.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Said Nothing. He Turned away, Spread Out The     Papers On The 
 Smooth Trunk Of     The     Fallen Tree, And Began To Write. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Sat Very Erect, Her Mouth Proudly Set, Her Eyes Wandering 
 Into The     Distance Of     The     Wood. What Was She To Do? The     Affront To 
 Herself Was Gross--For The     Squire Had Definitely Promised her The 
 Night Before That The     Bargain Should Go Through. And She Felt Hotly 
 For The     Hard-Working agent. Should She Put Up With It? Her 
 Meditations Of     The     Night Recurred to Her--And She Seemed to Herself 
 A Very Foolish Woman! 
   
   
   
 'There You Are!' Said The     Squire, As He Handed the     Roll Back To Her. 
   
   
   
 She Looked at It Unwillingly. Then Her Face Changed. She 
 Stooped over The     Contract. Below The     Signature Of     The     Firm Of 
 Timber-Merchants Stood Large And Full That Of     'Edmund Mannering.' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Smiled. 
   
   
   
 'Now Are You Satisfied?' 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 14 Pg 252 
 She Returned the     Contract To Its Envelope, And Both To Her Pocket. 
 Then She Looked at Him Uncertainly. 
   
   
   
 'May I Ask What That Meant?' 
   
   
   
 Her Voice Was Still Strained, And Her Eyes By No Means Meek. 
   
   
   
 'I Am Sorry,' Said The     Squire Hurriedly. 'I Don'T Know--It Was A 
 Whim. I Wanted to Have The     Pleasure--' 
   
   
   
 'Of Seeing how A Person Looks Under A Sudden Disappointment?' Said 
 Elizabeth, With Rather Pinched lips. 
   
   
   
 'Not At All. It Was A Childish Thing--I Wanted to See You Smile 
 When I Gave You The     Thing back. There--That'S The     Truth. It Was You 
 Disappointed me!' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth'S Wrath Vanished. She Hid Her Face In her Hands And 
 Laughed. But There Was Agitation Behind The     Laughter. These Were Not 
 The Normal Ways Of     A Reasonable Man. 
   
   
   
 When She Looked up, The     Squire Had Moved to A Log Close Beside Her. 
 The March Sun Was Pouring down Upon Them, And There Was A Robin 
 Singing, Quite Undisturbed by Their Presence, In a Holly-Bush Near. 
 The Squire'S Wilful Countenance Had Never Seemed to Elizabeth More 
 Full Of     An Uncanny And Even Threatening energy. Involuntarily She 
 Withdrew Her Seat. 
   
   
   
 'I Wish To Be Allowed to Make A Very Serious Proposition To You,' He 
 Said Eagerly, 'One That I Have Been Considering for Weeks.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth--Rather Weakly--Put Up A Protesting hand. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 14 Pg 253 
 'I Am Afraid I Must Point Out To You, Mr. Mannering, That Mrs. 
 Gaddesden Will Be Waiting lunch.' 
   
   
   
 'If I Know Alice, She Will Not Wait Lunch! And Anyway There Are 
 Things More Important Than Lunch. May I Take It For Granted, Miss 
 Bremerton, That You Have Not Been Altogether Dissatisfied with Your 
 Life Here During this Six Months?' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Looked him Gravely In the     Face. It Was Clear There Was To 
 Be No Escape. 
   
   
   
 'How Could I Have Been, Mr. Mannering? You Have Taught Me A Great, 
 Great Deal--And Given Me Wonderful Opportunities.' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Nodded, With A Look Of     Satisfaction. 
   
   
   
 'I Meant To. Of     Course Chicksands Would Say That It Was Only My 
 Own Laziness--That I Have Given You The     Work I Ought To Have Done 
 Myself. My Reply Would Be That It Was Not My Work. If A Man 
 Happens To Be Born To A Job He Is Not In the     Least Fitted for, 
 That'S The     Affair Of     Providence. Providence Bungled it When He, 
 She, Or It--Take Which Pronoun You Like--[Greek: Tychê], As You 
 And I Know, Is Feminine--Made Me A Landowner. My Proper Job Was To 
 Dig Up And Decipher What Is Left Of     The     Greeks. And If Any One 
 Says That The     Two Jobs Are Not _Tanti_, And The     Landowning job Is 
 More Important Than The     Other, I Disagree With Him Entirely, And 
 It Would Be Impossible For Him To Prove It. But There Was A 
 Vacuum--That I Quite Admit--And Nature--Or Providence--Disliked 
 It. So She Sent You Along, My Dear Lady!'--He Turned upon Her A 
 Glowing countenance--'And You Fitted it Exactly. You Laid Hands On 
 What Has Proved to Be Your Job, And Chicksands, I Expect, Has Been 
 Telling you How Marvellously You'Re Doing it, And Begging you 
 Not To Let This Duffer'--The Squire Pointed to His Leather 
 Waistcoat--'Get Hold Of     It Again. Hasn'T He?' 
   
   
   
 He Smiled triumphantly, As Elizabeth'S Sudden Flush Showed that His 
 Shaft Had Hit. But He Would Not Let Her Speak. 
   
   
   
 'No--Please Don'T Interrupt Me! Of     Course Chicksands Took That View. 
   
 Any Sensible Man Would--Not That Henry Is Really A Sensible Man. 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 14 Pg 254 
 Well, Now, Then--I Want To Ask You This. Don'T These Facts Point To 
 A Rather--Remarkable--Combination? You Assist Me In the     Job That I 
 Was Born For. I Have Been Fortunate Enough To Be Able To Put Into 
 Your Hands The     Job That You Apparently Were Born For. And You Will 
 Forgive Me For Saying that It Might Have Been Difficult For You To 
 Find It Without My Aid. Nature--That Is--Seems To Have Endowed you 
 Not Only With A Remarkable Head For Greek, But Also With The 
 Capacity For Dealing with The     Kind Of     People Who Drive Me 
 Distracted--Agents And Timber-Merchants, And Stuck-Up County 
 Officials, Whom I Want To Slay. And You Combine Your Job With An 
 Idealism--Just As I Do Mine. You Say "It'S For The     Country" Or "For 
 The Army," As You Did Just Now. And I Scribble And Collect--For 
 Art'S Sake--For Beauty'S Sake--For The     Honour Of     Human Genius--What 
 You Like! What Then Could Be More Reasonable--More Natural'--The 
 Squire Drew Himself Up Gravely--'Than That You And I Should Join 
 Forces--Permanently? That I Should Serve Your Ideas--And You Should 
 Serve Mine?' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Broke Off, Observing her. Elizabeth Had Listened to This 
 Extraordinary Speech With Growing bewilderment. She Had Dreaded lest 
 The Squire--In Proposing to Marry Her--Should Make Love To Her. But 
 The Coolness Of     The     Bargain Actually Suggested to Her, The     Apparent 
 Absence From It Of     Any Touch Of     Sentiment, Took Her Completely 
 Aback. She Was Asked, In fact, To Become His Slave--His Bailiff And 
 Secretary For Life--And The     Price Was Offered. 
   
   
   
 Her Face Spoke For Her, Before She Could Express Her Feeling in 
 Words. The     Squire, Watching her, Hurriedly Resumed. 
   
   
   
 'I Put It Like An Idiot! What I Meant Was This. If I Could Induce 
 You To Marry Me--And Put Up With Me--I Believe Both Our Lives Might 
 Be Much More Interesting and Agreeable!' 
   
   
   
 The Intensity Of     The     Demand Expressed in his Pale Hazel Eyes And 
 Frowning brow Struck Full Upon Her. 
   
   
   
 But Elizabeth Slowly Shook Her Head. 
   
   
   
 'I Am Very Grateful To You, Mr. Mannering, But'--A Rather Ironical 
 Smile Showed itself--'I Think You Hardly Understand Me. We Shoul 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 14 Pg 255 
 Never Get On.' 
   
   
   
 'Why?' 
   
   
   
 'Because Our Temperaments--Our Characters--Are So Different.' 
   
   
   
 'You Can'T Forgive Me About The     War?' 
   
   
   
 'Well, That Hurts Me,' She Said, After A Moment, 'But I Leave That 
 To Mr. Desmond. No! I Am Thinking of     Myself And You. What You 
 Propose Does Not Attract Me At All. Marriage--In My View--Wants 
 Something--Deeper--To Build On Than You Suggest.' 
   
   
   
 'Inconsistent Woman!' Cried the     Inner Voice, But Elizabeth Silenced 
 It. She Was Not Inconsistent. She Would Have Resented love-Making, 
 But _Feeling_--Something to Gild The     Chain!--That She Had Certainly 
 Expected. The     Absence Of     It Humiliated her. 
   
   
   
 The Squire'S Countenance Fell. 
   
   
   
 'Deeper?' He Said, With A Puzzled look. 'I Wonder What You Mean? I 
 Haven'T Anything "Deeper." There Isn'T Anything "Deep" About Me.' 
   
   
   
 Was It True? Elizabeth Suddenly Recalled those Midnight Steps On The 
 Night Of     Desmond'S Departure. 
   
   
   
 'You Know,' He Resumed, 'For You Have Worked with Me Now For Six 
 Months--You Know At Least What Kind Of     A Man I Am. I Assure You It'S 
 At Any Rate No Worse Than That! And If I Ever Annoyed you Too Much, 
 Why You Could Always Keep Me In order--By The     Mere Threat Of     Going 
 Away! I Could Have Cut My Throat Any Day With Pleasure During those 
 Weeks You Were Absent!' 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 14 Pg 256 
 Again Elizabeth Hid Her Face In her Hands And Laughed--Rather 
 Hysterically. There _Was_ Something in this Last Appeal That Touched 
 Her--Some Note Of     'The Imperishable Child,' Which Indeed she Had 
 Always Recognized in the     Squire'S Strange Personality. 
   
   
   
 The Squire Waited--Frowning. When She Looked up At Last She Spoke In 
 Her Natural Friendly Voice. 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T Think, Mr. Mannering, We Had Better Go On Talking like 
 This. I Can'T Accept What You Offer Me--' 
   
   
   
 'Again I Can'T Think Why,' He Interrupted vehemently; 'You Have 
 Given Me No Sort Of     Explanation. Why Must You Refuse?' 
   
   
   
 'Because I Don'T Feel Like It,' She Said, Smiling. 'That'S All I 
 Need say. Please Don'T Think Me Ungrateful. You'Ve Offered me Now A 
 Position And A Home--And You'Ve Given Me My Head All This Time. I 
 Shall Never Forget It. But I'M Afraid--' 
   
   
   
 'That Now I'Ve Made Such An Ass Of     Myself You'Ll Have To Go?' 
   
   
   
 She Thought A Moment. 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T Know That I Need say That--If--If I Could Be Sure--' 
   
   
   
 'Of What? Name Your Conditions!' 
   
   
   
 His Face Suddenly Lightened again. And Again A Quick Compunction 
 Struck Her. 
   
   
   
 She Looked at Him Gently. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 14 Pg 257 
 'It'S Only--That I Couldn'T Stay Here--You Will See Of     Course That I 
 Couldn'T--Unless I Were Quite Sure That This Was Dead And Buried 
 Between Us--That You Would Forget It Entirely--And Let Me Forget 
 It!' 
   
   
   
 Was It Fancy, Or Did The     Long Don Quixotish Countenance Quiver A 
 Little? 
   
   
   
 'Very Well. I Will Never Speak Of     It Again. Will That Do?' There Was 
 A Long Pause. The     Squire'S Stick Attacked a Root Of     Primroses 
 Closely, Prized it Out Of     The     Damp Ground, And Left It There. Then 
 He Turned to His Companion With A Changed aspect. 'Well, Now, 
 Then--We Are As We Were--And'--With A Long Half-Indignant 
 Breath--'Remember I Have Signed that Contract!' 
   
   
   
 He Rose From His Seat As He Spoke. 
   
   
   
 They Walked home Together Through The     Great Wood, And Across The 
 Park. They Were Mostly Silent. The     Squire'S Words 'We Are As We 
 Were' Echoed in the     Ears Of     Both. And Yet Both Were Secretly Aware 
 That Something irrevocable Had Happened. 
   
   
   
 Then, Suddenly, Beating down All The     Personal Trouble And Disquiet 
 In Elizabeth'S Mind, There Rushed upon Her Afresh, As She Walked 
 Beside The     Squire, That Which Seemed to Shame All Personal 
 Feeling--The Renewed consciousness Of     England'S Death-Grapple With 
 Her Enemy--The Horror Of     Its Approaching crisis. How Could This 
 Strange Being at Her Elbow Be Still Deaf And Blind To It! 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 They Parted in the     Hall. 
   
   
   
 'Shall I Expect You At Six?' Said The     Squire Formally. 'I Have Some 
 Geographical Notes I Should Like You To Take Down.' 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 14 Pg 258 
   
   
 She Assented. He Went To His Study, And Shut Himself In. For A Long 
 Time He Paced up And Down, Flinging himself Finally Into A Chair In 
 Front Of     Desmond'S Portrait. There His Thoughts Took Shape. 
   
   
   
 'Well, My Boy, I Thought I'D Won Some Trenches--But The 
 Counter-Attack Has Swept Me Out. Where Are You? Are You Still Alive? 
 If Not, I Shan'T Be Long After You. I'M Getting old, My Boy--And 
 This World, As The     Devil Has Made It, Is Not Meant For Me.' 
   
   
   
 He Remained there For Some Time, His Hands On His Knees, Staring 
 Into The     Bright Face Of     His Son. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Too Went To Her Room. On Her Table Lay The     _Times_. She 
 Took It Up And Read The     Telegrams Again. Raid And Counter-Raid All 
 Along The     Front--And In every Letter And Telegram The     Shudder Of     The 
 Nearing event, Ghastly Hints Of     That Incredible Battlefield To Come, 
 That Hideous Hurricane Of     Death In which Europe Was To See Once More 
 Her Noblest And Her Youngest Perish. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, Why, Why Am I A Woman?' She Clasped her Hands Above Her Head In 
 A Passion Of     Revolt. 'What Does One'S Own Life Matter? Why Waste A 
 Thought--An Hour Upon It!' 
   
   
   
 In A Second She Was At Her Table Putting together The     Notes She Had 
 Made That Morning in the     Wood. About A Hundred and Fifty More Ash 
 Marked in that Wood Alone!--Thanks To Sir Henry. She Rang Up Captain 
 Dell, And Made Sure That They Would Be Offered that Night Direct To 
 The Government Timber Department--The Squire'S Ash, For Greater 
 Haste, Having been Now Expressly Exempted from The     General Contract. 
 Canadians Were Coming down To Fell Them At Once. They Must Be 
 Housed. One Of     The     Vacant Farms, Not Yet Let, Was To Be Got Ready 
 For Them. She Made Preliminary Arrangements By Telephone. Then, 
 After A Hasty Lunch, At Which The     Squire Did Not Appear, And Mrs. 
 Gaddesden Was More Than Usually Languid And Selfish, Elizabeth 
 Rushed off To The     Village On Her Bicycle. The     Hospital Commandant 
 Was Waiting for Her, With Such Workpeople As Could Be Found, And The 
 Preparation Of     The     Empty House For Fifty More Beds Was Well Begun. 
 Elizabeth Was Frugal, But Resolute, With The     Squire'S Money. She Had 
 Leave To Spend. But She Would Not Abuse Her Power; And All Through 
   
 Her Work She Was Conscious Of     A Queer Remorseful Gratitude Towards 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 14 Pg 259 
 The Man In whose Name She Was Acting. 
   
   
   
 Then She Bicycled to The     School, Where A Group Of     Girls Whom She 
 Had Captured for The     Land Were Waiting to See Her. Their Uniforms 
 Were Lying ready On One Of     The     Schoolroom Tables. She Helped the 
 Girls To Put Them On, Laughing, Chatting, Admiring--Ready Besides 
 With A Dozen Homely Hints On How To Keep Well--How To Fend For 
 Themselves, Perhaps In a Lonely Cottage--How To Get On With The 
 Farmer--Above All, How To Get On With The     Farmer'S Wife. Her 
 Sympathy Made Everything worth While--Put Colour And Pleasure Into 
 This New And Strange Adventure, Of     Women Going out To Break Up And 
 Plough And Sow The     Ancient Land Of     Our Fathers, Which The     Fighting 
 Men Had Handed over To Them. Elizabeth Decked the     Task With Honour, 
 So That The     Girls In their Khaki Stood Round Her At Last Glowing, 
 Though Dumb!--And Felt Themselves--As She Bade Them Feel--The 
 Comrades-In-Arms Of     Their Sweethearts And Their Brothers. 
   
   
   
 Then With The     March Twilight She Was Again At Mannering. She Changed 
 Her Bicycling dress, And Six O'Clock Found Her At Her Desk, 
 Obediently Writing from The     Squire'S Dictation. 
   
   
   
 He Put Her Through A Stiff Series Of     Geographical Notes, Including a 
 Number Of     Quotations From Homer And Herodotus, Bearing on The     Spread 
 Of Greek Culture In the     Aegean. During the     Course Of     Them He Broke 
 Out Once Or Twice Into His Characteristic Sayings And Illustrations, 
 Racy Or Poetic, As Usual, And Elizabeth Would Lift Her Blue Eyes, 
 With The     Responsive Look In them, On Which He Had Begun To Think All 
 His Real Power Of     Work Depended. But Not A Word Passed between Them 
 On Any Other Subject; And When It Was Over She Rose, Said A Quiet 
 Good-Night, And Went Away. After She Had Gone, The     Squire Sat Over 
 The Fire, Brooding and Motionless, For Most Of     The     Evening. 
   
   
   
 One March Afternoon, A Few Days Later, The     Following letter Reached 
 Pamela, Who Was Still With Her Sister. It Was Addressed in desmond 
 Mannering'S Large And Boyish Handwriting. 
   
   
   
      'B.E.F., _March_. 
   
   
   
   
      'My Dear Pamela--I Am Kicking my Heels Here At An Engineer'S 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 14 Pg 260 
      Store, Waiting for An Engineer Officer Who Is Wanted to Plan 
      Some New Dug-Outs For Our Battery, And As There Is No One To 
      Talk To Inside Except The     Most Inarticulate Hielander I Ever 
      Struck, I Shall At Last Make Use Of     One Of     Your Little 
      Oddments, My Dear, Which Are Mostly Too Good To Use Out 
      Here--And Write You A Letter On A Brand New Pocket-Pad, With A 
      Brand New Stylo. 
   
   
   
      'I Expect You Know From Arthur About Where We Are. It'S A 
      Pretty Nasty Bit Of     The     Line. The     Snipers Here Are The 
      Cleverest Beasts Out. There Isn'T A Night They Don'T Get Some 
      Of     Us, Though Our Fellows Are As Sharp As Needles Too. I Went 
      Over A Sniping school Last Week With A Jolly Fellow Who Used to 
      Hunt Lions In africa. My Hat!--We Have Learnt A Thing or Two 
      From The     Huns Since We Started. But You Have To Keep A Steady 
      Look-Out, I Can Tell You. There Was A Man Here Last Night In a 
      Sniper'S Post, Shooting through A Trench Loophole, You 
      Understand, Which Had An Iron Panel. Well, He Actually Went To 
      Sleep With His Rifle In his Hand, Having had A Dog'S Life For 
      Two Or Three Nights. But For A Mercy, He Had Pulled down His 
      Panel--Didn'T Know He Had!--And The     Next Thing he Knew Was A 
      Bullet Spattering on It--Just Where His Eye Should Have Been. 
      He Was Jolly Quick In backing out And Into A Dug-Out, And An 
      Hour Later He Got The     Man. 
   
   
   
      'But There Was An Awful Thing here Last Night. An Officer Was 
      Directing one Of     Our Snipers--Stooping down Just Behind Him, 
      When A Hun Got Him--Right In the     Eyes. I Was Down At The 
      Dressing-Station Visiting one Of     Our Men Who Had Been Knocked 
      Over--And I Saw Him Led in. He Was Quite Blind,--And As Calm As 
      Anything--Telling people What To Do, And Dictating a Post Card 
      To The     Padre, Who Was Much More Cut Up Than He Was. I Can Tell 
      You, Pamela, Our Army Is _Fine_! Well, Thank God, I'M In 
      It--And Not A Year Too Late. That'S What I Keep Saying to 
      Myself. And The     Great Show Can'T Be Far Off Now. I Wouldn'T 
      Miss It For Anything, So I Don'T Give The     Hun Any More Chances 
      Of     Knocking me Over Than I Can Help. 
   
   
   
      'You Always Want To Know What Things Look Like, Old Pam, So 
      I'Ll Try And Tell You. In the     First Place, It'S Just A Glorious 
      Spring day. At The     Back Of     The     Cranky Bit Of     A Ruined farm 
      Where We Have Our Diggings (By The     Way, You May Always Go Back 
      At Night And Find Half Your Bedroom Shot Away--That Happened to 
      Me The     Other Night--There Was A Tunic Of     Mine Still Hanging on 
   
      The     Door, And When You Opened the     Door, Nothing but A Hole Ten 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 14 Pg 261 
      Feet Deep Full Of     Rubble--Jolly Luck, It Didn'T Happen At 
      Night-Time!) There Are Actually Some Lilac Trees, And The     Buds 
      On Them Are Quite Big. And Somehow Or Other The     Birds Manage To 
      Sing in spite Of     The     Hell The     Huns Have Made Of     Things. 
   
   
   
      'I'M Looking out Now Due East. There'S A Tangled mass Of 
      Trenches Not Far Off, Where There'S Been Some Hot Raiding 
      Lately. I See An Engineer Officer With A Fatigue Party Working 
      Away At Them--He'S Showing the     Men How To Lay Down A New 
      Trench With Tapes And Pegs. Just To My Left Some Men Are 
      Filling up A Crater. Then There'S A Lorry Full Of     Bits Of     An 
      Old Corduroy Road They'Re Going to Lay Down Somewhere Over A 
      Marshy Place. There Are Two Sausage Balloons Sitting up Aloft, 
      And Some Aeroplanes Coming and Going. Our Front Line Is Not 
      More Than A Mile Away, And The     German Line Is About A Mile And 
      A Quarter. Far Off To My Right I Can Just See A Field With 
      Tanks In it. Ah--There Goes A Shell On The     Hun Line--Another! 
      Can'T Think Why We'Re Tuning up At This Time Of     Day. We Shall 
      Be Getting some Of     Their Heavy Stuff Over Directly, If We Don'T 
      Look Out. It'S Rot! 
   
   
   
      'And The     Sun Is Shining like Blazes On It All. As I Came Up I 
      Saw Some Of     Our Men Resting on The     Grass By The     Wayside. They 
      Were Going up To The     Trenches--But It Was Too Early--The Sun 
      Was Too High--They Don'T Send Them In till Dusk. Awfully Good 
      Fellows They Looked! And I Passed a Company Of     Bantams, Little 
      Welsh Chaps, As Fit As Mustard. Also A Poor Mad Woman, With A 
      Basket Of     Cakes And Chocolate. She Used to Live In the     Village 
      Where I'M Sitting now--On A Few Bricks Of     It, I Mean. Then Her 
      Farm Was Shelled to Bits And Her Old Husband And Her Daughter 
      Killed. And Nothing will Persuade Her To Go. Our People Have 
      Moved her Away Several Times--But She Always Comes Back--And 
      Now They Let Her Alone. Our Soldiers Indeed are Awfully Good To 
      Her, And She Looks After The     Graves In the     Little Cemetery. But 
      When You Speak To Her, She Never Seems To Understand, And Her 
      Eyes--Well, They Haunt One. 
   
   
   
      'I'M Beginning to Get Quite Used to The     Life--And Lately I Have 
      Been Doing some Observation Work With An F.O.O. (That Means 
      Forward Observation Officer), Which Is Awfully Exciting. Your 
      Business On These Occasions Is To Get As Close To The     Germans 
      As You Can, Without Being seen, And You Take A Telephonist With 
      You To Send Back Word To The     Guns, And, By Jove, We Do Get 
   
      Close Sometimes! 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 14 Pg 262 
   
   
      'Well, Dear Old Pam, There'S My Engineer Coming across The 
      Fields, And I Must Shut Up. Mind--If I Don'T Come Back To 
      You--You'Re Just To Think, As I Told You Before, That It'S _All 
      Right_. Nothing matters--_Nothing_--But Seeing this Thing 
      Through. Any Day We May Be In the     Thick Of     Such A Fight As I 
      Suppose Was Never Seen In the     World Before. Or Any Night--Hard 
      Luck! One May Be Killed in a Beastly Little Raid That Nobody 
      Will Ever Hear Of     Again. But Anyway It'S All One. It'S Worth 
      It. 
   
   
   
      '_Your_ Letters Don'T Sound To Me As Though You Were 
      Particularly Enjoying life. Why Don'T You Ever Give Me News Of 
      Arthur? He Writes Me Awfully Jolly Letters, And Always Says 
      Something nice About You. Father Has Written To Me _Three_ 
      Times--Decent, I Call It,--Though He Always Abuses Lloyd 
      George, And Generally Puts Some Greek In i Can'T Read. I Wonder 
      If We Were Quite Right About Broomie? You Never Say Anything 
      About Her Either. But I Got A Letter From Beryl The     Other Day, 
      And What Miss B. Seems To Be Doing with Father And The     Estate 
      Is Pretty Marvellous. 
   
   
   
      'All The     Same I Don'T Hear Any Gossip As To What You And I Were 
      Afraid Of. I Wonder If I Was A Brute To Answer Her As I 
      Did--And After Her Nice Letter To Me? Anyway, It'S No Wonder 
      She Doesn'T Write To Me Any More. And She _Did_ Tell Me Such A 
      Lot Of     News. 
   
   
   
      'Good-Bye. Your Writing-Pad Is Really Ripping. Likewise Pen. 
      Hullo, There Go Some More Shells. I Really Must Get Back And 
      See What'S Up.--Your Loving 
   
   
   
      'Desmond.' 
   
   
   
 Meanwhile In the     Seething world Of     London, Where The     War-Effort Of 
 An Empire Was Gathered up Into One Mighty Organism, The     Hush Of 
 Expectancy Grew Ever Deeper. Only A Few Weeks Or Days Could Now 
 Divide Us From The     German Rush On Paris And The     Coast. Behind The 
 German Lines All Was Movement And Vast Preparation. Any Day England 
 Might Rise To Find The     Last Fight Begun. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 14 Pg 263 
   
   
 Yet Morning after Morning all The     News That Came Was Of     Raids, 
 Endless Raids, On Both Sides--A Perpetual Mosquito Fight, Buzzing 
 Now Here, Now There, As Information Was Wanted by The     Different 
 Commands. Many Lives Were Lost Day By Day, Many Deeds Of     Battle 
 Done. But It All Seemed as Nothing--Less Than Nothing--To Those 
 Whose Minds Were Fixed on The     Clash To Come. 
   
   
   
 Then One Evening, Early In the     Second Week In march, A Telegram 
 Reached aubrey Mannering at Aldershot. He Rushed up To Town, And 
 Went First To The     War Office, Where Chicksands Was At Work. 
   
   
   
 Chicksands Sprang Up To Meet Him. 
   
   
   
 'You'Ve Heard? I'Ve Just Got This. I Made His Colonel Promise To 
 Wire Me If--' 
   
   
   
 He Pointed to An Open Telegram On His Table: 
   
   
   
 "Desmond Badly Hit In raid Last Night. Tell His People. Authorities 
 Will Probably Give Permission To Come. Well Looked after." 
   
   
   
 The Two Men Stared at Each Other. 
   
   
   
 'I Have Wired to My Father,' Said Mannering, 'And Am Now Going to 
 Meet Him At King'S Cross. Can You Go And Tell Pamela To Get 
 Ready--Or Margaret? But He'Ll Want Pamela!' 
   
   
   
 Neither Was Able To Speak For A Moment, Till Mannering said, 'I'Ll 
 Bring my Father To Margaret'S, And Then I'Ll Go And See After The 
 Permits.' 
   
   
   
 He Lingered a Moment. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 14 Pg 264 
   
 'I--I Think It Means The     Worst.' 
   
   
   
 Chicksands' Gesture Was One Of     Despair. 
   
   
   
 Then They Hurried away From The     War Office Together. 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 15 Pg 265 
   
 It Was Afternoon At Mannering. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Was Walking home From The     Village Through The     Park. Still 
 The Same Dry East-Wind Weather--Very Cold In the     Wind, Very Warm In 
 The Sun. If The     German Offensive Began While These Fine Days Held, 
 They Would Have The     Luck Of     Weather As We Had Never Had It. Think Of 
 The Drenching rains And Winds Of     The     Passchendaele Attack! In the 
 Popular Mind The     Notion Of     'A German God' Was Taking actual Concrete 
 Shape. A Huge And Monstrous Form, Sitting on A German Hill, Plotting 
 With The     Kaiser, And Ordering the     Weather Precisely As The     Kaiser 
 Wished--It Was Thus That English Superstition, Aided by Imperial 
 Speeches And Telegrams, Began To Be Haunted. 
   
   
   
 Yet The     World Was Still Beautiful--The Silvery Stems Of     The     Trees, 
 The Flitting of     The     Birds, The     Violet Carpets Underfoot. On The 
 Fighting line Itself There Was Probably A New Crop Of     Poets, Hymning 
 The Spring with Death For Listener, As Julian Grenfell And Rupert 
 Brooke Had Hymned it, In that First Year Of     The     War That Seems Now 
 An Eternity Behind Us. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 15 Pg 266 
   
   
 Moving along A Path Converging on Her Own, Elizabeth Perceived the 
 Squire. For The     First Time That Morning he Had Put Off Their Joint 
 Session, And She Had Not Seen Him All Day. Her Mind Was Now Always 
 Uneasily Aware Of     Him--Aware, Too, Of     Some Change In him, For Which 
 In Some Painful Way She Felt Herself Responsible. He Had Grown 
 Strangely Tame And Placable, And It Was Generally Noticed that He 
 Looked older. Yet He Was More Absorbed than Ever In the     Details Of 
 Greek Research And The     Labour Of     His Catalogue. Only, Of     An Evening, 
 He Read The     _Times_ For A Couple Of     Hours, Generally In complete 
 Silence, While Elizabeth And Mrs. Gaddesden Talked and Knitted. 
   
   
   
 An Extraordinary Softness--An Extraordinary Compassion--Was Steadily 
 Invading elizabeth'S Mind In regard To Him. Something suggested to 
 Her That He Had Come Into Life Maimed of     Some Essential Element Of 
 Being, Possessed by His Fellow-Men, And That He Was Now Conscious Of 
 The Lack, As A Greek Faun Might Be Conscious Of     The     Difference 
 Between His Life And That Of     Struggling and Suffering men. Nothing, 
 Indeed, Could Less Suggest The     Blithe Nature-Life Which Greek 
 Imagination Embodied in the     Faun, Than The     Bizarre And Restless 
 Aspect Of     The     Squire. This Spare White-Haired man, With His Tempers 
 And Irritations, Was Far Indeed from Greek Joyousness. And Yet The 
 Greek Sense Of     Beauty, Half Intellectual, Half Sensuous, Had Always 
 Seemed to Her The     Strongest Force In him. Was It Now Besieged by 
 Something else?--Was The     Faun In him, At Last, After These Three 
 Years, Beginning to Feel The     Bitter Grip Of     Humanity? 
   
   
   
 '"Deeper"? I Don'T Know What You Mean. There Is Nothing "Deep" In 
 Me!' She Often Recalled that Saying of     His, And The     Look Of 
 Perplexity Which Had Accompanied it. 
   
   
   
 To Herself Of     Late He Had Been Always Courteous And Indulgent; She 
 Had Hardly Had An Uncivil Word From Him! But It Seemed to Her That 
 He Had Also Begun To Avoid Her, And The     Suspicion Hurt Her 
 Amazingly. If Indeed it Were True, Then Leave Mannering she Must. 
   
   
   
 He Came Up With Her At A Cross-Road, And Threw Her A Look Of 
 Enquiry. 
   
   
   
   
 'You Have Been To The     Village?' 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 15 Pg 267 
   
   
   
 'To The     Hospital. Thirty Fresh Wounded arrived last Night.' 
   
   
   
 'I Have Just Seen Chicksands,' Said The     Squire Abruptly. 'Arthur 
 Tells Him The     German Attack Must Be Launched in a Week Or Two, And 
 May Come Any Day. A Million Men, Probably, Thrown Against Us.' 
   
   
   
 'So--The Next Few Months Will Decide,' Said Elizabeth, Shuddering. 
   
   
   
 'My God!--Why Did We Ever Go Into This War!' Cried the     Man Beside 
 Her Suddenly, In a Low, Stifled voice. She Glanced at Him In 
 Astonishment. The     New Excuses, The     New Tenderness For Him In her 
 Heart Made Themselves Heard. 
   
   
   
 'It Was For Honour,' She Breathed--'For Freedom!' 
   
   
   
 'Words--Just Words. They Don'T Stop Bombs!' 
   
   
   
 But There Was Nothing truculent In the     Tone. 
   
   
   
 'You Had A Line From Mr. Desmond This Morning?' 
   
   
   
 'Yes--A Post Card. He Was All Right.' 
   
   
   
 Silence Dropped between Them. They Walked on Through The     Beautiful 
 Wooded park. Carpets Of     Primroses Ran Beside Them, And Masses Of 
 Wild Cherry Blossoms Were Beginning to Show Amid The     Beeches. 
 Elizabeth Was Vaguely Conscious Of     Beauty, Of     Warm Air, Of     Heavenly 
 Sun. But The     Veil Upon The     Face Of     All Nations Was Upon Her Eyes 
 Also. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 15 Pg 268 
   
 When They Reached the     House, The     Squire Said, 
   
   
   
 'I Looked up The     Passage In the     _Persae_ That Occurred to Me 
 Yesterday. Will You Come And Take It Down?' 
   
   
   
 They Went Into The     Library Together. On A Special Table In front Of 
 The Squire'S Desk There Stood A Magnificent Greek Vase Of     The     Early 
 Fifth Century B.C. A King--Persian, From His Dress--Was Sitting in a 
 Chair Of     State, And Before Him Stood A Small Man Apparently 
 Delivering a Message. [Greek: Aggelos] Was Roughly Written Over His 
 Head. 
   
   
   
 The Squire Walked up And Down With A Text Of     The     _Persae_ In his 
 Hand. 
   
   
   
 '"This Vase," He Dictated, "May Be Compared with One Signed by 
 Xenophantos, In the     Paris Collection, The     Subject Of     Which Is The 
 Persian King, Hunting. Here We Have A Persian King, Identified by 
 His Dress, Apparently Receiving a Message From His Army. We May 
 Illustrate It By The     Passage In the     _Persae_ Of     Æschylus, Where 
 Atossa Receives From A Messenger The     Account Of     The     Battle Of 
 Salamis--A Passage Which Contains The     Famous Lines Describing the 
 Greek Onslaught On The     Persian Fleet: 
   
   
   
 '"'Then Might You Hear A Mighty Shout Arise-- 
   
   
   
 '"'Go, Ye Sons Of     Hellas!--Free Your Fathers, Free Your Children And 
 Your Wives, The     Temples Of     Your Gods, And The     Tombs Of     Your 
 Ancestors. For Now Is All At Stake!...' 
   
   
   
 '"We May Recall Also The     Final Summing-Up By The     [Greek: Aggelos] Of 
 The Persian Defeat-- 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 15 Pg 269 
   
 '"'_Never, On A Single Day, Was There So Great A Slaying of     Men._'"' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Took Down The     Words, First In greek And Then In english. 
 They Rang In her Ears, Long After She Had Transcribed them. The 
 Squire Moved up And Down In silence, Absorbed apparently In the     Play 
 Which He Went On Reading. 
   
   
   
 Outside The     Light Was Failing. It Was Close On Six O'Clock, And 
 Summer Time Had Not Yet Begun. 
   
   
   
 Suddenly The     Squire Raised his Head. 
   
   
   
 'That, I Think, Was The     Telephone?' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Rose-- 
   
   
   
 'May I Go? It Is Probably Captain Dell.' 
   
   
   
 She Hurried away To Her Office-Room, Where The     Call-Bell Was 
 Insistently Ringing. 
   
   
   
 'Yes--Who Is That?' 
   
   
   
 'A Telegram Please--For Mr. Mannering--From London.' 
   
   
   
 'Wait A Moment--I Will Tell Mr. Mannering.' 
   
   
   
 But As She Turned to Go Back To The     Library She Saw The     Squire Had 
 Followed her, And Was Standing at The     Door. He Came Forward At Once 
   
 And Took Up The     Receiver. 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 15 Pg 270 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Watched him With A Fast Beating pulse. He Heard The 
 Message, Took Out A Pencil And Wrote It Down On A Piece Of     Paper 
 Lying near, Put Up The     Receiver, And Turned to Her. 
   
   
   
 'It Is From Aubrey. "Desmond Is Severely Wounded. Please Come At 
 Once. Permission Will Be Given To You And Pamela To Go To France. I 
 Hope To Go With You. Will Meet You King'S Cross 8.40. Aubrey."' 
   
   
   
 He Steadied himself A Moment By A Hand On Elizabeth'S Table. She 
 Went Up To Him, And Took His Other Hand, Which Closed an Instant On 
 Hers. 
   
   
   
 'I Thought So,' He Said, Under His Breath. 'I Knew It.... Telephone, 
 Please, To Fallerton For The     Taxi, While I Go And Speak To Forest.' 
   
   
   
 She Gave The     Order And Then Hastened into The     Hall Where Mrs. 
 Gaddesden Was Busy Trimming a Hat. The     Squire'S Eldest Daughter 
 Sprang Up At Sight Of     Elizabeth. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, What Is It? I Know It'S Bad News--It'S Desmond!' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Repeated the     Telegram. 'Your Father Is Going off At Once. 
 I Have Telephoned for The     Car.' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, But I Must Go Too--Of Course I Must!' Said Alice, Weeping. 
 'Where Is My Maid?' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Pointed out Gently That, In speaking of     The     Permits For 
 France, Major Mannering had Only Referred to The     Squire And Pamela. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, But He Must Have Meant Me Too--Of Course He Must! Where Is My 
 Maid?' She Rang The     Upstairs' Bell Violently. 'Oh, Father, How 
   
 _Awful_!'--The Squire Had Just Entered the     Hall--'Of Course I'M 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 15 Pg 271 
 Going with You?' 
   
   
   
 'What Does She Mean?' Said The     Squire Impatiently To Elizabeth. 
 'Tell Her I'M Going alone.' 
   
   
   
 'But, Father, You Must Take Me!' Cried alice, Running forward With 
 Clasped hands. 'He Is My Brother! I Must See Him Again!' 
   
   
   
 'He Asks For Pamela,' Said The     Squire Grimly. 'Aubrey Shall Wire To 
 You. You'D Better Stay Here--If Miss Bremerton Will Look After You.' 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T Want To Be Looked after--I Want To Look After Desmond And 
 You,' Said Alice, With Sobs. 
   
   
   
 The Squire'S Eyes Travelled over The     Soft Elaboration Of     Her Dress 
 And Hair--All Her Perfumed and Fashionable Person. 
   
   
   
 'It Is Impossible,' He Said Sharply. Then Turning to Elizabeth He 
 Gave Her A Few Directions About His Letters. 'I Shall Get Money In 
 Town. I Will Wire Directly We Arrive.' 
   
   
   
 Alice Was Silenced, And Sat Half Sulky, Half Sobbing, By The     Fire, 
 While The     Preparations For Departure Went Forward. She Offered help 
 Hysterically Once Or Twice, But It Was Not Needed. 
   
   
   
 The Little Car From The     Village Arrived in half An Hour. The     Squire 
 Stood At The     Hall Door Waiting for It. He Had Not Spoken Since The 
 News Arrived except To Give The     Most Necessary Orders. But As He Saw 
 The Car Nearing the     House, He Turned to Elizabeth. 
   
   
   
 'I Expect We Shall Cross To-Night. I Shall Wire You To-Morrow.' Then 
 To Forest-- 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 15 Pg 272 
   
 'Do Your Best To Help Miss Bremerton. She Is In charge Of 
 Everything.' 
   
   
   
 'Aye, Sir. You'Ll Give Our Duty To Mr. Desmond, Sir. I Trust You'Ll 
 Bring him Home.' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Made No Reply. He Stood Motionless Till The     Car Arrived, 
 Stepped into It, And Was Gone. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Went Back Into The     House, And To Alice Gaddesden, Still 
 Sobbing by The     Fire. At Sight Of     Elizabeth She Broke Out Into 
 Complaints Of     Her Father'S Unkindness, Mixed presently, To 
 Elizabeth'S Dismay, With Jealousy Of     Her Father'S Secretary. 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T Know Why Father Didn'T Let Me Help Him With His Packing, 
 And It'S I Who Should Have Been Left In charge! I'M His Eldest 
 Daughter--It Is Natural That I Should Be. I Can Tell You It'S Very 
 Hard--To See Somebody--Who'S Not A Relation--Doing--Doing everything 
 For Him!--So That He Won'T Let Anybody Else Advise Him--Or Do 
 Anything! It Is Very--Very--Wounding for Us All. Pamela Feels It--I 
 Know She Does--And Desmond Too.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth, Very White And Distressed, Knelt Down By Her And Tried to 
 Calm Her. But The     Flood Of     Angry Self-Pity Could Not Be Stayed. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, I Daresay You Don'T Mean It, But You Have--Yes, You Have A Way 
 Of Getting everybody'S Attention. Of     Course You'Re Awfully 
 Clever--Much Cleverer Than I Am--Or Pamela. But Still It--It Isn'T 
 Pleasant. I Know Pamela Felt It Dreadfully--Being cut Out With 
 People She Likes--People She Cares About--And Who--Who Might 
 Care For Her--Like Arthur Chicksands. I Believe--Yes, I Do 
 Believe--Though She Never Told Me--That'S Why She Went To London.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Rose From Her Knees. For A Moment She Was Struck Dumb. And 
 When At Last She Spoke It Was Only To Repeat The     Name Mrs. Gaddesden 
 Had Mentioned in utter Bewilderment. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 15 Pg 273 
 'Captain Chicksands! What Can You Mean?' 
   
   
   
 'Why, Of     Course Girls Can'T Hold Their Own With Older Women When The 
 Older Women Are So Charming and Clever--And All That'--Cried mrs. 
 Gaddesden, Trying desperately To Justify Herself--'But I'Ve Been 
 Awfully Sorry For Pamela! Very Likely It'S Not Your Fault--You 
 Couldn'T Know, I Daresay!' 
   
   
   
 'No, Indeed, I Didn'T Know!' Said Elizabeth, In a Low Voice, 'And I 
 Can'T Understand Now What You Mean.' 
   
   
   
 'Don'T You Remember The     Day Arthur Chicksands Spent Here Just Before 
 Desmond Went? Don'T You Remember How He Talked to You All The 
 Afternoon About The     Woods? Well, _I_ Saw Pamela'S Face As She Was 
 Sitting behind You.' 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Gaddesden Raised a Triumphant Though Tear-Stained countenance. 
 She Was Avenging not Only Her Father'S Latest Slight, But A Long 
 Series Of     Grievances--Small And Great--Connected with Elizabeth'S 
 Position In the     House. And The     Squire'S Farewell To Her Had Turned 
 Even Her Grief To Gall. 
   
   
   
 'If Pamela Was Hurt, I Was A Most Innocent Cause!' Said Elizabeth At 
 Last, Indignantly. 'And If You Or Any One Else Had Given Me The 
 Smallest Hint--' 
   
   
   
 'How Could We?' Was The     Rather Sulky Reply. 'Pamela, Of     Course, 
 Never Said A Word--To Me. But I Rather Think She Did Say Something 
 To Desmond.' 
   
   
   
 'Desmond!' Cried elizabeth Under Her Breath. She Turned slowly, And 
 Went Away, Leaving mrs. Gaddesden Panting and A Little Scared at 
 What She Had Done. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Went Back To The     Library, Where There Was Much To Put In 
 Order. She Forced herself To Tidy The     Squire'S Table, And To Write A 
   
 Business Letter Or Two. But When That Was Done She Dropped her Face 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 15 Pg 274 
 In Her Hands, And Shed a Few Very Bitter Tears. 
   
   
   
 She Seemed to Herself To Have Failed miserably. In truth, Her Heart 
 Clung To All These People. She Soon Attached herself To Those With 
 Whom She Lived, And Was But Little Critical Of     Them. The     Warm, 
 Maternal Temper Which Went With Her Shrewd Brain Seemed to Need 
 Perpetually Objects On Which To Spend Itself. She Could Have Loved 
 The Twins Dearly Had They Let Her, And Day By Day, In the     Absence Of 
 The Mother, She Had Been Accustomed to Nurse, She Had Even 
 Positively Enjoyed 'Petting' Mrs. Gaddesden, Holding her Wool For 
 Her, Seeing to Her Hot-Water Bottles, And Her Breakfast In bed. 
   
   
   
 Pamela In love With Arthur Chicksands! And She Remembered that A 
 Faint Idea Of     It Had Once Crossed her Mind, Only To Be Entirely 
 Dismissed and Forgotten. 
   
   
   
 'But I Ought To Have Seen--I Ought To Have Known! Am I Really A 
 Vampire?' 
   
   
   
 And She Remembered how She, In her First Youth, Had Suffered from 
 The Dominance And The     Accomplishment Of     Older Women; Women Who Gave 
 A Girl No Chance, Who Must Have All The     Admiration, And All The 
 Opportunities, Who Would Coolly And Cruelly Snatch A Girl'S Lover 
 From Her. 
   
   
   
 'And That'S How I'Ve Appeared to Pamela!' Thought Elizabeth Between 
 Laughing and Crying. 'Yet All I Did Was To Talk About Ash For 
 Aeroplanes! Oh, You Poor Child--You Poor Child!' 
   
   
   
 She Seemed to Feel Pamela'S Pain In her Own Heart--She Who Had Had 
 Love And Lost It. 
   
   
   
 'Am I Just An Odious, Clever Woman?' She Sat Down And Hated herself. 
 All The     Passing vanity That Had Been Stirred in her By Sir Henry'S 
 Compliments, All The     Natural Pleasure She Had Taken In the     Success 
 Of Her Great Adventure As A Business Woman, In the     Ease With Which 
 She, The     Squire'S Paid Secretary, Had Lately Begun To Lead The 
   
 Patriotic Effort Of     An English County--How Petty, How Despicable 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 15 Pg 275 
 Even, It Seemed, In presence Of     A Boy Who Had Given His All!--Even 
 Beside A Girl In love! 
   
   
   
 And The     Squire--'Was I Hard To Him Too?' 
   
   
   
 The Night Came Down. All The     Strange Or Beautiful Shapes In the 
 Library Wavered and Flickered under The     Firelight--The Glorious 
 Nikê--The Erôs--The Noble Sketch Of     The     Boy In his Cricketing 
 Dress.... 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 The Following morning came A Telegram From Aubrey Mannering to Mrs. 
 Gaddesden. Elizabeth Had Done Her Best To Propitiate Her But She 
 Remained cold And Thorny, And When The     Telegram Came She Was Pleased 
 That The     News Came To Her First, And--Tragic As It Was--That 
 Elizabeth Had To Ask Her For It! 
   
   
   
 'Terrible Wounds. Fear No Hope. We Shall Bring him Home As Soon As 
 Possible.' 
   
   
   
 But An Hour Later Arrived another--From The     Squire To Elizabeth. 
   
   
   
 'Have A Bed got Ready In the     Library. Desmond'S Wish. Also 
 Accommodation Near For Surgeon And Nurses. May Be Able To Cross 
 To-Morrow. Will Wire.' 
   
   
   
 But It Was Nearly Two Days Before The     Final Message Arrived--From 
 Pamela To Her Sister. 'Expect Us 7.20 To-Night.' 
   
   
   
 By That Time The     Ground-Floor Of     The     West Wing had Been Transformed 
 Into A Temporary Ward With Its Adjuncts, Under The     Direction Of     A 
 Fallerton Doctor, Who Had Brought Desmond Into The     World And Pulled 
   
 Him Through His Childish Illnesses. Elizabeth Had Moved most Of     The 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 15 Pg 276 
 Statues, Transferred the     Sargent Sketch To The     Drawing-Room, And Put 
 All The     Small Archæological Litter Out Of     Sight. But The     Nikê Was 
 Too Big And Heavy To Be Moved, And Elizabeth Remembered that Desmond 
 Had Always Admired 'The Jolly Old Thing' With Its Eager Outstretched 
 Wings And Splendid Brow. Doctor Renshaw Shook His Head Over The 
 Library As A Hospital Ward, And Ordered a Vast Amount Of     Meticulous 
 Cleaning and Disinfection. 
   
   
   
 'No Hope?' He Said, Frowning. 'How Do We Know? Anyway There Shall Be 
 No Poison I Can Help.' But The     Boy'S Wish Was Law. 
   
   
   
 On The     Afternoon Before The     Arrival, Elizabeth Was Seized with 
 Restlessness. When There Was Nothing more To Be Done In the     Way Of 
 Hospital Provision (For Which A List Of     Everything needed had Been 
 Sent Ahead To Doctor Renshaw)--Of Flowers, Of     Fair Linen--And When, 
 In Spite Of     The     Spring sun Shining in through All The     Open Windows 
 On The     Bare Spotless Boards, She Could Hardly Bear The     Sight And 
 Meaning of     The     Transformation Which Had Come Over The     Room, She 
 Found Herself Aimlessly Wandering about The     Big House, Filled with A 
 Ghostly Sense Of     Past And Future. What Was To Be The     Real Meaning of 
 Her Life At Mannering? She Could Not Have Deserted the     Squire In the 
 Present Crisis. She Had Indeed no False Modesty As To What Her Help 
 Would Mean, Practically, To This Household Under The     Shadow Of 
 Death. At Least She Could Run The     Cook And The     Servants, Wrestle 
 With The     Food Difficulties, And Keep The     Squire'S Most Essential 
 Business Going. 
   
   
   
 But Afterwards? She Shivered at The     Word. Yes, Afterwards She Would 
 Go! And Pamela Should Reign. 
   
   
   
 Suddenly, In a Back Passage, Leading from Her Office To The 
 Housekeeper'S Room, She Came Upon A Boy Of     Fourteen, Forest'S 
 Hall-Boy, Really A Drudge-Of-All-Work, On Whom Essential Things 
 Depended. He Was Sitting on A Chair Beside The     Luggage Lift Absorbed 
 In Some Work, Over Which His Head Was Bent, While An Eager Tip Of 
 Tongue Showed through His Tightened lips. 
   
   
   
 'What Are You Doing, Jim?' Elizabeth Paused beside The     Boy, Who Had 
   
 Always Appeared to Her As A Simple, Docile Creature, Not Very Likely 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 15 Pg 277 
 To Make Much Way In a Jostling world. 
   
   
   
 'Please, Miss, I'M Knitting,' Said Jim, Raising a Flushed face. 
   
   
   
 'Knitting! Knitting what?' 
   
   
   
 'Knitting a Sock For My Big Brother. He'S In france, Miss. Mother 
 Learnt Me.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Was Silent A Moment, Watching the     Clumsy Fingers As They 
 Struggled with The     Needles. 
   
   
   
 'Are You Very Fond Of     Your Brother, Jim?' She Asked at Last. 
   
   
   
 'Yes, Miss,' Said The     Boy, Stooping a Little Lower Over His Work. 
 Then He Added, 'There'S Only Him And Me--And Mother. Father Was 
 Killed last Year.' 
   
   
   
 'Do You Know Where He Is?' 
   
   
   
 'No, Miss. But Mr. Desmond Told Me When He Was Here He Might Perhaps 
 See Him. And I Had A Letter From Mr. Desmond Ten Days Ago. He'D Come 
 Across Bob, And He Wrote Me A Letter.' 
   
   
   
 And Out Of     His Pocket He Pulled a Grimy Envelope, And Put It Into 
 Elizabeth'S Hands. 
   
   
   
 'Do You Want Me To Read It, Jim?' 
   
   
   
 'Please, Miss.' But She Was Hardly Able To Read The     Letters For The 
 Dimness In her Eyes. Just A Boyish Letter--From A Boy To A Boy. But 
   
 It Had In it, Quite Unconsciously, The     Sacred touch That 'Makes Us 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 15 Pg 278 
 Men.' 
   
   
   
 A Little Later She Was In the     Village, Where A Woman She Knew--One 
 Mary Wilson--Was Dying, A Woman Who Had Been Used to Come Up To Do 
 Charing work At The     Hall, Before The     Last Illness Of     A Bed-Ridden 
 Father Kept Her At Home. Mary Was Still Under Fifty, Plain, Clumsy, 
 And The     Hardest Worker In the     Village. She Lived at The     Outbreak Of 
 War With Her Father And Mother. Her Brother Had Been Killed at 
 Passchendaele, And Mary'S Interest In life Had Vanished with Him. 
 But All Through The     Winter She Had Nursed her Father Night And Day 
 Through A Horrible Illness. Often, As Elizabeth Had Now Discovered, 
 In The     Bitterest Cold Of     The     Winter, She Had Had No Bed but The 
 Flagstones Of     The     Kitchen. Not A Word Of     Complaint--And A Few 
 Shillings For Both Of     Them To Live Upon! 
   
   
   
 At Last The     Father Died. And The     Night He Died mary Staggered across 
 To The     Wretched cottage Of     A Couple Of     Old-Age Pensioners Opposite. 
 'I Must Rest A Bit,' She Said, And Sitting down In a Chair By The 
 Fire She Fainted. Influenza Had Been On Her For Some Days, And Now 
 Pneumonia Had Set In. The     Old People Would Not Hear Of     Her Being 
 Taken Back To Her Deserted cottage. They Gave Up Their Own Room To 
 Her; They Did Everything for Her Their Feeble Strength Allowed. But 
 The Fierce Disease Beat Down Her Small Remaining strength. 
 Elizabeth, Since The     Story Came To Her Knowledge, Had Done Her Best 
 To Help. But It Was Too Late. 
   
   
   
 She Went Now To Kneel At The     Beside Of     The     Dying woman. Mary'S Weary 
 Eyes Lifted, And She Smiled faintly At The     Lady Who Had Been Kind To 
 Her. Then Unconsciousness Returned, And The     Village Nurse Gave It As 
 Her Opinion That The     End Was Near. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Looked round The     Room. Thank God The     Cottage Did Not 
 Belong To The     Squire! The     Bedroom Was About Ten Feet By Seven, With 
 A Sloping thatched roof, Supported by Beams Three Centuries Old. The 
 One Window Was About Two Feet Square. The     Nurse Pointed to It. 
   
   
   
   
 'The Doctor Said No Pneumonia Case Could Possibly Recover In a Room 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 15 Pg 279 
 Like This. And There Are Dozens Of     Them, Miss, In this Village. Oh, 
 Mary Is Glad To Go. She Nursed her Mother For Years, And Then Her 
 Father For Years. She Never Had A Day'S Pleasure, And She Was As 
 Good As Gold.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Held The     Clammy, Misshapen Hand, Pressing her Lips To It 
 When She Rose To Go, As To The     Garment Of     A Saint. 
   
   
   
 Then She Walked quickly Back Through The     Fading spring day, Her 
 Heart Torn With Prayer And Remorse--Remorse That Such A Life As Mary 
 Wilson'S Should Have Been Possible Within Reach Of     Her Own Life And 
 She Not Know It; And Passionate Praying for A Better World, Through 
 And After The     Long Anguish Of     The     War. 
   
   
   
 'Else For What Will These Boys Have Given Their Lives!--What Meaning 
 In The     Suffering and The     Agony!--Or In the     World Which Permits And 
 Begets Them?' 
   
   
   
 Then, At Last, It Was Past Seven O'Clock. The     Dusk Had Fallen, And 
 The Stars Were Coming out In a Pure Pale Blue, Over The     Leafless 
 Trees. Elizabeth And Alice Gaddesden Stood Waiting at The     Open Door 
 Of The     Hall. A Motor Ambulance Was Meeting the     Train. They Would 
 Soon Be Here Now. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Turned to Mrs. Gaddesden. 
   
   
   
 'Won'T You Give A Last Look And See If It Is All Right?' 
   
   
   
 Alice'S Weak, Pretty Face Cleared, As She Went Off To Give A Final 
 Survey To Desmond'S Room. She Admitted that Elizabeth Had Been 
 'Nice' That Day, And All The     Days Before. Perhaps She Had Been 
 Hasty. 
   
   
   
 Lights Among The     Distant Trees! Elizabeth Thought Of     The     Boy Who Had 
 Gone Out From That Door, Two Months Before, In the     Charm And Beauty 
   
 Of His Young Manhood. What Wreck Was It They Were Bringing back? 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 15 Pg 280 
   
   
 Then The     Remembrance Stabbed her Of     That Curt Note From France--Of 
 What Mrs. Gaddesden Had Said. She Withdrew Into The     Background. With 
 All The     Rest To Help, She Would Not Be Wanted. Yes, She Had Been Too 
 Masterful, Too Prominent. 
   
   
   
 Two Motors Appeared, The     Ambulance Motor Behind Another. They Drew 
 Up At The     Side Door Leading direct Through A Small Lobby To The 
 Library, And The     Squire, His Eldest Son, And Captain Chicksands 
 Stepped out--Then Pamela. 
   
   
   
 Pamela Ran Up To Her Sister. The     Girl'S Eyes Were Red with Crying, 
 But She Was Composed. 
   
   
   
 'On The     Whole, He Has Borne The     Journey Well. Where Is Miss 
 Bremerton?' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth, Hearing her Name, Emerged from The     Shadow In which She 
 Was Standing. To Her Astonishment Pamela Threw An Arm Round Her Neck 
 And Kissed her. 
   
   
   
 'Is Everything ready?' 
   
   
   
 'Everything. Will You Come And See?' 
   
   
   
 'Yes. They Won'T Want Us Here.' 
   
   
   
 For The     Lobby Was Small; And Surgeon And Nurses Were Already 
 Standing beside The     Open Door Of     The     Ambulance, The     Surgeon Giving 
 Directions To The     Stretcher-Bearers Of     The     Estate Who Had Been 
 Waiting. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 15 Pg 281 
   
 Pamela Looked at The     Bed, The     Nurses' Table, The     Bare Boards, The 
 Flowers. Her Face Worked pitifully. She Turned to Elizabeth, Who 
 Caught Her In her Arms. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, I Am Glad You Have Put The     Picture Away!' 
   
   
   
 One Deep Sob, And She Recovered herself. 
   
   
   
 'He'S Not Much Disfigured,' She Murmured, 'Only A Cut On The 
 Forehead. Most Of     The     Journey He Has Been Quite Cheerful. That Was 
 The Morphia. But He'S Tired now. They'Re Coming in.' 
   
   
   
 But It Was The     Squire Who Entered--Asking peremptorily For Miss 
 Bremerton. 
   
   
   
 The Well-Known Voice Struck Some Profound Response In elizabeth. She 
 Turned to Him. How Changed, How Haggard, Was The     Aspect! 
   
   
   
 'Martin--That'S The     Surgeon We'Ve Brought With Us--Wants Something 
 From Fallerton At Once. Renshaw'S Here, But He Can'T Be Spared for 
 Telephoning. Come, Please!' 
   
   
   
 But Before She Could Pass Through The     Door, It Was Filled by A 
 Procession. The     Stretcher Came Through, Followed by The     Surgeon And 
 Nurses Who Had Come From France. Elizabeth Caught A Glimpse Of     A 
 White Face And Closed eyes. It Was As Though Something royal And 
 Sacred entered the     Hushed room. She Could Have Fallen On Her Knees, 
 As In a Breton 'Pardon' When The     Host Goes By. 
   
   
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 16 Pg 282 
   
   
   
   
 The Bustle Of     The     Arrival Was Over. The     Doctors Had Given Their 
 Orders, The     Nurses Were At Their Posts For The     Night, And, Under 
 Morphia, Desmond Was Sleeping. In the     Shaded library There Were Only 
 Hushed voices And Movements. By The     Light Of     The     One Lamp, Which Was 
 Screened from The     Bed, One Saw Dimly The     Fantastic Shapes In the 
 Glass Cases Which Lined the     Walls--The Little Tanagra Figures With 
 Their Sun-Hats And Flowing dress--Bronzes Of     Apollo Or Hermes--A 
 Bronze Bull--An Ibex--A Cup Wreathed with Acanthus. And In the 
 Shadow At The     Far End Rose The     Great Nikê. She Seemed to Be Asking 
 What The     White Bed and The     Shrouded figure Upon It Might 
 Mean--Protesting that These Were Not Her Symbols, Or A Language That 
 She Knew. 
   
   
   
 Yet At Times, As The     Light Varied, She Seemed to Take Another 
 Aspect. To Aubrey, Sitting beside His Brother, The     Nikê More Than 
 Once Suggested the     Recollection Of     A Broken Virgin Hanging from A 
 Fragment Of     A Ruined church Which He Remembered on A Bit Of     Road 
 Near Mametz, At Which He Had Seen Passing soldiers Look Stealthily 
 And Long. Her Piteous Arms, Empty Of     The     Babe, Suggested motherhood 
 To Boys Fresh From Home; And There Were Moments When This Hovering 
 Nikê Seemed to Breathe A Mysterious Tenderness Like Hers--Became A 
 Proud And Splendid Angel Of     Consolation--Only, Indeed, To Resume, 
 With Some Fresh Change In the     Shadows, Its Pagan Indifference, Its 
 Exultant Loneliness. 
   
   
   
 The Squire Sat By The     Fire, Staring into The     Redness Of     The     Logs. 
 Occasionally Nurse Or Doctor Would Come And Whisper To Him. He 
 Scarcely Seemed to Hear Them. What Was The     Good Of     Talking? He 
 Knew That Desmond Was Doomed--That His Boy'S Noble Body Was 
 Shattered--And The     End Could Only Be A Question Of     Days--Possibly 
 A Week. During the     First Nights Of     Desmond'S Sufferings, The 
 Squire Had Lived through What Had Seemed an Eternity Of     Torment. 
 Now There Was No More Agony. Morphia Could Be Freely Given--And 
 Would Be Given Till All Was Over. The     Boy'S Young Strength Was 
 Resisting splendidly, A Vitality So Superb Was Hard To Beat; But 
 Beaten It Would Be, By The     Brutality Of     The     Bullet Which Had 
 Inflicted an Internal Injury Past Repair, Against Which The     Energy 
 Of The     Boy'S Youth Might Hold Out For A Few Days--Not More. That 
 Was Why He Had Been Allowed to Bring his Son Home--To Die. If 
   
 There Had Been A Ray, A Possibility Of     Hope, Every Resource Of 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 16 Pg 283 
 Science Would Have Been Brought To Bear On Saving him, There In 
 That Casualty Clearing-Station, Itself A Large Hospital, Where The 
 Squire Had Found Him. 
   
   
   
 All The     Scenes, Incidents, Persons Of     The     Preceding days Were 
 Flowing in one Continuous Medley Through The     Squire'S Mind--The 
 Great Spectacle Of     The     Back Of     The     Army, With All Its Endless 
 Movement, Its Crowded roads And Marching men, The     Hovering 
 Aeroplanes, The     _Camouflaged_ Guns, The     Long Trains Of     Artillery 
 Waggons And Motor-Lorries, Strange Faces Of     Kaffir Boys And Chinese, 
 Grey Lines Of     German Prisoners. And Then, The     Hospital. Nothing very 
 Much Doing, So He Was Told. Yet Hour After Hour The     Wounded came In, 
 Men Shattered by Bomb And Shell And Rifle-Bullet, In the     Daily Raids 
 That Went On Throughout The     Line. And Scarcely A Moan, Scarcely A 
 Word Of     Complaint!--Men Giving up Their Turn With The     Surgeon To A 
 Comrade--'Never Mind Me, Sir--He'S Worse Nor Me!'--Or The     Elder 
 Cheering the     Younger--'Stick It, Young'Un--This'Ll Get You To 
 Blighty Right Enough!'--Or, In the     Midst Of     Mortal Pain, Signing a 
 Field Postcard For The     People At Home, Or Giving a Message To A 
 _Padre_ For Mother Or Wife. Like Some Monstrous Hand, The     Grip Of 
 The War Had Finally Closed upon The     Squire'S Volatile, Recalcitrant 
 Soul. It Was Now Crushing the     Moral And Intellectual Energy In 
 Himself, As It Had Crushed the     Physical Life Of     His Son. For It Was 
 As Though He Were Crouching on Some Bare Space, Naked and Alone, 
 Like A Wounded man Left Behind In a Shell-Hole By His Comrades' 
 Advance. He Was Aware, Indeed, Of     A Mysterious Current Of     Spiritual 
 Force--Patriotism, Or Religion, Or Both In one--Which Seemed to Be 
 The Support Of     Other Men. He Had Seen Incredible, Superhuman Proofs 
 Of It In those Few Hospital Days. But It Was Of     No Use To Him. 
   
   
   
 There Was Only One Dim Glimmer In his Mind--Towards Which At 
 Intervals He Seemed to Be Reaching out. A Woman'S Face--A Woman'S 
 Voice--In Which There Seemed to Be Some Offer Of     Help Or Comfort. He 
 Had Seen Her--She Was Somewhere In the     House. But There Seemed to Be 
 Insuperable Barriers--Closed doors, Impassable Spaces--Between 
 Himself And Her. It Was A Nightmare, Partly The     Result Of     Fatigue 
 And Want Of     Sleep. 
   
   
   
 When He Had First Seen His Son, Desmond Was Unconscious, And The     End 
   
 Was Hourly Expected. He Remembered telegraphing to A Famous Surgeon 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 16 Pg 284 
 At Home To Come Over; He Recalled the     Faces Of     The     Consultants Round 
 Desmond'S Bed, And The     Bald Man With The     Keen Eyes, Who Had Brought 
 Him The     Final Verdict: 
   
   
   
 'Awfully Sorry!--But We Can Do Nothing! He May Live A Little 
 While--And He Has Been Begging and Praying us To Send Him Home. 
 Better Take Him--The Authorities Will Give Leave. I'Ll See To 
 That--It Can'T Do Much Harm. The     Morphia Will Keep Down The 
 Pain--And The     Poor Lad Will Die Happy.' And Then There Was Much Talk 
 Of Plaster Bandages, And Some New Mechanical Appliance To Prevent 
 Jolting--Of The     Surgeon Going home On Leave Who Would Take Charge Of 
 The Journey--Of The     Nurses To Be Sent--And Other Matters Of     Which He 
 Only Retained a Blurred remembrance. 
   
   
   
 The Journey Had Been One Long And Bitter Endurance. And Now Desmond 
 Was Here--His Son Desmond--Lying for A Few Days In that White 
 Bed--Under The     Old Roof. And Afterwards A Fresh Grave In fallerton 
 Churchyard--A Flood Of     Letters Which Would Be Burnt Unread--And A 
 World Without Desmond. 
   
   
   
 Meanwhile, In a Corner Of     The     Hall, Chicksands And Pamela Were 
 Sitting together--Hand In hand. From The     Moment When He Had Gone 
 Down To Folkestone To Meet Them, And Had Seen Pamela'S Piteous And 
 Beautiful Face, As She Followed the     Stretcher On Which Desmond Lay, 
 Across The     Landing-Stage Of     The     Boat, Chicksands' Mind Had Been 
 Suddenly Clear. No Words, Indeed, Except About The     Journey And 
 Desmond Had Passed between Them. But She Had Seen In his Dark Eyes A 
 Sweetness, A Passion Of     Protection And Help Which Had Thawed all The 
 Ice In her Heart, And Freed the     Waters Of     Life. She Was Ashamed of 
 Herself, But Only For A Little While! For In desmond'S Presence All 
 That Concerned herself Passed clean Out Of     Sight And Mind. It Was 
 Not Till She Saw Elizabeth That Remorse Lifted its Head Again; And 
 Whatever Was Delicate And Sensitive In the     Girl'S Nature Revived, 
 Like Scorched grass After Rain. 
   
   
   
 Since The     Hurried, Miserable Meal, In which Elizabeth Had Watched 
 Over Them All, Pamela Had Followed elizabeth About, Humbly Trying to 
 Help Her In the     Various Household Tasks. Then When At Last Elizabeth 
 Had Gone Off To Telephone Some Final Orders To Captain Dell At 
 Fallerton For The     Morning pamela And Arthur Were Left Alone. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 16 Pg 285 
   
   
 He Came Over To Where She Sat, And Drew A Chair Beside Her. 
   
   
   
 'Poor Child!' He Said, Under His Breath--'Poor Child!' 
   
   
   
 She Lifted her Eyes, Swimming in tears. 
   
   
   
 'Isn'T It Marvellous, How She'S Thought Of     Everything--Done 
 Everything?' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Had Not Been In his Mind, But He Understood The     _Amende_ 
 Offered and Was Deeply Touched. 
   
   
   
 'Yes, She'S A Wonderful Creature. Let Her Care For You, Pamela, Dear 
 Pamela!' 
   
   
   
 He Lifted her Hand To His Lips, And Put His Arm Round Her. She Leant 
 Against Him, And He Gently Kissed her Cheek. So Love Came To Them, 
 But In its Most Tragic Dress, Veiled and Dumb, With Haggard Eyes Of 
 Grief. 
   
   
   
 Then Pamela Tried to Tell Him All That She Herself Had Understood Of 
 The Gallant Deed, The     Bit Of     'Observation Work' In the     Course Of 
 Which Desmond Had Received his Wound. He Had Gone Out With Another 
 Subaltern, A Sergeant, And A Telephonist, Creeping by Night Over No 
 Man'S Land To A Large Shell-Hole, Close Upon An Old Crater Where A 
 German Outpost Of     Some Thirty Men Had Found Shelter. They Had 
 Remained there For Forty-Eight Hours--Unrelieved--Listening and 
 Telephoning. Then Having given All Necessary Information To The 
 Artillery Headquarters Which Had Sent Them Out, They Started on The 
 Return Journey. But They Were Seen And Fired on. Desmond Might Have 
 Escaped but For His Determined endeavours To Bring in the     Sergeant, 
 Who Was The     First Of     Them To Fall. A German Sniper Hidden In a 
 Fragment Of     Ruin Caught The     Boy Just Outside The     British Line; He 
 Fell Actually Upon The     Trench. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 16 Pg 286 
   
 Desmond Had Been The     Leader All Through, Said Pamela; His Colonel 
 Said He Was 'The Pluckiest, Dearest Fellow'--He Failed 'In Nothing 
 You Ever Asked him For.' 
   
   
   
 Just Such A Story As Comes Home, Night After Night, And Week After 
 Week, From The     Fighting line! Nothing remarkable In it, Except, 
 Perhaps, The     Personal Quality Of     The     Boy Who Had Sacrificed his 
 Life. Arthur Chicksands, With Three Years Of     The     War Behind Him, 
 Felt That He Knew It By Heart--Could Have Repeated it, Almost In his 
 Sleep, And Each Time With A Different Name. 
   
   
   
 'The Other Lieutenant Who Was With Him,' Said Pamela, 'Told Us He 
 Was In splendid Spirits The     Day Before; And Then At Night, Just 
 Before They Started, Desmond Was Very Quiet, And They Said To Each 
 Other That Whatever Happened that Night They Never Expected to See 
 England Again; And Each Promised the     Other That The     One Who 
 Survived, If Either Did, Would Take Messages Home. Desmond Told Him 
 He Was To Tell Me, If He Was Killed--That He'D "Had A Splendid 
 Life"--And Lived it "_All Out_." "She'S Not To Think Of     It As Cut 
 Short. I'Ve Had It _All_. One Lives Here A Year In a Day." And He'D 
 Only Been Seven Weeks At The     Front! He Said It Was The     Things He'D 
 Seen--Not The     Horrible Things--But The     Glorious Things That Made 
 Him Feel Like That. Now He Did Believe There Was A God--And I Must 
 Believe It Too.' 
   
   
   
 The Tears Ran Down Her Face. Arthur Held The     Quivering hands Close 
 In His; And Through His Soldier'S Mind, Alive With The     Latest And 
 Innermost Knowledge Of     The     War, There Flashed a Terrible Pre-Vision 
 Of The     Weeks To Come, The     Weeks Of     The     Great Offensive, The     Storm Of 
 Which Might Break Any Day--Was Certain, Indeed, To Break Soon, And 
 Would Leave Behind It, Trampled like Leaves Into A Mire Of     Blood, 
 Thousands Of     Lives Like Desmond'S--Britain'S Best And Rarest. 
   
   
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
   
   
 An Hour Later The     Hall Was Deserted, Except For Elizabeth, Who, 
 After Seeing pamela To Bed, Came Down To Write Some Household 
   
 Letters By The     Only Fire. Presently The     Surgeon Who Was Sitting up 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 16 Pg 287 
 With Desmond Appeared, Looking worried. His Countenance Brightened 
 At Sight Of     Elizabeth, With Whom He Had Already Had Much Practical 
 Consultation. 
   
   
   
 'Could You Persuade Mr. Mannering to Go To Bed?' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Rose With Some Hesitation And Followed him Into The 
 Library. The     Great Room, Once So Familiar, Now So Strange, The 
 Nurses In their White Uniforms, Moving silently, One Standing by The 
 Bed, Watch In hand--Major Mannering on The     Farther Side, 
 Motionless--The Smell Of     Antiseptics, The     Table By The     Bed with All 
 Its Paraphernalia Of     Bandages, Cups, Glasses, Medicine Bottles--The 
 Stillness Of     Brooding death Which Held It All--Seemed to Dash From 
 Her Any Last, Blind, Unreasonable Hope That She Might Have 
 Cherished. 
   
   
   
 The Squire Standing by The     Fire, Where He Had Been Opposing a 
 Silent But Impatient Opposition To The     Attempt Of     Doctor And Nurses 
 To Make Him Take Some Rest, Saw Elizabeth Enter. His Eyes Clung To 
 Her As She Approached him. So She _Was_ Near Him--And He Was Not Cut 
 Off From Her. 
   
   
   
 Then The     Surgeon Watched with Astonishment The     Sudden Docility Of     A 
 Man Who Had Already Seemed to Him One Of     The     Most Unmanageable Of 
 Persons. What Spell Had This Woman Exercised? At Any Rate, After A 
 Few Whispered words From Her, The     Squire Bowed his White Head And 
 Followed her Out Of     The     Room. 
   
   
   
 In The     Hall Elizabeth Offered him A Candle, And Begged him To Go To 
 Bed. He Shook His Head, And Pointed to A Chair By The     Dying fire. 
   
   
   
 'That Will Do. Then I Shall Hear--' 
   
   
   
 He Threw Himself Into It. She Brought Him A Rug, For The     Night Was 
 Chilly, And He Submitted. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 16 Pg 288 
   
 Then She Was Going away, For It Was Past Midnight, But Something in 
 His Fixed look, His Dull Suffering, Checked her. She Took An Old 
 Stool And Sat Down Near Him. Neither Spoke, But His Eyes Gradually 
 Turned to Hers, And A Strange Communion Arose Between Them. Though 
 There Were No Words, He Seemed to Be Saying to Her--'My Boy!--My 
 Boy!'--Over And Over Again--And Then--'Stay There!--For God'S Sake, 
 Stay!' 
   
   
   
 And She Stayed. The     Failing lamp Showed her Upturned face, With Its 
 Silent Intensity Of     Pity, Her Hands Clasped round Her Knees, And The 
 Brightness Of     Her Hair. The     Long Minutes Passed. Then Suddenly The 
 Squire'S Eyelids Fell, And He Slept The     Sleep Of     A Man Physically 
 And Mentally Undone. 
   
   
   
 Aubrey Mannering sat By His Brother All Night. With The     First Dawn 
 Desmond Awoke, And There Was An Awful Interval Of     Pain. But A Fresh 
 Morphia Injection Eased it, And Aubrey Presently Saw A Smile--A Look 
 Of The     Old Desmond. The     Nurse Washed the     Boy'S Hands And Face, 
 Brought Him A Cup Of     Tea, Took Pulse And Temperature. 
   
   
   
 'He'S No Worse,' She Said In a Whisper To Aubrey, As She Passed him. 
   
   
   
 Aubrey Went Up To The     Bed. 
   
   
   
 'Aubrey, Old Chap!' Said The     Boy, And Smiled at Him. Then--'It'S 
 Daylight. Can'T I Look Out?' 
   
   
   
 The Nurse And Mannering wheeled his Bed to The     Window, Which Opened 
 To The     Ground. A White Frost Was On The     Grass, And There Was A Clear 
 Sky Through Which The     Sunrise Was Fast Mounting. Along An Eastern 
 Wood Ran A Fiery Rose Of     Dawn, The     Fine Leaf-Work Of     The     Beeches 
 Showing sharply Upon It. There Was A Thrush Singing, And A Robin 
 Came Close To The     Window, Hopped on The     Ledge, And Looked in. 
   
   
   
   
 'Ripping!' Said Desmond Softly. 'There Were Jolly Mornings In france 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 16 Pg 289 
 Too.' Then His Clear Brow Contracted. Aubrey Stooped to Him. 
   
   
   
 'Any News?' Said The     Blanched lips. 
   
   
   
 'None Yet, Old Man. We Shan'T Get The     Papers Till Eight.' 
   
   
   
 'What'S The     Date?' 
   
   
   
 'March 18Th.' 
   
   
   
 Desmond Gave A Long Sigh. 
   
   
   
 'I Would Have Liked to Be In it!' 
   
   
   
 'In The     Big Battle?' Aubrey'S Lip Trembled. 'You Have Done Your Bit, 
 Old Man.' 
   
   
   
 'But How Is It Going to _End_?' Said The     Boy, Moving his Head 
 Restlessly. 'Shall We Win?--Or They? I Shall Live As Long As Ever I 
 Can--Just To Know. I Feel Quite Jolly Now--Isn'T It Strange?--And 
 Yet I Made The     Doctors Tell Me--' 
   
   
   
 He Turned a Bright Look On His Brother, And His Voice Grew 
 Stronger. 'I Had Such A Queer Dream Last Night, Aubrey,--About 
 You--And That Friend Of     Yours--Do You Remember?--You Used to Bring 
 Him Down--To Stay Here--When Pam And I Were Little--Freddy Vivian--' 
   
   
   
 The Boy Looking out Into The     Woods And The     Morning did Not See The 
 Change--The Spasm--In His Brother'S Face. He Continued--'We Kids 
 Liked him Awfully. Well, I Saw Him! I Actually Did. He Stood 
 There--By You. He Was Talking a Lot--I Didn'T Understand--But--' 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 16 Pg 290 
   
 A Sudden Movement. Aubrey Fell On His Knees Beside The     Bed. His Deep 
 Haggard Eyes Stared at His Brother. There Was In them An Anguish, An 
 Eagerness, Scarcely Human. 
   
   
   
 'Desmond!--Can'T You Remember?' 
   
   
   
 The Words Were Just Breathed--Panted. 
   
   
   
 Desmond, Whose Eyes Had Closed again, Smiled faintly. 
   
   
   
 'Why, Of     Course I Can'T Remember. He Had His Hand On Your Shoulder. 
 I Just Thought He Was Cheering you Up--About Something.' 
   
   
   
 'Desmond!--It Was I That Killed him--I Could Have Saved him!' 
   
   
   
 The Boy Opened his Eyes. His Startled look Expressed the     Question He 
 Had Not Strength To Put. 
   
   
   
 Aubrey Bent Over The     Bed, Speaking hurriedly--Under Possession. 'It 
 Was At Neuve Chapelle. I Had Gone Back For Help--He And Ten Or 
 Twelve Others Who Had Moved on Too Fast Were Waiting in a Bit Of 
 Shelter Till I Could Get Some More Men From The     Colonel. The     Germans 
 Were Coming on Thick. And I Went Back. There Was A Barrage On--And 
 On The     Way--I Shirked--My Nerve Went. I Sat Down For Twenty Minutes 
 By My Watch--I Hid--In A Shell-Hole. Then I Went To The     Colonel, And 
 He Gave Me The     Men. And When We Got Up To The     Post, I Was Just A 
 Quarter Of     An Hour Too Late. Vivian Was Lying there Dead--And The 
 Others Had Been Mopped up--Prisoners--By A German Bombing party. It 
 Was I Who Killed vivian. No One Knows.' 
   
   
   
 Aubrey'S Eyes Searched those Of     The     Boy. 
   
   
   
 The Next Moment Mannering was Torn With Poignant Remorse That, Under 
   
 The Sudden Shock Of     That Name, He Should Have Spoken At Last--After 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 16 Pg 291 
 Three Years--To This Dying lad. Crime Added to Crime! 
   
   
   
 'Don'T Think Of     It Any More, Desmond,' He Said Hurriedly, Raising 
 Himself And Laying his Hand On His Brother'S. 'I Oughtn'T To Have 
 Told You.' 
   
   
   
 But Desmond Showed no Answering agitation. 
   
   
   
 'I Did See Him!' He Whispered. 'He Stood There--' His Eyes Turned 
 Towards The     Window. He Seemed to Be Trying to Remember--But Soon 
 Gave Up The     Effort. 'Poor Old Aubrey!' His Feeble Hand Gave A Faint 
 Pressure To His Brother'S. 'Why, It Wasn'T You, Old Fellow!--It Was 
 Your Body.' 
   
   
   
 Aubrey Could Not Reply. He Hid His Face In his Hands. The     Effort Of 
 His Own Words Had Shaken Him From Top To Toe. To No Human Being had 
 He Ever Breathed what He Had Just Told His Young Brother. Life 
 Seemed broken--Disorganized. 
   
   
   
 Desmond Was Apparently Watching the     Passage Of     A Flock Of     White 
 South-Westerly Clouds Across The     Morning sky. But His Brain Was 
 Working, And He Said Presently-- 
   
   
   
 'After I Was Struck, I Hated my Body. I'D--I'D Like To Commit My 
 Spirit To God--But Not My Body!' 
   
   
   
 Then Again--Very Faintly-- 
   
   
   
 'It Was Only Your Body, Aubrey--Not Your Soul. Poor Old Aubrey!' 
 Then He Dozed off Again, With Intervals Of     Pain. 
   
   
   
 At Eight O'Clock Pamela Came In--A Vision Of     Girlish Beauty In spite 
 Of Watching and Tears, In her White Dressing-Gown, The     Masses Of     Her 
   
 Hair Loosely Tied. 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 16 Pg 292 
   
   
   
 She Sat Down By Him, And The     Nurse Allowed her To Give Him Milk And 
 Brandy. Paralysis In the     Lower Limbs Was Increasing, But The     Brain 
 Was Clear, And The     Suffering less. 
   
   
   
 He Smiled at Her, After The     Painful Swallowing was Over. 
   
   
   
 'Why!--You'Re So Like Mother, Pamela!' 
   
   
   
 He Was Thinking of     The     Picture In the     'Den.' She Raised his Hand, 
 And Kissed it--Determined to Be Brave, Not To Break Down. 
   
   
   
 'Where'S Broomie?' He Whispered. 
   
   
   
 'She'D Like To Come And See You, Dezzy. Dezzy, Darling!--I Was All 
 Wrong. She'S Been So Good--Good To Father--Good To All Of     Us.' 
   
   
   
 The Boy'S Eyes Shone. 
   
   
   
 'I Thought So!' He Said Triumphantly. 'Is She Up?' 
   
   
   
 'Long Ago. Shall I Tell Her? I'Ll Ask Nurse.' 
   
   
   
 And In a Few More Minutes Elizabeth Was There. 
   
   
   
 Desmond Had Been Raised a Little On His Pillows, And Flushed at 
 Sight Of     Her. Timidly, He Moved his Hand, And She Laid Hers On It. 
 Then, Stirred by An Impulse That Seemed outside Her Will, She 
 Stooped over Him, And Kissed his Forehead. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 16 Pg 293 
   
   
 'That Was Nice!' He Murmured, Smiling, And Lay For A Little With His 
 Eyes Shut. When He Opened them Again, He Said-- 
   
   
   
 'May I Call You Elizabeth?' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth'S Tender Look And Gesture Answered. He Gazed at Her In 
 Silence, Gathering strength For Some Effort That Was Evidently On 
 His Mind. 
   
   
   
 'Father Minds Awfully,' He Said At Last, His Look Clouding. 'And 
 There'S No One--To--To Cheer Him Up.' 
   
   
   
 'He Loves You So,' Said Elizabeth, With Difficulty, 'He Always Has 
 Loved you So.' 
   
   
   
 The Furrow On His Brow Grew A Little Deeper. 
   
   
   
 'But That Doesn'T Matter Now--Nothing matters But--' 
   
   
   
 After A Minute He Resumed, In a Rather Stronger Voice--'Tell Me 
 About The     Woods--And The     Ash Trees. I Did Laugh Over That--Old Hull 
 Telling you There Were None--And You--Why, I Could Have Shown Him 
 Scores.' 
   
   
   
 She Told Him All The     Story Of     The     Woods, Holding his Hot Hand In her 
 Cool Ones, Damping his Brow With The     Eau-De-Cologne The     Nurses Gave 
 Her, And Smiling at Him. Her Voice Soothed him. It Was So Clear And 
 Yet Soft, Like A Song,--Not A Song Of     Romance Or Passion, But Like 
 The Cheerful Crooning songs That Mothers Sing. And Her Face Reminded 
 Him Even More Of     His Mother Than Pamela'S. She Was Not The     Least 
 Like His Mother, But There Was Something in her Expression That 
 First Youth Cannot Have--Something comforting, Profound, Sustaining. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 16 Pg 294 
   
   
 He Wanted her Always To Sit There. But His Mind Wandered from What 
 She Was Saying after A Little, And Returned to His Father. 
   
   
   
 'Is Father There?' He Asked, Trying to Turn His Head, And Failing. 
   
   
   
 'Not Yet.' 
   
   
   
 'Poor Father! Elizabeth!' He Spoke The     Name With A Boyish Shyness. 
   
   
   
 'Yes!' She Stooped over Him. 
   
   
   
 'You Won'T Go Away?' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Hesitated a Moment, And He Looked distressed. 
   
   
   
 'From Mannering, I Mean. Do Stay, Broomie!'--The Name Slipped out, 
 And In his Weakness He Did Not Notice It--'Pamela Knows--That She 
 Was Horrid!' 
   
   
   
 'Dear Desmond, I Will Do Everything i Can For Pamela.' 
   
   
   
 'And For Father?' 
   
   
   
 'Yes, Indeed--I Will Be All The     Help I Can,' Repeated elizabeth. 
   
   
   
 Desmond Relapsed into Silence And Apparent Sleep. But Elizabeth'S 
 Heart Smote Her. She Felt She Had Not Satisfied him. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 16 Pg 295 
   
   
 But Before Long By The     Mere Natural Force Of     Her Personality, She 
 Seemed to Be The     Leading spirit In the     Sick-Room. Only She Could 
 Lead Or Influence The     Squire, Whose State Of     Sullen Despair 
 Terrified the     Household. The     Nurses And Doctors Depended on Her For 
 All Those Lesser Aids That Intelligence And Love Can Bring to 
 Hospital Service. The     Servants Of     The     House Would Have Worked all 
 Night And All Day For Her And Mr. Desmond. Yet All This Was Scarcely 
 Seen--It Was Only Felt--'A Life, A Presence Like The     Air.' Most Of 
 Us Have Known The     Same Experience--How, When Human Beings Come To 
 The Testing, The     Values Of     A House Change, And How Men And Women, 
 Who Have Been In it As Those Who Serve, Become Naturally And 
 Noiselessly Its Rulers, And Those Who Once Ruled, Their Dependents. 
 It Was So At Mannering. A Tender, Unconscious Sovereignty 
 Established itself; And Both The     Weak And The     Strong Grouped 
 Themselves Round It. 
   
   
   
 Especially Did Elizabeth Seem To Understand The     Tragic Fact That As 
 Death Drew Nearer The     Boy Struggled more Painfully To Live, That He 
 Might Know What Was Happening on The     Battlefield. He Would Have The 
 Telegrams Read To Him Night And Morning. And He Would Lie Brooding 
 Over Them For Long Afterwards. The     Rector Came To See Him, And 
 Desmond Accepted gratefully His Readings And His Prayers. But They 
 Were Scarcely Done Before He Would Turn To Elizabeth, And His Eager 
 Feverish Look Would Send Her To The     Telephone To Ask Arthur 
 Chicksands At The     War Office If Haig'S Mid-Day Telegram Was In--Or 
 Any Fresh News. 
   
   
   
 On The     20Th Of     March, Chicksands, Who Had Been Obliged to Go Back To 
 His Work, Came Down Again For The     Night. Desmond Lay Waiting for 
 Him, And Arthur Saw At Once That Death Was Much Nearer. But The     Boy 
 Had Himself Insisted on Strychnine And Morphia Before The     Visit, And 
 Talked a Great Deal. 
   
   
   
 The Military News, However, That Chicksands Brought Him Disappointed 
 Him Greatly. 
   
   
   
 'Not _Yet_?'--He Said Miserably--'_Not Yet_?'--Breathing his Life 
 Into The     Words, When Chicksands Read Him A Letter From A Staff 
   
 Officer In the     Intelligence Department Describing the     Enormous 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 16 Pg 296 
 German Preparations For The     Offensive, But Expressing the     View--'It 
 May Be Some Days More Before They Risk It!' 
   
   
   
 'I Shall Be Gone Before They Begin!' He Said, And Lay Sombre And 
 Frowning on His Pillows, Till Chicksands Had Beguiled him By Some 
 Letters From Men In desmond'S Own Division Which He Had Taken 
 Special Trouble To Collect For Him. 
   
   
   
 And When The     Boy'S Mood And Look Were Calmer, Arthur Bent Over Him 
 And Gave Him, With A Voice That Must Shake, The     News Of     His Military 
 Cross--For 'Brilliant Leadership And Conspicuous Courage' In the 
 Bit Of     'Observation Work' That Had Cost Him His Life. 
   
   
   
 Desmond Listened with Utter Incredulity And Astonishment. 
   
   
   
 'It'S Not Me!'--He Protested faintly--'It'S A Mistake!' 
   
   
   
 Chicksands Produced the     General'S Letter--The Cross Itself. Desmond 
 Looked at It With Unwilling eyes. 
   
   
   
 'I Call It Silly--Perfectly Silly! Why, There Were Fellows That 
 Deserved it Ten Times More Than I Did!' 
   
   
   
 And He Asked that It Should Be Put Away, And Did Not Speak Of     It 
 Again. 
   
   
   
 In All His Talk With Him That Night, The     Elder Officer Was 
 Tragically Struck By The     Boy'S Growth In intelligence. Just As Death 
 Was Claiming it, The     Young Mind Had Broadened and Deepened--Had 
 Become The     Mind Of     A Man. And In the     Vigil Which He Kept During part 
 Of That Night With Martin, The     Able Young Surgeon Who Had Brought 
 Desmond Home, And Was Spending his Own Hard-Earned leave In easing 
 The Boy'S Death, Chicksands Found That Martin'S Impression Was The 
 Same As His Own. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 16 Pg 297 
   
   
 'It'S Wonderful How He'S Grown And _Thought_ Since He'S Been Out 
 There. But Do We Ever Consider--Do We Ever Realize--Enough!--What A 
 Marvellous Thing it Is That Young Men--Boys--Like Desmond--Should Be 
 Able To Live, Day After Day, Face To Face With Death--Consciously 
 And Voluntarily--And Get Quite Used to It? Which Of     Us Before 
 The War Had Ever Been In real Physical Danger--Danger Of 
 Violent Death?--And That Not For A Few Minutes--But For Days, 
 Hours, Weeks? It Seems To Make Men Over Again--To Create A 
 New Type--By The     Hundred thousand. And To Some Men It Is An 
 Extraordinary Intoxication--This Conscious And Deliberate 
 Acceptance--Defiance!--Of Death--For A Cause--For Their Country. It 
 Sets Them Free From Themselves. It Matures Them, All In a Moment--As 
 Though The     Bud And The     Flower Came Together. Oh, Of     Course, There 
 Are Those It Brutalizes--And There Are Those It Stuns. But Desmond 
 Was One Of     The     Chosen.' 
   
   
   
 The Night Passed. The     Squire Came In after Midnight, And Took His 
 Place By The     Bed. 
   
   
   
 Desmond Was Then Restless And Suffering, And The     Nurse In charge 
 Whispered to The     Squire That The     Pulse Was Growing weaker. But The 
 Boy Opened his Eyes On His Father, And Tried to Smile. The     Squire 
 Sat Bowed and Bent Beside Him, And Nurses And Doctors Withdrew From 
 Them A Little--Out Of     Sight And Hearing. 
   
   
   
 'Desmond!' Said The     Squire In a Low Voice. 
   
   
   
 'Yes.' 
   
   
   
 'Is There Anything i Could Do--To Please You?' It Was A Humble And A 
 Piteous Prayer. Desmond'S Eyes Travelled over His Father'S Face. 
   
   
   
 'Only--Love Me!' He Said, With Difficulty. The     Squire Grew Very 
 White. Kneeling down He Kissed his Son--For The     First Time Since 
 Desmond Was A Child. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 16 Pg 298 
 Desmond'S Beautiful Mouth Smiled a Little. 
   
   
   
 'Thank You,' He Said, So Feebly That It Could Scarcely Be Heard. 
 When The     Light Began To Come In he Moved impatiently, Asking for The 
 Newspapers. Elizabeth Told Him That Old Perley Had Gone To Meet Them 
 At The     Morning train At Fallerton, And Would Be Out With Them At The 
 Earliest Possible Moment. 
   
   
   
 But When They Came The     Boy Turned almost Angrily From Them. 'The 
 Shipping problem--Attacks On British Ports--Raids On The     French 
 Front--Bombardment Of     German Towns--Curfew Regulations'--Pamela'S 
 Faltering voice Read Out The     Headings. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, What Rot!' He Said Wearily--'What Rot!' 
   
   
   
 After That His Strength Ebbed visibly Through The     Morning. 
   
   
   
 Chicksands, Who Must Return To Town In the     Afternoon, Sat With Him, 
 Pamela And Elizabeth Opposite--Alice And Margaret Not Far Away. The 
 Two Doctors Watched their Patient, And Martin Whispered to Aubrey 
 Mannering, Who Had Come Down By A Night Train, That The     Struggle For 
 Life Could Not Last Much Longer. 
   
   
   
 Presently About One O'Clock, Aubrey, Who Had Been Called out Of     The 
 Room, Came Back And Whispered something to Chicksands, Who At Once 
 Went Away. Elizabeth, Looking up, Saw Agitation And Expectancy In 
 The Major'S Look. But He Said Nothing. 
   
   
   
 In A Few Minutes Chicksands Reappeared. He Went Straight To Desmond, 
 And Knelt Down By Him. 
   
   
   
 'Desmond!' He Said In a Clear Voice, 'The Offensive'S Begun. The 
 Chief In my Room At The     War Office Has Just Been Telephoning me. It 
 Began At Eight This Morning--On A Front Of     Fifty Miles. Can You Hear 
 Me?' The     Boy Opened his Eyes--Straining them On Arthur. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 16 Pg 299 
 'It'S Begun!' He Said Eagerly--'Begun! What Have They Done?' 
   
   
   
 'The Bombardment Opened at Dawn--About Five--The German Infantry 
 Attacked about Eight. It'S Been Going on The     Whole Morning--And Down 
 The Whole Front From Arras To The     Scarpe.' 
   
   
   
 'And We'Ve Held?--We'Ve _Held_?' 
   
   
   
 'So Far Magnificently. Our Outpost Troops Have Been Withdrawn To The 
 Battle-Zone--That'S All. The     Line Has Held Everywhere. The     Germans 
 Have Lost Heavily.' 
   
   
   
 'Outpost Troops!' Whispered the     Boy--'Why, That'S Nothing! We Always 
 Expected--To Lose The     First Line. Good Old Army!' 
   
   
   
 A Pause, And Then--So Faintly Breathed as To Be Scarcely Audible, 
 And Yet In ecstasy--'England!--England!' 
   
   
   
 His Joy Was Wonderful--Heart-Breaking--While All Those Around Him 
 Wept. 
   
   
   
 He Lay Murmuring to Himself A Little While, His Hand In pamela'S. 
 Then For A Last Time He Looked at His Father, But Was Now Too Weak 
 To Speak. His Eyes, Intently Fixed on The     Squire, Kept Their 
 Marvellous Brightness--No One Knew How Long. Then Gently, As Though 
 An Unseen Hand Put Out A Light, The     Brilliance Died away--The Lids 
 Fell--And With A Few Breaths Desmond'S Young Life Was Past. 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 17  Pg 300 
   
 It Was Three Weeks After Desmond'S Death. Pamela Was Sitting in the 
 'Den' Writing a Letter To Arthur Chicksands At Versailles. The     First 
 Onslaught On Amiens Was Over. The     Struggle Between Bethune And Ypres 
 Was In full Swing. 
   
   
   
      'Dearest--This House Is So Strange--The World Is So Strange! 
      Oh, If I Hadn'T My Work To Do!--How Could One Bear It? It Seems 
      Wrong And Hateful Even, To Let One'S Mind Dwell On The 
      Wonderful, Wonderful Thing, That You Love Me! The     British Army 
      Retreating--_Retreating_--After These Glorious Years--That Is 
      What Burns Into Me Hour After Hour! Thank God Desmond Didn'T 
      Know! And If I Feel Like This, Who Am Just An Ignorant, 
      Inexperienced girl, What Must It Be For You Who Are Working 
      There, At The     Very Centre, The     News Streaming in on You All The 
      Time?--You Who Know How Much There Is To Fear--But Also How 
      Much There Is To Be Certain Of--To Be Confident Of--That We 
      Can'T Know. Our Splendid, _Splendid_ Men! Every Day I Watch For 
      The     Names I Know In the     Death List--And Some Of     Them Seem To Be 
      Always There. The     Boy--The Other Sub-Lieutenant--Who Was With 
      Desmond When He Was Wounded, Was In the     List Yesterday. 
      Forest'S Boy Is Badly Wounded. The     Old Gardener Has Lost 
      Another Son. Perley'S Boy Is "Missing," And So Is The     Poor 
      Pennington Boy. They Are Heroic--The Penningtons--But Whenever 
      I See Them I Want To Cry.... Oh, I Can'T Write This Any More. 
      I Have Been Writing letters Of     Sympathy All Day. 
   
   
   
      'Dearest, You Would Be Astonished if You Could See Me At This 
      Moment. I Am To-Day A Full Blown Group Leader. Do You Know What 
      That Means? I Have Had A Long Round Among Some Of     Our Farms 
      To-Day--Bargaining with The     Farmers For The     Land-Girls In my 
      Group, And Looking after Their Billets. Yesterday I Spent Half 
      The     Day In "Docking" With Six Or Eight Village Women To Give 
      Them A "Send Off." I Don'T Believe You Know What Docking means. 
      It Is Pretty Hard Work, And At Night I Have A Nightmare--Of 
      Roots That Never Come To An End, And Won'T Pull Out! 
   
   
   
      'You Were Quite Right--It _Is_ My Work. I Was Born In the 
      Country. I Know And Love It. The     Farmers Are Very Nice To 
      Me. They See I Don'T Try To Boss Them As The     Squire'S 
      Daughter--That I'M Just Working as They Are. And I Can Say A 
      Good Deal To Them About The     War, Because Of     Desmond. They All 
      Knew Him And Loved him. Some Of     Them Tell Me Stories About His 
      Pluck Out Hunting as A Little Chap, And Though He Had Been Such 
   
      A Short Time Out In france He Had Written To Two Or Three Of 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 17  Pg 301 
      Them About Their Sons In the     Brookshires. He Had A Heavenly 
      Disposition--Oh, I Wish I Had! 
   
   
   
      'At The     Present Moment I Am In knee-Breeches, Gaiters, And 
      Tunic, And I Have Just Come In. Six O'Clock To Five, Please 
      Sir, With Half-An-Hour For Breakfast And An Hour For Dinner (I 
      Eat It Out Of     A Red handkerchief Under A Hedge). It Was Wet And 
      Nasty, And I Am Pretty Tired. But One Does Not Want To 
      Stop--Because When One Stops One Begins To Think. And My 
      Thoughts, Except For That Shining centre Where You Are, Are So 
      Dark And Full Of     Sorrow. I Miss Desmond Every Hour, And Some 
      Great Monstrous Demon Seems To Be Clutching at Me--At You--At 
      England--Everything one Loves And Would Die For--All Day Long. 
      But Don'T Imagine That I Ever _Doubt_ For One Moment. Not 
      I-- 
   
   
   
           For Right Is Right, Since God Is God, 
           And Right The     Day Must Win; 
           To Doubt Would Be Disloyalty, 
           To Falter Would Be Sin. 
   
   
   
      I Know That'S Not Good Poetry. But I Just Love It--Because It'S 
      Plain And Commonplace, And Expresses Just What Ordinary People 
      Feel And Think. 
   
   
   
      'Oh, Why Was I Such A Fool About Elizabeth! Now That You Are At 
      A Safe Distance--And Of     Course On The     Understanding that You 
      Never, Never Say A Word To Me About It--I Positively Will And 
      Must Confess That I Was Jealous Of     Her About You--Yes, About 
      You, Arthur--Because You Talked to Her About Greek--And About 
      Ash For Aeroplanes--And I Couldn'T Talk About Them. There'S A 
      Nice Nature For You! Hadn'T You Better Get Rid Of     Me While You 
      Can? But The     Thing that Torments Me Is That I Can Never Have It 
      Quite Out With Desmond. I Told Him Lies, Simply. I Didn'T Know 
      They Were Lies, I Suppose; But I Was Too Angry And Too Unjust 
      To Care Whether They Were Or Not. On The     Journey From France I 
      Said A Few Little Words To Him--Just Enough, Thank Heaven! He 
      Was So Sweet To Her In those Last Days--And She To Him. You 
      Know One Side Of     Her _Is_ The     Managing woman--And The     Other 
      (I'Ve Only Found It Out Since Desmond'S Death)--Well, She Seems 
      To Be Just Asking you To Creep Under Her Wings And Be Mothered! 
      She Mothered him, And She Has Mothered me Since He Shut His 
      Dear Eyes For Ever. Oh, Why Won'T She Mother Us All--For Good 
      And All!--Father First And Foremost. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 17  Pg 302 
   
      'I Told You Something about Him Last Time I Wrote, But There Is 
      A Great Deal More To Tell. The     Horrible Thing is That He Seems 
      Not To Care Any More For Any Of     His Old Hobbies. He Sits There 
      In the     Library Day After Day, Or Walks About It For Hours And 
      Hours, Without Ever Opening a Book Or Looking at A Thing. Or 
      Else He Walks About The     Woods--Sometimes Quite Late At Night. 
      Forest Believes He Sleeps Very Little. I Told You He Never Came 
      To Desmond'S Funeral. All Business He Hands Over To Elizabeth, 
      And What She Asks Him He Generally Does. But We All Have Vague, 
      Black Fears About Him. I Know Elizabeth Has. Yet She Is Quite 
      Clear She Can'T Stay Here Much Longer. Dear Arthur, I Don'T 
      Know Exactly What Happened, But I _Think_ Father Asked her To 
      Marry Him, And She Said No. And I Am Tolerably Sure That I 
      Counted for A Good Deal In it--Horrid Wretch That I Am!--That 
      She Thought It Would Make Me Unhappy. 
   
   
   
      'Well, I Am Properly Punished. For If Or When She Goes 
      Away--And You And I Are Married--If There Is To Be Any Marrying 
      Any More In this Awful World!--What Will Become Of     My Father? 
      He Has Been A Terrifying mystery To Me All My Life. Now It Is 
      Not That Any Longer. I Know At Least That He Worshipped 
      Desmond. But I Know Also That I Mean Nothing to Him. I Don'T 
      Honestly Think It Was Much My Fault--And It Can'T Be Helped. 
      And Nobody Else In the     Family Matters. The     Only Person Who Does 
      Matter Is Elizabeth. And I Quite See That She Can'T Stay Here 
      Indefinitely. She Told Me She Promised desmond She Would Stay 
      As Long As She Could. Just At Present, Of     Course, She Is The 
      Mainspring of     Everything on The     Estate. And They Have Actually 
      Made Her This Last Week Vice-Chairman Of     The     County War 
      Agricultural Committee. She Refused, But They _Made_ Her. Think 
      Of     That--A Woman--With All Those Wise Men! She Asked father'S 
      Leave. He Just Looked at Her, And I Saw The     Tears Come Into Her 
      Eyes. 
   
   
   
      'As To Beryl And Aubrey, He Was Here Last Sunday, And She Spent 
      The     Day With Us. He Seems To Lean Upon Her In a New Way--And 
      She Looks Different Somehow--Happier, I Think. He Told Me, The 
      Day After Desmond Died, That Dezzy Had Said Something to Him 
      That Had Given Him Courage--"Courage To Go On," I Think He 
      Said. I Didn'T Ask Him What He Meant, And He Didn'T Tell Me. 
      But I Am Sure He Has Told Beryl, And Either That--Or Something 
      Else--Has Made Her More Confident In herself--And About Him. 
      They Are To Be Married quite Soon. Last Week Father Sent Him, 
      Without A Word, A Copy Of     His Will. Aubrey Says It Is Very 
      Fair. Mannering goes To Him, Of     Course. You Know That Elizabeth 
      Refused to Witness The     Codicil Father Wrote Last October 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 17  Pg 303 
      Disinheriting aubrey, When He Was So Mad With Sir Henry? It Was 
      The     First Thing that Made Father Take Real Notice Of     Her. She 
      Had Only Been Six Weeks Here! 
   
   
   
      'Good-Night, My Dearest, Dearest Arthur! Don'T Be Too Much 
      Disappointed in me. I Shall Grow Up Some Day.' 
   
   
   
 A Few Days Later The     Squire Came Back From Fallerton To Find Nobody 
 In The     House, Apparently, But Himself. He Went Through The     Empty 
 Hall And The     Library, And Shut Himself Up There. He Carried an 
 Evening paper Crumpled in his Hand. It Contained a Detailed report 
 Of The     Breaking of     The     Portuguese Centre Near Richebourg St. Vaast 
 On April 10, And The     Consequent Retreat, Over Some Seven Miles, 
 Since That Day Of     The     British Line, Together With The     More Recent 
 News Of     The     Capture Of     Armentières And Merville. Sitting down At His 
 Own Table He Read The     Telegrams Again, And Then In the     Stop-Press 
 Sir Douglas Haig'S Order Of     The     Day-- 
   
   
   
 '_There Is No Other Course Open To Us But To Fight It Out. Every 
 Position Must Be Held To The     Last Man: There Must Be No Retirement. 
 With Our Backs To The     Wall, And Believing in the     Justice Of     Our 
 Cause, Each One Of     Us Must Fight To The     End. The     Safety Of     Our Homes 
 And The     Freedom Of     Mankind Depend Alike Upon The     Conduct Of     Each One 
 Of Us At This Critical Moment._' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Read And Re-Read The     Words. He Was Sitting close To The 
 Tall French Window Where Through Some Fine Spring days Desmond Had 
 Lain, His Half-Veiled eyes Wandering over The     Woods And Green Spaces 
 Which Had Been His Childhood'S Companions. There--Submissive For 
 Himself, But, For England'S Sake, And So That His Mind Might Receive 
 As Long As Possible The     Impress Of     Her Fate, An Ardent Wrestler With 
 Death Through Each Disputed hour--He Had Waited; And There, With The 
 Word _England_ On His Lips, He Had Died. The     Squire Could Still See 
 The Marks Made On The     Polished floor By The     Rolling backward Of     The 
 Bed at Night. And On The     Wall Near There Was A Brown Mark On The 
 Wall-Paper. He Remembered that It Had Been Made By A Splash From A 
   
 Bowl Of     Disinfectant, And That He Had Stared at It One Morning in a 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 17  Pg 304 
 Dumb Torment Which Seemed endless, Because Desmond Had Woke In pain 
 And The     Morphia Was Slow To Act. 
   
   
   
 _England_! His Boy Was Dead--And His Country Had Its Back To The 
 Wall. And He--What Had He Done For England, All These Years Of     Her 
 Struggle? His Carelessness, His Indifference Returned upon Him--His 
 Mad And Selfish Refusal, Day By Day, To Give His Mind, Or His Body, 
 Or His Goods, To The     Motherland That Bore Him. 
   
   
   
 '_Is It Nothing to You, All Ye That Pass By?_' 
   
   
   
 No--It Had Been Nothing to Him. But Desmond, His Boy, Had Given 
 Everything. And The     Death-Struggle Was Still Going on. '_Each One Of 
 Us Must Fight On To The     End._' Before His Eyes There Passed the 
 Spectacle Of     The     Army, As He Had Actually Seen It--A Division, For 
 Instance, On The     March Near The     Salient, Rank After Rank Of     Young 
 Faces, The     Brown Cheeks And Smiling eyes, The     Swing of     The     Lithe 
 Bodies. And While He Sat There In the     Quiet Of     The     April Evening, 
 Thousands Of     Boys Like Desmond Were Offering those Same Lithe Bodies 
 To The     Kaiser'S Guns Without Murmur Or Revolt Because England Asked 
 It. Now He Knew What It Meant--_Now He Knew_! 
   
   
   
 There Was A Knock At The     Door, And The     Sound Of     Something heavy 
 Descending. The     Squire Gave A Dull 'Come In.' Forest Entered, 
 Dragging a Large Bale Behind Him. He Looked nervously At His Master. 
   
   
   
 'These Things Have Just Come From France, Sir.' 
   
   
   
 The Squire Started. He Walked over In silence To Look While Forest 
 Opened the     Case. Desmond'S Kit, His Clothes, His Few Books, A 
 Stained uniform, A Writing-Case, With A Number Of     Other 
 Miscellaneous Things. 
   
   
   
 Forest Spread Them Out On The     Floor, His Lips Trembling. On Several 
   
 Nights Before The     End Desmond Had Asked for Him, And He Had Shared 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 17  Pg 305 
 The Squire'S Watch. 
   
   
   
 'That'Ll Do,' Said The     Squire Presently; 'I'Ll Look Over Them 
 Myself!' 
   
   
   
 Forest Went Away. After Shutting the     Door He Saw Elizabeth Coming 
 Along The     Library Passage, And Stopped to Speak To Her. 
   
   
   
 'The Things Have Just Come From France, Miss,' He Said In a Low 
 Voice. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Hesitated, And Was Turning back, When The     Library Door 
 Opened and The     Squire Called her. 
   
   
   
 'Yes, Mr. Mannering.' 
   
   
   
 'Will You Come Here, Please, A Moment?' 
   
   
   
 She Entered the     Room, And The     Squire Closed the     Door Behind Her, 
 Pointing mutely To The     Things On The     Floor. 
   
   
   
 The Tears Sprang To Her Eyes. She Knelt Down To Look At Them. 
   
   
   
 'Do You Remember Anything about This?' He Said, Holding out A Little 
 Book. It Was The     Pocket Anthology She Had Found For Desmond On The 
 Day Of     His Going into Camp. As She Looked through It She Saw A 
 Turned-Down Leaf, And Seemed still To Hear The     Boy'S Voice, As He 
 Hung Over Her Shoulder Translating the     Epigram-- 
   
   
   
 '_Shame On You, Mountains And Seas!_' 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 17  Pg 306 
 With A Swelling throat She Told The     Story. The     Squire Listened, And 
 When Afterwards She Offered the     Book To Him Again, He Put It Back 
 Into Her Hand, With Some Muttered words Which She Interpreted as 
 Bidding her Keep It. 
   
   
   
 She Put It Away In the     Drawer Of     Her Writing-Table, Which Had Been 
 Brought Back To Its Old Place Only That Morning. The     Squire Himself 
 Went To His Own Desk. 
   
   
   
 'Will You Sit There?' He Pointed to Her Chair. 'I Want To Speak To 
 You.' 
   
   
   
 Then After A Pause He Added slowly, 'Will You Tell Me--What You 
 Think I Can Now Do With My Time?' 
   
   
   
 His Voice Had A Curious Monotony--Unlike Its Usual Tone. But 
 Elizabeth Divined a Coming crisis. She Went Very White. 
   
   
   
 'Dear Mr. Mannering--I Don'T Know What To Say--Except That The 
 Country Seems To Want Everything that Each One Of     Us Can Do.' 
   
   
   
 'Have You Read Haig'S Order Of     The     Day?' 
   
   
   
 'Yes, I Have Just Read It.' 
   
   
   
 The Squire'S Eyes, Fixed upon Her, Had A Strange Intensity. 
   
   
   
 'You And I Have Never Known--Never Dreamt--Of Anything like This.' 
   
   
   
 'No--Never. But England Has Had Her Back To The     Wall Before!' 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 17  Pg 307 
   
 She Sat Proudly Erect, Her Hands Quietly Crossed. But He Seemed to 
 Hear The     Beating of     Her Heart. 
   
   
   
 'You Mean When Pitt Said, "Roll Up The     Map Of     Europe"? Yes--That Too 
 Was Vital. But The     People At Home Scarcely Knew It--And It Was Not A 
 War Of     Machines.' 
   
   
   
 'No Matter! England Will Never Yield.' 
   
   
   
 'Till Germany Is On Her Knees?' His Long Bony Face, More Lined, More 
 Emaciated than Ever, Seemed to Catch A Sombre Glow From Hers. 
   
   
   
 'Yes--Though It Last Ten Years! But The     Americans Are Hurrying.' 
   
   
   
 'Are All Women Like You?' 
   
   
   
 Her Mouth Trembled into Scorn. 
   
   
   
 'Oh, Think Of     The     Women Whose Shoe-Strings I Am Not Worthy To 
 Unloose!--The Nurses, The     French Peasant-Women, The     Women Who Have 
 Given Their Husbands--Their Sons.' 
   
   
   
 His Look Showed his Agitation. 
   
   
   
 'So We Are To Be Saved--By Boys Like Desmond--And Women Like You?' 
   
   
   
 'Oh, I Am A Cypher--A Nothing!' There Was A Passionate Humiliation 
 In Her Voice. 'I Should Be Nursing in france--' 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 17  Pg 308 
 'If It Weren'T For Your Mother And Your Sister?' 
   
   
   
 She Nodded. There Was A Pause. Then The     Squire Said, In a Different 
 Tone, 
   
   
   
 'But You Have Not Answered my Question. I Should Be Obliged if You 
 Would Answer It. How Am I, Being i--How Is A Man Of     My Kind To Fill 
 His Time--And Live His Life? If The     Country Is In deadly Peril--If 
 The Ground Is Shaking beneath Our Feet--If We Are To Go On Fighting 
 For Years, With "Our Backs To The     Wall," Even I Can'T Go On 
 Cataloguing greek Vases. I Acknowledge That Now. So Much I Grant 
 You. But What Else Am I Good For?' 
   
   
   
 The Colour Flushed in her Fair Skin, And Her Eyes Filled again With 
 Tears. 
   
   
   
 'Come And Help!' She Said Simply. 'There Is So Much To Do. And For 
 You--A Large Landowner--There Is Everything to Do.' 
   
   
   
 His Face Darkened. 
   
   
   
 'Yes, If I Had The     Courage For It. But Morally I Am A Weakling--You 
 Know It. Do You Remember That I Once Said To You If Desmond Fell, I 
 Should Go With Him--Or After Him?' 
   
   
   
 She Waited a Moment Before Replying, And Then Said With Energy, 
 'That Would Be Just Desertion!--_He_ Would Tell You So.' 
   
   
   
 Their Eyes Met, And The     Passion In hers Subdued him. It Was A 
 Strange Dialogue, As Though Between Two Souls Bared and Stripped of 
 Everything but The     Realities Of     Feeling. 
   
   
   
 'Would It Be? That Might Be Argued. But Anyway I Should Have Done 
 It--The Very Night Desmond Died--But For You!' 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 17  Pg 309 
   
 'For Me?' She Said, Shading her Eyes With A Hand That Trembled. 'No, 
 Mr. Mannering, You Could Not Have Done Such A Thing!--For Your 
 Honour'S Sake--For Your Children'S Sake.' 
   
   
   
 'Neither Would Have Restrained me. I Was Held To Life By One 
 Thread--One Hope Only--' 
   
   
   
 She Was Silent. 
   
   
   
 '--The Hope That If I Was To Put My Whole Life To School Again--To 
 Burn What I Had Adored, And Adore What I Had Burned--The One Human 
 Being in the     World Who Could Teach Me Such A Lesson--Who Had Begun 
 To Teach It Me--Would Stand By Me--Would Put Her Hand In mine--And 
 Lead Me.' 
   
   
   
 His Voice Broke Down. Elizabeth, Shaken From Head To Foot, Could 
 Only Hide Her Face And Wait. Even The     Strength To Protest--'Not 
 Now!--Not Yet!' Seemed to Have Gone From Her. He Went On Vehemently: 
   
   
   
 'Oh, Don'T Imagine That I Am Making you An Ordinary Proposal--Or 
 That I Am Going to Repeat To You The     Things I Said To You--Like A 
 Fool--In Cross Wood. Then I Offered you A Bargain--And I See Now 
 That You Despised me As A Huckster! You Were To Help My Hobby; I Was 
 To Help Yours. That Was All I Could Find To Say. I Didn'T Know How 
 To Tell You That All The     Happiness Of     My Life Depended on Your 
 Staying at Mannering. I Was Unwilling to Acknowledge It Even To 
 Myself. I Have Been Accustomed to Put Sentiment Aside--To Try And 
 Ignore It. To _Feel_ As I Did Was Itself So Strange A Thing to Me, 
 That I Struggled to Express It As Prosaically As Possible. Well, 
 Then, You Were Astonished--And Repelled. That I Saw--I Realized it 
 Indeed more And More. I Saw That I Had Perhaps Done A Fatal Thing, 
 And I Spent Much Time Brooding and Thinking. I Felt An Acute 
 Distress, Such As I Had Never Felt In my Life Before--So Much So 
 That I Began Even To Avoid You, Because I Used to Say To 
 Myself--"She Will Go Away Some Day--Perhaps Soon--And I Must 
 Accustom Myself To It." And Yet--' 
   
   
   
 He Lifted the     Hand That Shaded his Eyes, And Gave Her A Long 
 Touching look. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 17  Pg 310 
   
 'Yet I Felt Sometimes That You Knew What Was Happening in me--And 
 Were Sorry For Me. Then Came The     News Of     Desmond. Of     Those Days 
 While He Lay Here--Of The     Days Since--I Seem To Know Now Hardly 
 Anything in detail. One Of     The     Officers At The     Front Said To Me That 
 On The     Somme He Often Lost All Count Of     Time, Of     The     Days Of     The 
 Week, Of     The     Sequence Of     Things. It Seemed to Be All One 
 Present--One Awful And Torturing _Now_. So It Is With Me. Desmond Is 
 Always Here'--He Pointed to The     Vacant Space By The     Window--'And You 
 Are Always Sitting by Him. And I Know That If You Go Away--And I Am 
 Left Alone With My Poor Boy--Though I Shall Never Cease To Hear The 
 Things He Said To Me--The Things He Asked me To Do--I Shall Have No 
 Strength To Do Them. I Cannot Rise And Walk--Unless You Help Me.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Could Hardly Speak. She Was In presence Of     That Tremendous 
 Thing in human Experience--The Emergence Of     A Man'S Inmost Self. 
 That The     Squire Could Speak So--Could Feel So--That The     Man Whose 
 Pupil And Bond-Slave She Had Been In those Early Weeks Should Be 
 Making this Piteous Claim Upon Her, Throwing upon Her The     Weight Of 
 His Whole Future Life, Of     His Sorrow, Of     His Reaction Against 
 Himself, Overwhelmed her. It Appealed to That Instinctive, That 
 Boundless Tenderness Which Lies So Deep In the     True Woman. 
   
   
   
 But Her Will Seemed paralysed. She Did Not Know How To Act--She 
 Could Find No Words That Pleased her. The     Squire Saw It, And Began 
 To Speak Again In the     Same Low Measured voice, As Though He Groped 
 His Way Along, From Point To Point. He Sat With His Eyes On The 
 Floor, His Hands Loosely Clasped before Him. 
   
   
   
 'I Don'T, Of     Course, Dare To Ask You To Say--At Once--If You Will Be 
 My Wife. I Dread To Ask It--For I Am Tolerably Certain That You 
 Would Still Say No. But If Only Now You Would Say, "I Will Go On 
 With My Work Here--I Will Help A Man Who Is Weak Where I Am 
 Strong--I Will Show Him New Points Of     View--Give Him New Reasons For 
 Living--"' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Could Only Just Check The     Sobs In her Throat. The     Sad 
 Humility Of     The     Words Pierced her Heart. 
   
   
   
   
 The Squire Raised himself A Little, And Spoke More Firmly. 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 17  Pg 311 
   
   
 'Why Should There Be Any Change Yet Awhile? Only Stay With Us. Use 
 My Land--Use Me And All I Possess--For The     Country--For What Desmond 
 Would Have Helped in--And Done. Show Me What To Do. I Shall Do It 
 Ill. But What Matter? Every Little Helps. "We Have Our Backs To The 
 Wall." I Have The     Power To Give _You_ Power. Teach Me.' 
   
   
   
 Then Reaching out, He Took Her Hand In his. His Voice Deepened and 
 Strengthened. 
   
   
   
 'Elizabeth!--Be My Friend--My Children'S Friend. Bring your Poor 
 Mother Here--And Your Sister--Till Pamela Goes. Then Tell Me--What 
 You Decide. You Shall Give Me No Pledge--No Promise. You Shall Be 
 Absolutely Free. But Together Let Us Do A Bit Of     Work, A Bit Of 
 Service.' 
   
   
   
 She Looked up. The     Emotion, The     Sweetness In her Face Dazzled him. 
   
   
   
 'Yes,' She Said Gravely--'I Will Stay.' 
   
   
   
 He Drew A Long Breath, And Stooping over The     Hands She Had Given 
 Him, He Kissed them. 
   
   
   
 Then He Released her And, Rising, Walked away. The     Portrait Of 
 Desmond Had Been Brought Back, But It Stood With Its Face To The 
 Wall. He Went To It And Turned it. It Shone Out Into The     Room, Under 
 The Westering sun. He Looked at It A Little--While Elizabeth With 
 Trembling fingers Began To Re-Arrange Her Table In the     Old Way. 
   
   
   
 Then He Returned to Her, Speaking in the     Dry, Slightly Peremptory 
 Voice She Knew Well. 
   
   
   
 'I Hear The     New Buildings At The     Holme Hill Farm Are Nearly Ready. 
 Come And Look At Them To-Morrow. And There Are Some Woods Over There 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 17  Pg 312 
 That Would Be Worth Examining. The     Air Board Is Still Clamouring for 
 More Ash.' 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Agreed. Her Smile Was A Gleam Through The     Mist. 
   
   
   
 'And, On The     Way Back, Pamela And I Must Go And Talk To The 
 Village--About Pigs And Potatoes!' 
   
   
   
 'Do You Really Know Anything about Either?' He Asked, Incredulously. 
   
   
   
 'Come And Hear Us!' 
   
   
   
 There Was Silence. The     Squire Threw The     Window Open To The     April 
 Sunset. The     Low Light Was Shining through The     Woods, And On The 
 Reddening tops Of     The     Beeches. There Was A Sparkle Of     Leaf Here And 
 There, And Already A 'Livelier Emerald' Showed in the     Grass. 
 Suddenly A Low Booming sound--Repeated--And Repeated. 
   
   
   
 'Guns?' Said The     Squire, Listening. 
   
   
   
 Elizabeth Reminded him Of     The     New Artillery Camp Beyond Fallerton. 
   
   
   
 But The     Sounds Had Transformed the     April Evening. The     Woods, The 
 Grass, The     Wood-Pigeons In the     Park Had Disappeared. The     Thoughts Of 
 Both The     On-Lookers Had Gone Across The     Sea To That Hell Of     Smoke 
 And Fire, In which Their Race--In Which England!--Stood At Bay. A 
 Few Days--Or Weeks--Or Months, Would Decide. 
   
   
   
   
 The Vastness Of     The     Issue, As It Came Flooding in upon The     Soul Of 
 
 
 
 Book Name ( Elizabeth'S Campaign  ) Part 10  Chapter 17  Pg 313 
 Elizabeth, Seemed to Strain Her Very Life--To Make Suspense 
 Unbearable. 
   
   
   
 An Anguish Seized her, And Unconsciously Her Lips Framed the 
 Passionate Words Of     An Older Patriotism-- 
   
   
   
 'Oh! Pray--_Pray For The     Peace Of     Jerusalem! They Shall Prosper That 
 Love Thee!_' 
   
   
   
 
 
 Publication Date: June 11th 2014 https://www.bookrix.com/-whdbd538e463635