Elizabeth's Campaign Part 26

Elizabeth looked up astonished.

'Am I to put that down?'

The Squire threw away the book he was holding. His s.h.i.+ning 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.'

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. Leva.s.seur?' suggested Elizabeth.

'Leva.s.seur 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. n.o.body 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!'

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 embarra.s.sing.

'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 grat.i.tude--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!'

'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 pa.s.sion 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?'

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.