And now Miss Bremerton was to do the housekeeping, and to play tutor 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. '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.'