'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.' 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.' '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.