aps. 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.

'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.

'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 liv