The Diary Of Pamela D. Read Online Free PDF

Dewhurst in the middle, and Theo on the
right. Within moments they were on the motorway heading north on
the three-hour drive to the Dewhurst’s place in Yorkshire.
    Pamela spent most of the time looking out the
window, watching the countryside go by. The weather was dark and
dismal, mixed rain and snow falling incessantly, and Pamela found
that her mood was beginning to reflect this condition until Mrs.
Dewhurst finally noticed and put an arm around her.
    ‘My dear, I am sorry! What was I
thinking? You must be terminally bored. I don’t know whether you
noticed it or not, what with this infernal weather and all, but we
crossed the border into Yorkshire almost ten minutes ago. You know
you’re in Yorkshire when you see all these low, rolling hills and
flocks of sheep. There are moors in Yorkshire as well. If you ever
want to see something truly bleak, take a good, long look at our
gorse-infested moors in the dead of winter!’ She noticed that
Pamela was watching a passing village with frank wonder.
    ‘It looks so old-fashioned! Are they all like
that?’
    Mrs. Dewhurst smiled broadly. ‘Most
assuredly! You are in a very old-fashioned corner of the world,
Pamela Dee! Some of those cottages were built when your colonial
ancestors in North America were still traipsing about the bush,
forging a new life for themselves while trying their utmost to
avoid being scalped!’
    This remark had the unintended effect of
making Pamela feel even more isolated. She had no knowledge
whatever of her family’s past, and knew almost nothing about the
country, area and city she had lived in all her life. Her past was
as blank as though he had no memory. Even her name, she mused. It
sounded for all the world like an initial that should have stood
for something but didn’t, as though some careless ancestor had lost
her identity for her before she was born.
    ‘And here were are!’ Mrs. Dewhurst said
suddenly and unexpectedly, dispelling the girl’s bleak mood like a
burst bubble. ‘Dewhurst Manor, the ancestral home of the Dewhurst
family. Hasn’t moved an inch in over three hundred years, and looks
it.’
    Pamela could only gape. ‘I .
. . I thought you said we were going to a house !’
    Even Theo couldn’t suppress a chuckle.
    ‘My dear Pamela,’ Mrs.
Dewhurst said, ‘that is a house. Don’t look so overwhelmed! There’s nothing in it that
you haven’t seen before. The bedrooms have beds and dressing
tables, the dining room has a table and chairs, the kitchen looks
much like kitchens everywhere, the floors are made of wood and
covered with carpet in places; there’s just more of everything, that’s all. Don’t
worry. You’ll get used to it soon enough. Too soon, if you ask me. But come,
here we are. Come and get your first look at your new
home.’
    As they coasted down the long drive, Pamela’s
eyes were filled with a vision of close-fitting grey stone, black
slate roofs and bevelled, leaded glass. Beyond the house was what
appeared to be a tiny village, but was in fact a number of farm
buildings with thatched roofs. In the distance were rolling
pastures dotted with sheep, some sort of shaggy cattle and a few
horses. The various fields were separated by unmortared stone
walls, and she could see as they approached the house that a pond
or small lake lay behind it.
    They were met at the door by a middle-aged
woman dressed in what was obviously an old-fashioned maid’s attire.
She turned a baffled gaze upon Pamela until Mrs. Dewhurst spoke
up.
    ‘Susan, I would like you to
meet your new workmate.’ The woman smiled and, to Pamela’s amused
astonishment, curtsied. ‘You may as well get her settled in, first.
She has had a long journey, and will no doubt find our ways
somewhat incomprehensible, unless they are explained to her, which
I am sure you will do at great length. When you have shown her
where she is to sleep, take her to the kitchens, and by all
means feed her.
While you are doing so, you might provide her with