The Saint and the Sinner by Barbara Cartland Page A

figure who, like God, was supposed to care for us all!” the Earl retorted violently. “But neither the Earl nor God cared a damn!”
    Pandora made a little sound but did not speak.
    “My father died in agony and unnecessarily,” the Earl went on. “He was still virtually a young man, and the operation was not a very difficult one, but it was absolutely essential if he were to stay alive.”
    “Are you sure that Grandpapa refused to – help you?”
    “He wrote me the most charming letter,” the Earl answered sarcastically. “He enclosed ten pounds – ten pounds – and told me I would get no more out of him in any circumstances.”
    He flung himself down in a chair as if he was almost exhausted by the violence with which he had spoken.
    “I – am sorry –” Pandora began to say, then she gave a little cry.
    “When did your father die?”
    “In 1815.”
    “After Waterloo!”
    “I believe that memorable event happened in the same year,” the Earl sneered.
    “I remember – now I remember exactly what happened,” Pandora said, “but of course I had no idea that it was your father.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “I came in from riding and Mama was talking to Papa. She seemed very upset. ‘What has happened, Mama?’ I asked.
    “‘It does not concern you, darling,’ she replied, ‘but your grandfather was in one of his black moods today. He has been a different man since poor George was killed.’
    “‘I know that,’ I answered.
    “Mama looked at my father. ‘Charles,’ she said, ‘I have done a terrible thing.
    “‘What have you done?’ he enquired.
    “‘I have stolen five pounds,
    “‘Stolen?’
    “I could see that even Papa was surprised.
    “‘Father has received a letter from one of the Chartwood cousins,’ Mama explained. ‘I do not think I have ever met him, but he wrote to say that his father was desperately ill and needed an operation.’
    “She paused as if the memory of the letter upset her, and Papa said sympathetically: ‘Go on, darling. I wish you did not have to cope with all these things.’
    “‘There is no-one else now,’ Mama said, and I knew that they were both thinking of Uncle George.
    “‘I suggested to Father,’ she continued, ‘that he should send the cousin the money he needed, but Father would not listen.’
    “‘Give him five pounds and tell him to go to the devil!’ he said.
    “Mama gave a little cry. ‘He would never have said anything like that in the old days, but when I tried to argue with him he would not listen.’
    “‘So where does your thieving come in?’ Papa asked.
    “‘You will think it very reprehensible of me,’ Mama answered, ‘but I took it out of the housekeeping! Father gives me money with which to pay the servants and the bills without asking too many questions. I am sure he will never notice it’
    “‘So you sent your cousin ten pounds?’
    “‘Which will not be enough,’ Mama said with a sigh. ‘Oh, Charles, I wish we were rich. There are so many people I would like to help.’
    “‘You do more than enough already,’ Papa answered, and kissed her.
    “‘It worries me - it really worries me,’ she murmured.
    “‘If it does that,’ Papa replied, ‘I will do something about it. Find out the address of your cousin and I will go and see him.
    “‘Would you really, Charles? That would be so kind. I cannot bear to think of him suffering and none of us being able to help.
    “‘Bring me his address,’ Papa answered.”
    Pandora looked at the Earl and saw that he was listening intently.
    “If Papa could have found you,” she said, “he would – I am sure he would – have found some way to help your father. But I heard Mama tell him the next day that Grandpapa in a temper had thrown the letter in the fire.”
    She paused.
    “I did not think of it until now, but of course he did that because Uncle George had been killed and your father was heir to the title.”
    She looked at the Earl and