Part 2 (1/2)
”And meanwhile,” said Jim, ”we'll all go down to Fuller's and have morning tea. One thing, young Norah, you won't find a Fuller's in Cunjee!”
”Why would I be trying?” Norah asked cheerfully. ”Sure isn't there Brownie at Billabong?”
”Hear, hear!” agreed Wally. ”When I think of Brownie's pikelets----”
”Or Brownie's scones,” added Norah. ”Or her sponge-cakes.”
”Or Brownie's tea-pot, as large and as brown as herself,” said Mr.
Linton--”then London is a desert. But we'll make the best of it for the present. Come along to Fuller's.”
CHAPTER II
THE HOME FOR TIRED PEOPLE
”To begin with,” said Jim--”what's the place like?”
”Eighty acres, with improvements,” answered his father. ”And three farms--all let.”
”Daddy, you're like an auctioneer's advertis.e.m.e.nt,” Norah protested.
”Tell us what it is _like_--the house, I mean.”
”We'll run down and see it soon,” said Mr. Linton. ”Meanwhile, the lawyers tell me it's a good house, Queen Anne style----”
”What's that?” queried Jim.
”Oh, gables and things,” said Wally airily. ”Go on, sir, please.”
”Standing in well-timbered park lands,” said Mr. Linton, fis.h.i.+ng a paper out of his pocket, and reading from it. ”Sorry, Norah, but I can't remember all these thrills without the lawyers' letter. Lounge hall, four reception rooms----”
”Who are you going to receive, Nor?”
”Be quiet,” said Norah, aiming a cus.h.i.+on at the offender. ”Not you, if you're not extra polite!”
”Be quiet, all of you, or I will discontinue this penny reading,” said Mr. Linton severely. ”Billiard-room, thirteen bedrooms, three baths (h. and c.)----”
”Hydraulic and condensed,” murmured Wally. Jim sat upon him with silent firmness, and the reading was unchecked.
”Excellent domestic offices, modern drainage, central heating, electric plant, Company's water----”
”What on earth----?” said Jim.
”I really don't know,” said his father. ”But I suppose it means you can turn taps without fear of a drought, or they wouldn't put it.
Grounds including shady old-world gardens, walled kitchen garden, stone-flagged terrace, lily pond, excellent pasture. Squash racquet court.”
”What's that?” asked Norah.
”You play it with pumpkins,” came, m.u.f.fled, from beneath Jim. ”Let me up, Jimmy--I'll be good.”