Part 8 (1/2)

Norah had a sudden vision of the three small Hunts ”who made rather more noise than a regiment” rampaging round the hara.s.sed mother as she tried to write.

”Perhaps it's as well--we'll study the cottage, and make sure that it's all right for them,” said her father. ”Then we'll kidnap them.

Meanwhile we'll go and send them a big hamper of fruit, and put some sweets in for the babies.” A plan which was so completely after Norah's heart that she quite forgot her disappointment.

CHAPTER IV

SETTLING IN

They bade good-bye to the flat early next morning and went down to Homewood through a dense fog that rolled up almost to the carriage windows like ma.s.ses of white wool. At the station the closed carriage waited for them, with the brown cobs pawing the ground impatiently.

General Somers' chauffeur had gone with his master, and so far they had not succeeded in finding a subst.i.tute, but the groom and coachman, who were also gardeners in their spare time, considered themselves part and parcel of the place, and had no idea of changing their home.

”The cart for the luggage will be here presently, sir,” Jones, the old coachman, told Mr. Linton. So they left a bewildering a.s.sortment of suit-cases and trunks piled up on the platform in the care of an ancient porter, and packed themselves into the carriage. Norah was wont to say that the only vehicle capable of accommodating her three long men-folk comfortably was an omnibus. The fog was lifting as they rolled smoothly up the long avenue; and just as they came within sight of the house a gleam of pale sunlight found its way through the misty clouds and lingered on the ivy-clad gables. The front door was flung wide to welcome them: on the steps hovered the ex-sergeant, wearing a discreet smile. Behind him fluttered a print dress and a white ap.r.o.n, presumably worn by his niece.

”I say, Norah, don't you feel like the Queen of Sheba entering her ancestral halls?” whispered Wally wickedly, as they mounted the steps.

”If she felt simply horrible, then I do!” returned Norah. ”I suppose I'll get used to it in time, but at present I want a hollow log to crawl into!”

Allenby greeted them respectfully.

”We did not know what rooms you would like, sir,” he said. ”They are all practically ready, of course. My niece, miss, thought you might prefer the blue bedroom. Her name is Sarah, miss.”

”We don't want the best rooms--the sunniest, I mean,” Norah said.

”They must be for the Tired People, mustn't they, Dad?”

”Well, there are no Tired People, except ourselves, at present,” said her father, laughing. ”So if you have a fancy for any room, you had better take it, don't you think?”

”Well, we'll tour round, and see,” said Norah diplomatically, with mental visions of the sudden ”turning-out” of rooms should weary guests arrive. ”It might be better to settle down from the first as we mean to be.”

”A lady has come, miss,” said Allenby. ”I understood her to say she was the cook, but perhaps I made a mistake?” He paused, questioningly, his face comically puzzled.

”Oh--Miss de Lisle?”

”Yes, miss.”

”Oh, yes, she's the cook,” said Norah. ”And the housekeeper--Mrs.

Atkins?”

”No one else has arrived, miss.”

”Well, I expect she'll come,” said Norah. ”At least she promised.”

”Miss de Lisle, miss, asked for her kitchenmaid.”

”There isn't one, at present,” said Norah, feeling a little desperate.

”Oh!” said Allenby, looking blank. ”I--I am afraid, miss, that the lady expects one.”

”Well, she can't have one until one comes,” said Mr. Linton. ”Cheer up, Norah, I'll talk to Miss de Lisle.”