Part 9 (1/2)

”I cannot sit with your housekeeper,” she averred. ”You must remember, Mr. Linton, that I told you when engaging with you, that I expected special treatment.”

”And _you_ must remember,” said Mr. Linton, with sudden firmness, ”that we ourselves have not been half an hour in the house, and that we must have time to make arrangements. As for what you require, we will see into that later.”

Miss de Lisle sniffed.

”It's not what I am accustomed to,” she said. ”However, I will wait.

And the kitchenmaid?”

”I can't make a kitchenmaid out of nothing,” said Mr. Linton gloomily.

”I hope to hear of one in a day or two; I have written to Ireland.”

”To Ireland!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Miss de Lisle in accents of horror. ”My dear sir, do you know what Irish maids are like?”

”They're the nicest maids I know,” said Norah, speaking for the first time. ”And so kind and obliging.”

”H'm,” sniffed the cook-lady. ”But you are not sure of obtaining even one of these treasures?”

”Well, we'll all help,” said Norah. ”Sarah will give you a hand until we get settled, and my brother and Mr. Meadows and I can do anything.

There can't be such an awful lot of work!” She stopped. Miss de Lisle was regarding her with an eye in which horror and amazement were mingled.

”But we don't _do_ such things in England!” she gasped. ”Your brother! And the other officer! In my kitchen, may I ask?”

”Well, one moment you seem afraid of too much work, and the next, of too much help,” said Norah, laughing. ”You'd find them very useful.”

”I trust that I have never been afraid of work,” said Miss de Lisle severely. ”But I have my position to consider. There are duties which belong to it, and other duties which do not. My province is cooking. Cooking. And nothing else. Who, I ask, is to keep my kitchen clean?”

”Me, if necessary,” said a voice in which Allenby the butler was clearly merged in Allenby the sergeant. ”Begging your pardon, sir.”

He was deferential again--save for the eye with which he glared upon Miss de Lisle. ”I think, perhaps, between me and Sarah and--er--this lady, we can arrange matters for the present without troubling you or Miss Linton.”

”Do,” said his employer thankfully. He beat a retreat, followed by Norah--rather to Norah's disappointment. She was beginning to feel warlike, and hankered for the battle, with Allenby ranged on her side.

”I'm going to love Allenby,” she said with conviction, as they gained the outer regions.

”He's a trump!” said her father. ”But isn't that a terrible woman, Norah!”

”Here's another, anyhow,” said Norah with a wild inclination to giggle.

A dismal cab halted at a side entrance, and the driver was struggling with a stout iron trunk. The pa.s.senger, a tall, angular woman, was standing in the doorway.

”The housekeeper!” breathed Mr. Linton faintly. ”Do you feel equal to her, Norah?” He fled, with disgraceful weakness, to the billiard-room.

”Good morning,” Norah said, advancing.

”Good morning,” returned the newcomer, with severity. ”I have rung three times.”

”Oh--we're a little shorthanded,” said Norah, and began to giggle hopelessly, to her own dismay. Her world seemed suddenly full of important upper servants, with no one to wait on them. It was rather terrible, but beyond doubt it was very funny--to an Australian mind.

The housekeeper gazed at her with a sort of cold anger.

”I'm afraid I don't know which is your room,” Norah said, recovering under that fish-like glare. ”You see, we've only just come. I'll send Allenby.” She hurried off, meeting the butler in the pa.s.sage.