Part 19 (2/2)

”The fish will not be sufficient,” said the housekeeper. ”And other things likewise. I must talk to the cook. It would be so much easier if one knew earlier in the day. And rooms to get ready, of course?”

”The big pink room with the dressing-room,” Norah said.

”Oh, I suppose the maids can find time. Those Irish maids have no idea of regular ways: I found Bride helping to catch a fowl this morning when she should have been polis.h.i.+ng the floor. Now, I must throw them out of routine again.”

Norah suppressed a smile. She had been a spectator of the spirited chase after the truant hen, ending with the appearance of Mrs. Atkins, full of cold wrath; and she had heard Bride's comment afterwards. ”Is it her, with her ould routheen? Yerra, that one wouldn't put a hand to a hin, and it eshcapin'!”

”Yes,” said Mrs. Atkins. ”Extraordinary ways. Very untrained, I must say.”

”But you find that they do their work, don't they?” Norah asked.

”Oh, after a fas.h.i.+on,” said the housekeeper, with a sniff--unwilling to admit that Bride and Katty got through more work in two hours than Sarah in a morning, were never unwilling, and accepted any and every job with the utmost cheerfulness. ”Their ways aren't my ways. Very well, Miss Linton. I'll speak to the cook.”

Feeling somewhat battered, Norah escaped. In the hall she met Katty, who jumped--and then broke into a smile of relief.

”I thought 'twas the Ould Thing hersilf,” she explained. ”She'd ate the face off me if she found me here again--'tis only yesterday she was explaining to me that a kitchenmaid has no business in the hall, at all. But Bridie was tellin' me ye've the grandest ould head of an Irish elk here, and I thought I'd risk her, to get a sight of it.”

”It's over there,” Norah said, pointing to a mighty pair of horns on the wall behind the girl. Katty looked at it in silence.

”It's quare to think of the days when them great things walked the plains of Ireland,” she said at length. ”Thank you, miss: it done me good to see it.”

”How are you getting on, Katty?” Norah asked.

”Yerra, the best in the world,” said Katty cheerfully. ”Miss de Lisle's that kind to me--I'll be the great cook some day, if I kape on watchin' her. She's not like the fine English cooks I've heard of, that 'ud no more let you see how they made so much as a pudding than they'd fly over the moon. 'Tis Bridie has the bad luck, to be housemaid.”

Norah knew why, and sighed. There were moments when her housekeeper seemed a burden too great to be borne.

”But Mr. Allenby's very pleasant with her, and she says wance you find out that Sarah isn't made of wood she's not so bad. She found that out when she let fly a pillow at her, and they bedmaking,” said Katty, with a joyous twinkle. ”'Tis herself had great courage to do that same, hadn't she, now, miss?”

”She had, indeed,” Norah said, laughing. The spectacle of the stiff Sarah, overwhelmed with a sudden pillow, was indeed staggering.

”And then, haven't we Con to cheer us up if we get lonely?” said Katty. ”And Misther Jones and the groom--they're very friendly. And the money we'll have to send home! But you'd be wishful for Ireland, no matter how happy you'd be.”

The telephone bell rang sharply, and Norah ran to answer it. It was Jim.

”That you, Nor?” said his deep voice. ”Good--I'm in a hurry. I say, can you take in a Tired Person to-night?”

Norah gasped.

”Oh, certainly!” she said, grimly. ”Who is it, Jimmy? Not you or Wally?”

”No such luck,” said her brother. ”It's a chap I met last night; he's just out of a convalescent home, and a bit down on his luck.” His voice died away in a complicated jumble of whir and buzz, the bell rang frantically, and Norah, like thousands of other people, murmured her opinion of the telephone and all its works.

”Are you there?” she asked.

”B-z-z-z-z-z!” said the telephone.

Norah waited a little, anxiously debating whether it would be more prudent to ring up herself and demand the last speaker, or to keep quiet and trust to Jim to regain his connexion. Finally, she decided to ring: and was just about to put down the receiver when Jim's voice said, ”Are you there?” in her ear sharply, and once more collapsed into a whir. She waited again, in dead silence. At last she rang.

Nothing happened, so she rang again.

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