Part 20 (2/2)

Fancy you, only--what is it--a flapper! And don't you hate us all very much? _I_ should, I'm sure!”

Over her shoulder Norah caught a glimpse of her father's face, set in grim lines. She checked a sudden wild desire to laugh, and murmured something civil.

”Our hostess, Algernon,” said the stout lady, and Norah shook hands with Colonel West, who was short and stout and pompous, and said explosively, ”Haw! Delighted! Cold night, what?”--which had the effect of making his hostess absolutely speechless. Somehow with the a.s.sistance of Allenby and Sarah, the newcomers were ”drafted” to their rooms, and Norah and her father sought cover in the morning-room.

”You look worn, Daddy,” said his daughter, regarding him critically.

”I feel it,” said David Linton. He sank into an armchair and felt hurriedly for his pipe. ”Haven't had a chance of a smoke for hours.

They're a little trying, I think, Norah.”

”Where did you get them?” Norah asked, perching on the arm of his chair, and dropping a kiss on the top of his head.

”From the hospital where the boys were. Colonel West has been ill there. Brain-fever, Mrs. West says, but he doesn't look like it.

Anyhow, they're hard up, I believe; their home is broken up and they have five or six children at school, and a boy in Gallipoli. They seemed very glad to come.”

”Well, that's all right,” said Norah practically. ”We can't expect to have every one as nice as the Hunts. But they're not the only ones, Dad: Captain Garrett is here, and Jim is sending some one called Hardress by the 6.45--unfortunately the telephone didn't allow Jim to mention what he is! I hope he isn't a brigadier.”

”I don't see Jim hob-n.o.bbing to any extent with brigadiers,” said her father. ”I say, this is rather a shock. Four in a day!”

”Yes, business is looking up,” said Norah, laughing. ”Captain Garrett is a dear--and he can ride, Dad. I had him out on Killaloe. I'm a little uneasy about the Hardress person, because he's just out of a convalescent home, and Jim seemed worried about him. But the telephone went mad, and Jim was in a hurry, so I didn't get any details.”

”Oh, well, we'll look after him. How is the household staff standing the invasion?”

”Every one's very happy except Mrs. Atkins, and she is plunged in woe.

Even Sarah seems interested. I haven't dared to look at Miss de Lisle, but Allenby says she is cheerful.”

”Has Mrs. Atkins been unpleasant?”

”Well,” said Norah, and laughed, ”you wouldn't call her exactly a bright spot in the house. But she has seen to things, so that is all that counts.”

”I won't have that woman worry you,” said Mr. Linton firmly.

”I won't have _you_ worried about anything,” said Norah. ”Don't think about Mrs. Atkins, or you won't enjoy your tea. And here's Allenby.”

”Tea!” said Mr. Linton, as the butler entered, bearing a little tray.

”I thought I was too late for such a luxury--but I must say I'm glad of it.”

”I sent some upstairs, sir,” said Allenby, placing a little table near his master. ”Just a little toast, sir, it being so late. And if you please, miss, Miss de Lisle would be glad if you could spare a moment in the kitchen.”

The cook-lady, redder than ever, was mixing a mysterious compound in a bowl. Katty, hugely important, darted hither and thither. A variety of savoury smells filled the air.

”I just wanted to tell you,” said Miss de Lisle confidentially, ”that I'm making a special _souffle_ of my own, and Allenby will put it in front of you. Promise me”--she leaned forward earnestly--”to use a thin spoon to help it, and slide it in edgeways as gently as--as if you were stroking a baby! It's just a _perfect_ thing--I wouldn't sleep to-night if you used a heavy spoon and plunged it in as if it was a suet-pudding!”

”I won't forget,” Norah promised her, resisting a wild desire to laugh.

”That's a dear,” said the cook-lady, disregarding the relations of employer and employed, in the heat of professional enthusiasm. ”And you'll help it as quickly as possible, won't you? It will be put on the table after all the other sweets. Every second will be of importance!” She sighed. ”A _souffle_ never gets a fair chance. It ought, of course, to be put on a table beside the kitchen-range, and cut within two seconds of leaving the oven. With a _hot_ spoon!” She sighed tragically.

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