 CHAPTER 8 ASSORTED GUESTS I beg your pardon. Is this home wood? Nora, practising long, puts at a hole on the far side of the terrace, turned with a start. The questioner was in uniform, bearing a captain's three stars. He was a short, strongly-built young man, with a square, determined face. Yes, this is home wood, she answered. Have you come to see my father? I wrote to him last week, the officer said, from France. It's Miss Linton, isn't it? I'm in your brother's regiment. My name is Garrett. Oh, I've heard Jim speak of you ever so many times. She cried. She put out her hand, and felt it taken in a closed grasp. But we haven't had your letter. Dad would have told me if one had come. Captain Garrett frowned. What a nuisance! he ejaculated letters from the front or apt to take their time. But I did think a week would have been long enough. I wrote directly, I knew, my leaf was coming. You see, your brother told me. He stopped awkwardly. Intelligence suddenly dawned upon Nora. Why, you're a tired person, she exclaimed, beaming. Not at all, I assure you, replied he, looking a trifle amazed. Nora laughed. I don't mean quite that, she said. At least, I'll explain presently. But you have come to stay, haven't you? Well, your brother was good enough to... he paused again. Yes, of course. Jim told you we wanted you to come. This is the home for tired people, you see. We want to get as many of you as we can and make you fit. And you're our very first in the house, which will make it horribly dull for you. Indeed it won't, said Garrett gallantly. Well, we'll do our best for you. I'm so very sorry you weren't met. Did you leave your luggage at the station? Yes. You're quite sure it's convenient to have me, Miss Linton. I could easily go back to London. Could gracious know, said Nora, why, you're a godsend. We weren't justifying our name. But you will be dulled today, because dad has gone to London and there's only me. Nora's grammar was never her strong point. And little Jeff Hunt was coming to lunch with me. Will it bore you very much to have a small boy here? Rather not, said Garrett. I like them. Got some young brothers of my own in Jamaica. Well, that's all right. Now come in and Alanby will show you your room. The Garrett will bring your things up when it goes to meet dad. Nora had often rehearsed in her own mind what she would do when the first tired person came. The rooms were all ready. In assorted sizes, Alanby said, Nora had awful visions of eight or ten guests arriving together, and in her own mind characterized the business of allotting them to their rooms as a nasty bit of drafting. But the first guest had tactfully come alone, and there was no doubt that he deserved the blue room. A delightful little corner room looking south and west, with dainty blue hangings and wallpaper, and a big couch that beckoned temptingly to a tired man. Captain Garrett had had fourteen months in France without a break. He had spent the previous night in the leaf-train, only pausing in London for a hasty clean-up. The lavender-scented blue room was like a glimpse of heaven to him. He did not want to leave it. Only the downstairs Jim Linton's sister awaited him, and it appeared that the said sister was a very jolly girl, with a smile like her brother's cheerful grin, and a mop of brown curls framing a decidedly attractive face. Bob Garrett decided that there were better things than even the blue room, and, having thankfully accepted Alanby's offer of a hot tub, presently emerged from the house, much improved in appearance. This time Nora was not alone. A small boy was with her, who greeted the newcomer with coolness, and then suddenly fell upon him excitedly, recognizing the batch on his colour. You're in daddy's regiment, he exclaimed. Am I? Garrett smiled at him, who is daddy? He's Major Hunt, said Jeff, and had the satisfaction of seeing the new officer become as eager as he could have wished. By Jove, truly, Miss Linton, does Major Hunt live here? I'd give something to see him. He lives just round the corner of that bush, said Nora, laughing. She indicated a big row of dendron. Is he at home, Jeff? No, he's gone to London, Jeff answered, but he'll be back for tea. Then we'll go and call on Miss Hunt, and ask her if we may come to tea, Nora said. They strolled off, Jeff gaping about them. I don't know, Mrs Hunt, Garrett said. You see, I only joined the regiment when war broke out. I had done a good bit of training, so they gave me commission among the first. I didn't see such a lot of the Major, for he was doing special work in Ireland for a while. But he was a regular brick to me. We're all awfully sick about his being smashed up. But he's going to get better, Nora said cheerfully. He's ever so much better now. They came out in front of the cottage, and discovered Mrs Hunt playing hide and seek with Allison and Michael, with Allison much worried by Michael's complete inattention to anything in the shape of a rule. Michael, indeed, declined to be hit, and played on a steady line of his own, which consisted in toddling after his mother whenever she was in sight, and catching her with shrill squeaks of joy. It was perfectly satisfactory to him, but somewhat harassing to a stickler for details. Mrs Hunt greeted Garrett warmly. Douglas has often talked about you. You're from Jamaica, aren't you? She said. He will be so delighted that you have come. Yes, of course you must come to tea, Nora. I'd ask you to lunch, only I'm perfectly certain there isn't enough to eat, and Jeff will be so disgusted at being done out of his lunch with you, which makes me think it's not really your society he wants, but a fearful joy of Allen be behind his chair. I don't see why you should try to depress me, Nora laughed. Well, we'll all go up for a ride after lunch, and get back in time for tea. If you'll put up with me in a splashed habit. The roads are very muddy. You ride, I suppose, Captain Garrett? Oh yes, thanks, Garrett answered. It's the only fun I've had in France since the battalion went back into Billet. A benevolent gunner used to lend me a horse, both of us devoutly hoping that I wouldn't be caught riding it. Was it a nice horse, Jeffrey demanded? While you wouldn't call it perfect or chap, I think it was suffering from shell shock, anyhow, it had nerves. It used to shake all over when it saw a staff officer. He grinned. Or perhaps I did. On duty, that horse was as steady as all time. But when it was alone, it jumped out of its skin at anything and everything. However, it was great exercise to ride it. We'll give him killer loot this afternoon, Jeff, said Nora. Come on, I will show him the stables now. They bade over a wrack a Mrs. Hunt and sauntered towards the stables. On the way appeared a form in a print frock with flying cap and apron strings. Did you want me, Catty? Nora asked. There's a telegram after a coming miss on a bicycle, and a boy's waiting. Nora knitted her brows over the sheet of flimsy paper. There's no answer, Catty, tell the boy. She turned to Garrett, laughing. You're not going to be our only guest for long. Dad says he's bringing two people down to night. Colonel at Mrs. West. Isn't it exciting? I'll have to leave you to Jeff while I go and talk to the housekeeper. Jeff, show Captain Garrett all the horses. Jones is at the stables. Right, said Jeffery, bursting with importance. Come along, Captain Garrett, I'll let you pat my pony, if you like. Mrs. Atkins looked depressed at Nora's information. Dear me, and dinner ordered for three, she said surly. It makes a difference, and, of course, I really had not reckoned on more than you at Mr. Linton. I can telephone for anything you want, said Nora meekly. 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, Nora said. Oh, I suppose the maize can find time. Those Irish maize have no idea of regular ways. I found Bright helping to catch a foul this morning, when she should have been polishing the floor. Now I must throw the man of routine again. Nora suppressed a smile. She had been a spectator of the spirited chase after the true and hen, ending with the appearance of Mrs. Atkins, full of gold wrath. And she had heard Bright's command afterwards. Is it her, with her all routine, Yura? That one wouldn't put a hand to a hen, and did escaping. Yes, said Mrs. Atkins, extraordinary ways, very untrained, I must say. But you find that they do their work, don't they? Nora asked. Oh, after a fashion, said the housekeeper, with a sniff, unwilling to admit that Bright and Catty got through more work in two hours than Sarah in one morning, were never unwilling, and accepted any and every job with the utmost cheerfulness. Their ways aren't my ways. Very well, Miss Linden, I'll speak to the cook. Feeling somewhat battered, Nora escaped. In the hall she met Catty, who jumped, and then broke into a smile of relief. I thought it was the old thing herself, she explained. She'd ate a face of me if she felt me here again. There's only yesterday she was explaining to me that a kitchen maid has no business in the hall, at all. But Brighty was telling me, you've the grandest old head of an Irish elk here, and I thought I'd risk her to get a sight of it. It's over there, Nora said, pointing to a mighty pair of horns on the wall behind the girl. Catty looked at it in silence. It squared, I think of the days when them grey things walked the plains of Ireland, she said at length. Thank you, Miss, it don't be good to see it. How are you getting on, Catty? Nora asked. Here, the best in the world, said Catty cheerfully, miss the last that kind to me, I'll be the great cook some day, if I keep on watching her. She's not like the fine English cooks I've heard of, that it no more let you see how they made so much as a pudding than they'd fly over the moon. This Brighty has the bad luck to be house made. Nora knew why, and sighed. There were moments when her housekeeper seemed a burden too great to be born. But Mr. Alanby's very pleasant with her, and she says once 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 bet making, said Catty with the joyous twinkle. This herself had great courage to do that same, hadn't she now, miss? She had indeed, Nora said, laughing. The spectacle of the stiff Sarah, overwhelmed with a sudden pillow, was indeed staggering. And then, even we conned to cheer us if we get lonely, said Catty, and Mr. Jones, and the groom, they're very friendly, and the money will have to send home. But you'd be wishful for Ireland, no matter how happy you'd be. The telephone rang sharply, and Nora ran to answer it. It was Jim. That you, Nora? said his deep voice. Good, I'm in a hurry. I say, can you take in a tired person tonight? Nora 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 Nora, like thousands of other people, murmured her opinion of the telephone and all its works. Are you there? she asked. Buzz. Set a telephone. Nora waited a little, anxiously debating whether it would be more prudent to wring up herself and demand the last speaker, or to keep quiet and trust to Jim to regain his connection. Finally she decided to wring, 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. Number please, said a borrowed voice. Someone was speaking to me. You've cut me off, said Nora frantically. I've been trying to get you for the last ten minutes. You shouldn't have rang off, said the voice courtly. Wait, please. Nora swallowed her feelings and waited. Hello? Hello? Hello? Oh, is that you, Nora? said Jim, his tone crisp with feeling. Isn't this an unspeakable machine? And I'm due in three minutes. I must fly. Sure you can have hard dress. He'll get to you by six forty five. Are you all well? Yes, we're all right. Sorry. I'll get told off horribly if I'm late. Goodbye. Nora hung up the receiver and stood pondering. She wished the telephone had not chosen to behave so abominably. Only the day before, Wally had rung her up, and had spent quite half an hour in talking cheerful nonsense, without any hindrance at all. Nora wished she knew a little more about her new case. If he were very weak, his special food were needed. It was very provoking. Also, there was Mrs. Atkins to be faced. Not a prospect to be put off, since, like taking Gregory's powder, the more you looked at it, the worse it got. Nora stiffened her shoulders, and marched off to the housekeeper's room. Oh, Mrs. Atkins, she said pleasantly, there's another officer coming this evening. Mrs. Atkins turned, cold surprise in her voice. Indeed, Miss. And will that be all, do you think? I really don't know, so Nora recklessly. That depends on my father, you see. Oh, may I ask which room is to be prepared? The one next, Captain Garrett's, please. I can do it, if the maids are too busy. Mrs. Atkins froze yet more. I should very much rather you did not, Miss. Thank you, she said. Just as you like, said Nora, Khan can take a message for anything you want, he is going to the station. Thank you, Miss. I have already telephoned for larger supplies at the housekeeper. The conversation seemed to have ended, so Nora departs. What did she ever come for, she asked herself desperately. If she didn't want a housekeeper, why does she go out as a housekeeper? Turning a corner, she met the butler. Oh, Alanby, she said, will have quite a houseful tonight. She told him of the unexpected arrivals. Half expecting to see his face fall. Alanby, on the contrary, beamed. It'll be almost like waiting in mess, he said. When you're used to officers, Miss, you can't get on very well without them. He looked in a fatherly fashion at Nora's anxious face. All the arrangements made, I suppose, Miss? Oh yes, I think they're all right, said Nora, feeling anything but confident. Alanby, I don't know much about managing things. Do you think it's too much for the house? No, Miss, it isn't. Alanby said firmly. Just you leave it all to me and don't worry. Nature made some people bad tempered, and they can't help it. I'll see that things are all right. And that's for dinner. All that worries Miss Delisle, as a rule, is that she ain't got enough cooking to do. He bent the same fatherly glance on her that evening, as she came into the hall when the hoot of the motor told that her father and his consignment of tired people were arriving. Nora had managed to forget her troubles during the afternoon. A long ride had been followed by a very cheerful tea at Mrs. Hunt's, from which she and Garrett had returned only in time for Nora to slip into a white frock and race downstairs to meet her guests. She hoped, vaguely, that she looked less nervous than she felt. The whole door opened, letting in a breath of the cold night air. Ah, Nora, this is my daughter, Mrs. West. She heard her father's voice, and then she was greeting a stout lady and the grey-haired officer. Dear me, said the lady, I expected someone grown up. How brave! 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 Nora caught a glimpse of her father's face, set in grim lines. She checked the sudden wild desire to laugh and murmured something civil. Era hostess, Algernon, said the stout lady, and Nora shook hands with Colonel West, who was short and stout and pompous, and said explosively, Ha! Delighted! Cold night, what? Which had the effect of making his hostess absolutely speechless. Somehow, with the assistance of Allenby and Sarah, the newcomers were drafted to their rooms, and Nora and her father sought cover in the morning-room. You look worn, Daddy, said his daughter, regarding him critically. I feel it, said David Linden. He sank into an arm-chair and felt hurriedly for his pipe. Haven't had a chance of a smoke for hours. They're a little drying, I think, Nora. Where did you get them? Nora asked, birching 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 seem very glad to come. Well, that's all right, said Nora practically. We can't expect to have everyone as nice as the hunts. But they're not the only ones, Dad. Captain Garrett is here, and Jim is sending someone called Hardress by the 645. Unfortunately, the telephone didn't allow Jim to mention what he is. I hope he isn't a brigadier. I don't see Jim hobnobbing 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 Nora, laughing. Captain Garrett is a deer, and he can ride, Dad. I had him out on Killaloo. 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? Everyone's very happy, except Mrs. Atkins, and she is plunged in woo. Even Sarah seems interested. I haven't dared to look at Miss Delisle, but Alan B. says she is cheerful. Has Mrs. Atkins been unpleasant? Well, said Nora, and laughed, you wouldn't call her exactly a bright spot in the house. But she has seen the things, and 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 Nora. Don't think of it, Mrs. Atkins, or you won't enjoy your tea. And here's Alan B. 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 Alan B., placing a little table near his master. Just a little toast, sir, at being so late. And if you please, Miss, Miss Delisle would be glad if you could spare a moment in the kitchen. The cook lady, rather than ever, was mixing a mysterious compound in a bowl. Catty, hugely important, darted hither and tither. A variety of savory smells filled the air. I just wanted to tell you, said Miss Delisle, confidentially, that I'm making a special souffle of my own, and Alan B. will put it in front of you. Promise me, she lent 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 tonight if you used a heavy spoon and plunged it in, as if it were a suet pudding. I won't forget, nor I 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 antijasm. 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. We'll do our best for it, nor I promised her. I'm sure it will be lovely. Shall I come and tell you how it looked afterwards? Mr. Lyle beamed. Now, that will be very kind of you, she said. It's so seldom that anyone realizes what these things mean to the cook. A souffle like this is an inspiration, like a sonata to a musician. But no one ever dreams of the cook, and the most you can expect from a butler is oh, it got very nice, ma'am, I'm sure, very nice. She made a despairing gesture, but some people would call Chopin very nice. Missed the Lyle, said Nora earnestly. Some day, when we haven't any guests, and dad goes to London, we'll give everyone else a holiday, and you and I will have lunch here together, and we'll have that souffle, and eat it beside the range. For a moment Missed the Lyle had no words. Well, she said at length explosively, and I was so horrible to you at first. To Nora's amazement and dismay, a large tear trickled down one cheek, and their mouth quivered like a child's. Dear me, how foolish I am, said the poor cook lady, rubbing her face with her overall, and thereby streaking it most curiously with flour. Thank you very much, my dear. Even if we never manage it, I won't forget that you said it. Nora found herself patting the stalwart shoulder. Indeed, we'll manage it, she said. Now don't you worry about anything but that lovely souffle. Oh, the souffle is assured now, so Missed the Lyle beasing her mixture scientifically. Now I shall have beautiful thoughts to put into it. You have no idea what that means. Now if I sat here mixing and thought of, say, Mrs. Atkins, it would probably be as heavy as lead. She sighed, I believe, Miss Linton, I could teach you something of the real poetry of cooking. I'm sure you have the right sort of soul. Nora looked embarrassed. Jim says I've no soul beyond mustering cattle, she said, laughing. We'll prove him wrong some day, Missed the Lyle, shall we? Now I must go. The motor will be back presently. She turned, suddenly conscious of a billful glance. Oh, Mrs. Atkins, she said feebly. I came, said Mrs. Atkins stonely, to see if any help was needed in the kitchen. Perhaps, as you are here, Miss, you will be so good as to ask to cook. Oh, nothing, thank you, said Miss the Lyle, eerily, over her shoulder. Mrs. Atkins sniffed, and withdrew. That's done it, hasn't it, such a cook lady? Well, don't worry, my dear, I'll see you through anything. A white capped head peeped in. This yourself has all the luck of the place, Katia Gorman, so bright enviously, and that Sarah won't give me so much as a look-in above. If it was to turn down the beds itself, it's as much as she'll do to let me. Could I give you a hand here at all, Miss the Lyle? God, help us, there's Miss Nora. If tis the way, you'd but let her base the turkey, for a minute. She'd go upstairs, rested in herself, said Katia in a loud whisper. The creatures destroyed were being out of all the fun. Oh, come in, if you're not afraid of Mrs. Atkins, said Miss the Lyle. Nora had a vision of bride, a statically grasping and basting ladle, as she made her own escape. Alan B. was just shutting the hall door as she turned the corner. A tall man in a big military grade coat was shaking hands with her father. Here's Captain Hardress Nora. Nora found herself looking up into a face that, at first glance, she thought one of the ugliest she had ever seen. Then the newcomer smiled, and suddenly the ugliness seemed to vanish. It's too bad to take you by storm this way, but your brother wouldn't hear of anything else. Of course not, said Mr. Linton. My daughter was rather afraid you might be a brigadier. She loses her nerve at the idea of pouring tea for anything above a colonel. Indeed, a colonel's bad enough, said Nora ruefully. I'm accustomed to people with one or two stars, even three are rather alarming. She shot a glance at his shoulder, laughing. I'm sure you're not half as alarmed as I was at coming, said Captain Hardress. I've been so long in hospital that I've almost forgotten how to speak to anyone except doctors and nurses. His face, that lit up so completely when he smiled, relapsed into gloom. Why, you mustn't stand here, said Nora. Please tell me if you'd like dinner in your room, or if you'd rather come down. She had a sudden vision of Mrs. West's shrill voice, and decided that she might be tiring to this man with a gaunt, sad face. Hardress hesitated. I think you'd better stay upstairs, said David Linton, just for tonight, till you feel rested. I'll come and smook a pipe with you after dinner, if I may. I should like that awfully, said Hardress. Well, if you're sure it would not be too much trouble, Miss Linton. It's not a scrap of trouble, she said. Alanby will show you the way. See that Captain Hardress has a good fire, Alanby, and take some papers and magazines up. She looked sadly after the tall figure as it limped away. He was not much older than Jim, but his face held a world of bitter experience. You mustn't let the tired people make you unhappy, mate, said her father. He put his arm round her as they went into the drawing-room to await their guests. Remember, they wouldn't be here if they didn't need help of some sort. I won't be stupid, said Nora, but he has such a sorry face, Dad, when he doesn't smile. Then our job is to keep him smiling, said David Linton practically. There came a high-pitched voice in the hall, and Mrs. West swept in, her husband following at her heels. To Nora's inexperienced eyes, she was more gorgeous than the Queen of Sheba, in a dress of sequins that glittered and flashed with every movement. Sarah, who had assisted in her toilette, reported to the kitchen that she didn't take much stock in a dress that was molting at sequins for all the world like an old hen. But Nora saw no deficiencies, and was greatly impressed by her guest's magnificence. She was also rather overcome by her eloquence, which had the effect of making her feel speechless. Not that that greatly mattered, as Mrs. West never noticed whether anyone else happened to speak or remain silent, so long as they did not happen to drown her own voice. Such a lovely room, she twittered, so comfortable, and I feel sure there is an exquisite view, and a fire in one's bedroom, in wartime. Dear me, I feel I ought to protest, only I haven't sufficient moral courage. And those pine logs are too delicious. Perhaps you are burning your own timber? Ah, I thought so. That makes it easier for me to refrain from prodding up my moral courage. Nora hunted for a reply, and failed to find one. And you are actually Australians, Mrs. West ran on. So interesting. I always do think that Australians are so original, so quaintly original. It must be the wild life you laid, so unlike dear, quiet little England, bush rangers and savage natives, and gold mining, how I should like to see it all. Or you would find other attractions as well, Mrs. West, Mr. Linton told her. The wild life and savage place's phase of Australian history is rather a back number. Oh, quite, quite, agreed his guest. We stay at home, snow so little of the other side of the world. But we are not aloof, not uninterested. We recognise the fascination of it all. The glamour. Yes, the glamour. Gordon's poems bring it all before one. Do they not? Such a true Australian. You must be very proud of him. We are, but he wasn't an Australian, said Mr. Linton. The ladies sailed on, unheeding. Yes, the voice of the native borne, and your splendid soldiers too. I assure you, I thrill whenever I meet one of the dear fellows in the street in London, so tall and stern on their great slouch hats, outposts of the empire. That is what I say to myself. Outposts here, in the heart of our dear little Surrey, linking the ends of the earth, as it were, the strangeness of it all. Garrett, who had made an unobtrusive entrance some little time before, and had been enjoying himself hugely in the background, now came up to the group on the hearthroak and was duly introduced. Lately from France, did you say, asked Mrs. West, yesterday, fancy, like coming from one world into another. Is it not, Captain Garrett? To be only yesterday, mid the thunder of shot and shell out yonder, and tonight in dear little Surrey, said Garrett innocently, quite such a peaceful county, war has seemed so remote, you must tell me some of your experiences to-morrow. Oh, I never have any, said Garrett hastily. Now, now, she shook a playful forefinger at him. I was a mother to my husband regiment, Captain Garrett, I assure you, quite. I used to say to all our subalterns, now, remember that this house is open to you at any time. I felt that they were so far from their own home. Bring your troubles to me, I would say, and let us straighten them out together. And did they, Garrett asked. They understood me, they knew I wanted to help them, and my husband encouraged them to come. Take some encouraging, subaltern of the present day, unless it's two tennis and two-step, said Colonel West. But such dear boys, I felt their mothers would have been so glad, and their regiment had quite a name for nice subalterns. There is something so delightful about a subaltern, so carefree. By Jove, yes, said Colonel West, doesn't care for anything on earth, not even the architant. Now, Algernon. But at that moment dinner was announced, and the rest of the sentence was lost, which was an unusual fate for any remark of Mrs. West's. It was Nora's first experience as hostess at her father's dinner table, since in this connection Billabong did not seem to count. No one could ever have been nervous at Billabong. Besides, there was no butler there, here, Allenby, gravely irreproachable, but Sarah and Bride as attendant sprites seemed to intensify the solemnity of everything. However, no one seemed to notice anything unusual, and conversation flowed apace. Colonel West did not want to talk, such cooking as Mrs. Lyles appeared to him to deserve the compliment of silence, and he ate in an abstraction that left Garrett free to talk to Nora, while Mrs. West overwhelmed Mr. Linton with a steady flow of eloquence, that began with a soup, and last until dessert. Then Nora had Mrs. West withdrew leaving the man to smoke. My dear, your cook's the poems that Mrs. West, as they returned to the drawing-room. Such a dinner! That souffle! Well, words fail me. I'm so glad you liked it, Nora said. It melted in the mouth. And I watched you help it. Your face was so anxious. You insinuated the spoon with such an expression. I couldn't describe it. Nora burst out laughing. I could, she said. The cook was so anxious about that souffle, and she said to do it justice. It should be helped with a hot spoon. So I told Alanby to stand the spoon in a joke of boiling water, and give it to me at the very last moment. He was holding it in the napkin he had for drying it, I suppose, and they didn't know that the handle was nearly red hot. But I did, when I took it up. My dear child exclaimed Mrs. West, so your expression was due to agony. Something like it, Nora laughed. It was just all I could do to hold it. But the souffle was worth it, wasn't it? I must tell Mr. Lyle. Mrs. Lyle? Your cook? Yes. It sounds well, doesn't it? said Nora. She's a dear, too. She is certainly a treasure, said Mrs. West. Since the regiment went out I have been living in horrible boarding houses where they have star of you, and what they do give you to eat is so murdered in the cooking that you can hardly swallow it. Economical for the management, but not very good for the guests. But one must take things as they come in this horrible war. She paused, the forced smile fading from her lips. Somehow Nora felt that she was sorry for her. She looked suddenly old, and worn, and tired. Come and sit in this big chair, Mrs. West, she said, You must have had a long day. Well, quite, said Mrs. West. You see, I went to take my husband from the hospital at 12 o'clock, and then I found that your father had made this delightful arrangement for us. It seemed too good to be true, so I had to send Algernon to his club, and I rushed back to my boarding-house and packed my things, and then I had to do some shopping, and meet them at the station, and of course I never could get a taxi when I wanted one. I really think I am a little tired. This seems the kind of house where it doesn't matter to admit it. Of course not. Isn't it a home for tired people, Nora laughed? Sarah entered with coffee, and she fussed gently about her guest, settling her cushions and bringing her cup to her side, with cream and sugar. It's very delightful to be taken care of, said Mrs. West, with a sigh. The affected, jerky manner dropped from her, and she became more natural. My children are all boys. I often have been sorry that one was not a girl, a daughter must be a great comfort. Have you any sisters, my dear? No, just one brother. He's in Captain Garrett's regiment. And you will go back to Australia after the war? Oh yes, we couldn't possibly stay away from Australia, Nora said. Why died? You see, it's home. And England has not made you care any less for it? Goodness no, Nora said warmly. It's all very well in its way, but it simply can't hold a candle to Australia. But why? Nora hesitated. It's a bit hard to say, she answered at length. Life is more comfortable here in some ways. More luxuries and conveniences of living, I mean. And England is beautiful, and it's full of history, and we all love it for that. But it isn't our own country. The people are different, more reserved and stiffer. But it isn't even that. I don't know, said Nora, getting tangled. I think it's the air, and the space, and the freedom that we're used to. And we miss them all the time. And a jolly country life. But English country life is jolly? I think we'd get tired of it, said Nora. It seems to us all play. And in Australia, we work. Even if you go out for a ride there, most likely there is a job hanging to it. To bring in cattle, or count them, or see that the fence is all right, or to bring home the mail. Everyone is busy, and the life all round is interesting. I don't think I explain at all well. I expect the real explanation is just that the love for one's own country is in one's bones. Quite, said Mrs West, quite. But she said the ridiculous word, as though for once she understood, and there was a comfortable little silence between them for a few minutes. Then the man came in, and the evening went by quickly enough with games and music. Captain Garrett proved to be the possessor of a very fair tenor, together with a knack of vamping, not on Melodia's accompaniments. The cheery songs floated out into the hall, where Bright and Catty crouched behind the screen, torn between delight and nervousness. If the old thing was to come, she'd have the hair torn off us. Breathed Catty. But this worked the risk. Blessed hour, haven't heed the lovely voice? He half. But I'd rather listen to Miss Nora, so bright loyally. This isn't the big voice she'd be having, but it's that happy sounding. It was after ten o'clock when Nora, having said good night to her guests, and shown Mrs. West to her room, went softly along the corridor. A light showed on her missed the last doorway, and she tapped gently. The door opened, revealing the cooklady's comfortable little sitting room, with a fire burning merrily in the grate. The cooklady herself was an extraordinarily altered being, in a pale blue kimono, with heavy white embroidery. I hoped you would come, she said. Are you tired? Poor child, what an evening. I wonder, would you have a cup of cocoa with me here? I have it ready. She waved a large hand towards a fat brown jug standing on the trivet by the grate. There was a tray on a little table, bearing cups and saucers and a sponge cake. Nora gave way promptly. I'd love it, she said. How good of you! I was much too excited to eat dinner. But the souffle was just perfect, Mr. Lyle. I never saw anything like it. Mrs. West raved about it after dinner. I am glad, such a cooklady, with the rapt expression of a high praises. Alan B. told me how you arranged for a hot spoon. It was beautiful of you, beautiful. Did he tell you how hot it was, Nora inquired? They grew merry over the story, and the sponge cake dwindled simultaneously with the cocoa and the jug. I must go, Nora said at last. It's been so nice. Thank you ever so, Mr. Lyle. It's I who should thank you for staying, said a big woman, rising. Will you come again sometime? Rather, if I may. Good night. She shut the door softly, and scurried along to her room. Unconscious that another doorway was a couple of inches ajar, and that through the space Mrs. Atkins regarded her balefully. Her father's door was half open, and the room was lit. Nora knocked. Come in, said Mr. Linton. You, you bad child, I thought you were in bed long ago. I'm going now, Nora said. How did things go off, daddy? Quite well, he said, and my daughter made a good hostess. I think they all enjoyed themselves, Nora. I think so, she said. They seemed happy enough. What about Captain Haritris, dad? He seemed comfortable, Mr. Linton answered. I found him on a couch with a rug over him, reading. Alan B. said he ate a fair dinner. He's a nice fellow, Nora. I like him. Was he badly wounded, dad? He didn't say much about himself. I gathered that he had been along while in hospital. But I'm sorry for him, Nora. He seems very down on his luck. Jim said so, remarked Nora. Well, we must try to book him up. I suppose Alan B. will look after him, dad, if he needs anything. I told him to, said Mr. Linton with a grin. He looked at me coldly, and said, I hope, sir, I know my duty to a wounded officer. I believe I found myself apologizing. There are times when Alan B. quite fails to height his opinion of a mere civilian. I see myself sinking lower and lower in his eyes, as we fill this place up with khaki. Good night, Nora. Chapter 9 Homewood Gets Busy Good morning, Captain Hardress. Hardress turned. He was standing in the porch, looking out over the park towards the yellowing woods. Good morning, Miss Linton. I hope you'll forgive me for being so lazy as to stay in bed for breakfast. You'll have to blame your butler. He simply didn't call me. The first thing I knew was an enormous tray with enough breakfast for six men, and Alan B. grinning behind it. You stay in bed to breakfast here, or get up, just as you feel inclined, Nora said. There aren't any rules, except two. Isn't that a bit Irish? Not exactly, because Jim says even those two may be broken, but I don't agree to that, at least, not for rule two. Do tell me them he begged. Rule one is, bed at ten o'clock. That's the one that may be broken when necessary. Rule two is, please do just what you feel like doing. That's the one I won't have broken, unless anyone wants to do things that are in good for them. Then I shall remember that they are patients and become severe. But I'm not a patient. No, but you're tired. You've got to get quite fit. What would you like to do? Would you care to come for a ride? Hard wrist flushed darkly. Afraid I can't ride. Oh, I'm sorry, said Nora, looking at him in astonishment. This lean, active-looking fellow with the nerve of his hands certainly looked as though he should be able to ride. Indeed, there were no men in Nora's world who could not. But perhaps. What about a walk, then, she inquired. Do you feel up to it? Again, Hard wrist flushed. I thought your brother would have explained, he said heavily. I can't do anything much, Ms. Linton. You see, I've only one leg. Nora's grey eyes were wide with distress. I didn't know, she faltered. The telephone was out of order. Jim couldn't explain. I'm so terribly sorry. You must have thought me stupid. Not a bit. After all, it's rather a compliment to the shopmaid article. I was afraid it was evident enough. Indeed, it isn't. Nora assured him. I knew you limped a little, but it wasn't very noticeable. It's supposed to be a special one, Hard wrist said. I'm hardly used to it yet, though, and it feels awkward enough. They've been experimenting with it for some time, and now I'm a sort of trial case for that brand of leg. The makers swear I'll be able to dance with it. He's a hopeful soul. I'm not. You ought to try to be, Nora said, and it really must be a very good one. She felt a kind of horror at talking of it in this cold blooded fashion. I think most of the hopefulness was knocked out of me, Hard wrist answered. You see, I wanted to save the old leg, and they tried to, and then it was a case of one operation after another, until at last they took it off, near the hip. Nora went white. Near the hip her voice shook. Oh, it couldn't be. You're so big and strong. Hard wrist laughed grimly. I used to think it couldn't be, myself, he said. Well, I suppose one will get accustomed to it in time. I'm sorry I distressed you, Ms. Linton, only I thought I had better make a clean breast of it. I'm glad you did. Nora had found control of her voice and her wits. She remembered that this maimed lad with a sad face was there to be helped, and that it was part of her job to do it. Her very soul was rung with pity, but she forced a smile. Now you have just got to let us help, she said. We can't try to make forget it, I know, but we can help to make the best of it. You can practice using it in all sorts of ways, and seeing just what you can do with it. And, Captain Hard wrist, I know they do wonder is now with artificial legs. That knew a man who played tennis with his. As bad a case is yours. That certainly seems too good to be true, said Hardress. I don't know about that, said Nora eagerly. Your leg must be very good. None of us guessed the truth about it. When you get used to it, you'll be able to manage all sorts of things. Golf, for instance. There's a jolly little nine-hole chorus in the park, and I know you could play. I had thought golf might be a possibility, he said. Not that I ever cared much for it. My two games were polo and rugby football. I don't know about rugby, said Nora thoughtfully, but of course you'll play polo again. Someone was writing in one of the papers lately, saying that so many men had lost a leg in the war that the makers would have to invent special riding legs for hunting and polo. I know very well that if Jim came home without a leg, he'd still go mustering cattle, or know the reason why. And there was the case of an Irishman a while ago, who had no legs at all, and he used to hunt. By Jove, said Hardress, well, you cheer a fellow up, Miss Linton. You see, I have Jim and Wally, said Nora. Do you know Wally, by the way? Is that Meadows? Oh yes, I met him with your brother. Well, he's just like my brother. He nearly lives with us. And from the time that they joined up, we had to think of the chance of their losing a limb. Jim never says anything about it, but I know Wally dreads it. Dad and I found out all we could about artificial limbs, and what can be done with them, so that we could help the boys if they had bad luck. They are all right so far, but of course there's always a chance. Hardress nodded. We planned that if bad luck came, we would try to get them to do as much as possible. Of course an arm is worse. To lose a leg is bad enough, goodness knows, but it's better than an arm. That's one of the problems I've been studying, Hardress said grimly. Oh, but it is. And with you, why? In a few years no one will ever guess that you have anything wrong. It's luck in one way, because a leg doesn't make you conspicuous, and an arm does. That's true, he said energetically. I have hoped desperately that I'd be able to hide it. I just couldn't stick the idea of people looking at me. Well, they won't, said Nora, and the more you can carry on as usual, the less bad it will seem. Now, let's plan what you can tackle first. Can you walk much? Not much, I get tired after about fifty yards. Well, we'll do fifty yards whenever you feel like it, and then we'll sit down and talk until you can go on again. She hesitated. You… it doesn't trouble you to sit down? Who knows, said Hardress, laughing for the first time. It's an awfully docile leg. Then can you drive? There's the motor, and the roomy tub-card, and the carriage. Yes, I can drive. Oh, I say, cried Nora inelegantly, struck by a brilliant idea. Can you drive a motor? No, I can't. I'm sorry. I'm not. Conn will teach you. It will give you quite a new interest. Would you like to learn? By Jove, I would, he said eagerly. You're sure your father won't mind my risking his car? Dad would laugh at such a foolish question, said Nora. We'll go and see Conn now, shall we? It's not far to the stables. You might have a lesson at once. Rather, he said boyishly, I say, Miss Linton, you are a brick. Now about golf, Nora said, as they moved slowly away, Hardress leaning heavily on his stick. Will you try to play a little with me? We could begin at the practice-holes beyond the terrace. Yes, I'd like to, he said. And billiards, we'll wait for a wet day, because I want you to live in the open air as much as possible. I can't play decently, but Captain Garrett is staying here, and Jim and Wally come over pretty often. You might let me teach you to play, he suggested. Would you care too? Oh, I'd love it, said Nora Beaming. The beam, had he known it, was one of delight at a new ring in her patient's voice. Life had come back to it. He held his head erect, and his eyes were no longer hopeless. And, riding, she hesitated. I don't know, he said. I don't believe I could even get on. There's a steady old pony, Nora said. Why not practice on him? He stands like a rock. I won't stay and look at you, but can't could. You see, he's lost a leg himself, so you wouldn't mind him. I'm sure you'll find you can manage. And when you get confidence, we'll go out together. Well, you would put hope into— Into a dead codfish, he said. Great Scott, if I thought I could get on a horse again. Nora laughed. We're all horse mad, she said. If I were, like you, I know that a ride would be the thing that would help me most. So you have just got to. They had arrived at the stables, where a con had the car out, and was lovingly polishing its bonnet. Con, can you teach Captain Hardress to drive? Is it the car? asked Con. And why not, Miss? Can I manage it, do you think? asked Hardress. I've only one leg. This as many as I have myself, return Con cheerfully, and I'm not that bad a driver, am I, Miss Nora? Here not, Nora answered. Now, I'll leave you to Con, Captain Hardress. I suppose you'll learn all about the car before you begin to drive her. Con can run you round to the house afterwards, if you're tired. The horses are in the stables, too, if you'd care to look at them. Jones have the brown pair out, Miss, said Con. But the others are all here. Well, you can show them to Captain Hardress, Con. I want him to begin riding Brieken. She smiled at Hardress and ran off, looking back just before the shrubberies hit the stable yard. Hardress was peering into the bonnet of the car, with Con evidently explaining its inner mysteries. Just as she looked he straightened up, and threw off his coat with a quick gesture. He's all right, said Nora happily. She hurried on. The tired people were off her hands for the morning. Colonel and Mrs West had gone for a drive. Captain Garrett was playing golf with Major Hunt, who was developing rapidly in playing a one-armed game, and was extremely interested in his own progress. It was the day for posting to Australia, and there was a long letter to Brownie to be finished, and one to Jean York, her chum in Melbourne. Already it was late. In the study her father had been deep in his letters for over an hour. But as she came up to the porch, she saw him in the hall. Oh, Nora, he said with relief, I've been looking for you. Here's a letter from Harry Trevor, of all people. Harry, said Nora delightedly. Oh, I'm so glad. Where is he, Dad? He's in London. This letter has been wandering round after us. We ought to have had it days ago. Harry has a commission now. Got it on the field in Gallipoli. More power to him, and he's been wounded and sent to England. But he says he's all right. Oh, won't Jim and Wally be glad? Harry Trevor was an old school fellow whom fate had taken to Western Australia. It was years since they had met. He has two other fellows with him, he says, and he doesn't know anyone in London, Nora do day. His one idea seems to be to see us. What are we to do, Nora? Can we have them here? Why, we must have them, Nora said. She made a swift mental calculation. Yes, we can manage it. You're sure, asked her father, evidently relieved. I was afraid it might be too much for the house, and I would be very sorry to put them off. Put off Australians. Even if one of them wasn't Harry, ejaculated Nora, we couldn't do it. How will you get them, dad? I'll telephone to their hotel at once, said her father. Shall I tell them to come to-day? Oh, yes. You can arrange the train, dad. Now I'll go and see Mrs. Atkins. Tiss yourself has great courage entirely, said her father, looking at her respectfully. I'd rather tackle a wild buffalo. I'm not sure that I wouldn't, returned Nora. However, she's all the buffalo I've got, so I may as well get it over. She turned as she reached the door. Tell old Harry how glad we are, dad, and don't you think you ought to let Jim know? Yes, I'll ring him up too. And off went Nora, singing. Three Australians in dear little Surrey. It was almost too good to be true. But Mrs. Atkins did not think so. She was sorting linen with a sour face, when Nora entered her sanctum and made known her news. The housekeeper remained silent for a moment. Well, I don't see how we're to manage, Miss, she said at length. The house is pretty full, as it is. There is the big room with two single beds, Nora said. We can put a third bed in. They won't mind being together. Mrs. Atkins sniffed. It isn't usual to crowd people like that, Miss. It won't matter in this case, said Nora. Did you say Australians, Miss? asked the housekeeper. Officers. One is an officer. And the others, Miss? I don't know, privates, very possibly, said Nora. It doesn't matter. Not matter, well upon my word, ejaculated Mrs. Atkins. Well, all I can say, Miss, is that it's very funny. And how do you think the maids are going to do all that extra work? Nora began to experience a curious feeling of tingling. I am quite sure the maids can manage it, she said, commanding her voice with an effort. For one thing I can easily help more than I do now. We're not accustomed in this country to young ladies doing that sort of thing, said Mrs. Atkins. Her evil temper mastered her. And your pet cook defined Lady who's too grand to sit with me. Nora found her voice suddenly calm. You mustn't speak to me like that, Mrs. Atkins, she said, marveling at her own courage. You'll have to go away if you can't behave properly. Mrs. Atkins choked. Go away, she said thickly. Yes, I'll go away. I'm not going to stay in a house like this. That's no more and no less than a boarding-house. You and your friend to cook can. Be quiet, woman, said a voice of thunder. Nora, who had shrunk back before the angry housekeeper, felt a throb of relief as Allenby strode into the room. At a moment there was nothing of the butler about him. He was Sergeant Allenby. And Mrs. Atkins was simply a refractory private. I won't be quiet, screamed the housekeeper. I— You will do, as you're told, said Allenby, dropping a heavy hand on her shoulder. That's enough now, not another word. Now go to your room, out of here, or I'll send for the police. Something in the hard, quiet voice filled Mrs. Atkins with terror. She cast a bitter look at Nora, and then slunk out of the room. Allenby closed the door behind her. I'm very sorry, Miss, he said. Butler wants more. I hope she didn't frighten you. Oh no! Only she was rather horrible, said Nora. Whatever is the matter with her, Allenby, I hadn't said anything to make her so idiotic. I've been suspecting what was the matter these last three days, said Allenby darkly. Look here, Miss. He opened a cupboard, disclosing rows of empty bottles. I found these here this morning, when she was in the kitchen. I'd been missing bottles from the cellar. She must have another key to the cellar door. However, she managed it. There came a tap at the door that Mr. Linton came in, to have the situation briefly explained to him. I wouldn't have had it happen for something, he said angrily. My poor little girl. I didn't think we were letting you in for this sort of thing. Why, you couldn't help it, Nora said. And she didn't hurt me. She was only unpleasant. But I think we had better keep her out of Miss Delisle's way. Or she might be hard to handle. That's so, Miss, said Allenby. I'll go and see. Hard to handle. I should think so. See that she packs her box, Allenby, said Mr. Linton. I'll write her check at once, and Conn can take her to the station, as soon as she is ready. She's not too bad to travel, I suppose. She's not bad at all, sir, only enough to make her nasty. Well, she can go and be nasty somewhere else, said Mr. Linton. Very well, Allenby. He turned to Nora, looking unhappy. Whatever will you do, my girl? And this house full of people. I'd better telephone Harry and put his party off. Indeed you won't, said Nora, very cheerfully. I'll manage, Dad. Don't you worry. I'm going to talk to Miss Delisle. The cook lady was not in the kitchen. Catty, washing vegetables diligently, referred Nora to her sitting-room, and there she was found, knitting a long, khaki muffler. She heard the story in silence. So I must do just the best I can, Miss Delisle, Nora ended, and I'm wondering if you think I must really advertise for another housekeeper. It didn't seem to me that Mrs. Atkins did much, except give orders, and surely I can do that, after a little practice. Nora flushed and looked anxious. Of course I don't want to make a mess of the whole thing. I know the house must be well run. Well, said Miss Delisle, knitting with feverish energy. I couldn't have said it if you hadn't asked me, but as you have I would like to propose something. Perhaps it may sound as if I thought too much of myself, but with a cook like me you don't need a housekeeper. I have a conscience, and I know how things ought to be run. So my proposal is this, and you and your father must just do as you like about it. Why not make me cook housekeeper? Oh, but could you? Nora cried delightedly. Wouldn't it be too much work? I don't think so. Of course I'm expecting that you're going to help in supervising things. I can teach you anything. You see, Kathy is a treasure. I back down in all I ever thought about Irish mates, said the cook lady, parenthetically. And she makes me laugh all day, and I wouldn't be without her for anything. Give me a smart boy in the kitchen for the rough work, then Kathy can do more of the plain cooking, which she'll love. And I shall have more time out of the kitchen. Now what do you say? Me, said Nora, I'd like to hug you. I wish you would, said Miss Delisle, knitting more frantically than ever. You see, this is the first place I've been in where I've really been treated like a human being. You didn't patronise me, and you didn't snope me, any of you. But you laughed with me, and it was a mighty long time since laughing had come into my job. Dear me, finished Miss Delisle, you've no idea how at home with you all I've felt since Alanby fell over me in the passage. We loved you from that minute, said Nora, laughing. Then you think we can really manage? You'll have to let me consult with you over everything, ordering and all that, because I do want to learn my job. And you won't mind how many people we bring in? Fill the house to explosion point, if you like, said Miss Delisle. If you don't have a housekeeper, you'll have two extra rooms to put your tired people in. What's the good of a scheme like this if you don't run it thoroughly? She found herself suddenly hugged, to the no small disadvantage of the knitting. Oh, I'm so happy, Nora cried. Now I'm going to enjoy the home for tired people, and up till now Mrs. Atkins has lain on my soul like a ton of bricks. Bless you, Miss Delisle, I'm going to tell Dad. Her racing footsteps flew down the corridor. But Miss Delisle sat still, with a half smile on her rugged face. Once she put her hand up to the place where Nora's lips had brushed her cheek. Dear me, she murmured. Well, it's fifteen years since anyone did that. Still smiling, she picked up the knitting. End of Chapter 9 Chapter 10 of Captain Jim This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Captain Jim by Mary Grant Bruce Chapter 10 Australia in Surrey The three Australians came that afternoon, and, like many Australians in the wilds of London, with a vague idea of distances, having given themselves good time to catch their train, managed to catch the one before it. And so arrived at Homewood unheralded and unsung. Nora, and Captain Hardress, who had been knocking golf balls about, were crossing the terrace on their way to tea, when the three slouched hats called Nora's Eye through the trees of the avenue. She gasped, dropped her clubs, and fled to meet them. Hardress stared. Then, receiving the newcomers, smiled a little and went on slowly. I'd like to see her doing a hundred yards, he said. The three soldiers jumped as the flying figure came upon them, round the bend in the drive. Then one of them sprang forward. Harry, said Nora. My word, I am glad to see you, said Harry Trevor, pumping her hand. I say, Nora, you haven't changed a bit. You're just the same as when you were twelve, only that you've grown several feet. Did you expect to find me bold and fat, Nora laughed? Oh, Harry, we are glad to see you. While you might have aged a little, said he, goodness knows I have. Nora, where is old Jim? He's at Alder Shot, but you can be certain that he'll be here as soon as he possibly can, and Wally too. That's good business. He suddenly remembered his friends, who were affecting great interest in the botanical features of a beach-tree. Come here, you chaps. Nora, this is Jack Blake and Dick Harrison. They're awfully glad to see you, too. While you might have let us say it for ourselves, Dicker, said the two, shaking hands, we were just going to. It's lovely to have you all, said Nora. She looked over the three, all tall fellows, lean and bronzed, with quiet faces and deep-set eyes. Blake bore a sergeant's stripes. Dick Harrison's sleeve modestly proclaimed him a lance corporal. We've been wondering in that funny old London, like lost sheep, Blake said. My word, that's a lonesome place, if you don't happen to know anyone in it. And people look at you as if you were something out of a zoo. They're not used to you yet, said Nora. It's the hat, as much as anything. We don't know about that, Harry said. No, I think they'd know we came out of a different mob, even if we weren't branded. Perhaps they would, and you certainly do, Nora answered. But come on to the house, that is just as anxious to see you as any one. Indeed, as they came inside of the house, David Linton was seen coming with long strides to meet them. Hardress told me you had suddenly turned into a marathon runner at the sight of three big hats, he said. How are you, Harry? It's an age since we saw you. Yes, isn't it? Harry shook hands warmly, and introduced his friends. You haven't changed either, Mr. Linton? I ought to be aging, only Nora won't hear of it, said Mr. Linton, laughing. She bullished me more hopelessly than ever, Harry. She always did, Trevor agreed. Oh, I want to talk about Billabong for an hour. How's Brownie, Nora? Had Murty O'Toole, and Black Billy? How do you manage to live away from them? It isn't easy, Nora answered. They're all very fit. Only they want us back. We can't allow ourselves to think of the day that we'll get home, or we'll all grow lightheaded. It will be no end of a day for all of us, said Harrison. Think of marching down Collins Street again, with the crowd cheering us, keeping an eye out for the people one knew. It was fairly beastly marching up it for the last time. It's not Collins Street I want, but a bit of the Gippsland track, said Jack Blake. You know, Dick, we took Hethel there last year, over the haunted hills. Aren't they jolly in the spring, and down through the scrub do more well and travel gone? I'd give something to see that bit of country again. Ah, it's all good country, David Linton said. Then they were at the house, and a buzz of conversation floated out to them from the hole, where tea was in progress. Your father simply made me promise to go on without you, said Mrs West, as Nora made her apologies. I said it was dreadful, but he wouldn't listen to me, and there are your friends. Dear me, how large they are, and so brown! Do introduce them to me, I'm planning to hear all about Australia, and a sergeant that lands corporal. Isn't it romantic to see them among us, and quite at their ease? Don't tell them I'm a colonel's wife, my dear, I would hate them to feel embarrassed. I don't think you need to worry, said Nora, smiling to herself. She brought up the three newcomers and introduced them. They subsided upon a sofa, and listened solemnly, while Mrs West opened all her conversational batteries upon them. Nora heard the opening. I've read such a lot about your charming country, and felt a throb of pity for the three wanderers from afar. Hardress came towards her with a cup of tea. His limp a little more evident. You're tired, she said, taking it from him. Sure you haven't done too much? Not a bit, he said. I'm a little tired, but it's the best day I have had for many a month. I don't know when I enjoyed anything as much as my motor-lesson this morning. Con says you'll be able to drive and pick a dilly in no time, said Nora. He's hopeful, Hardress said, laughing, particularly as we never started the car at all. He made me learn everything I could about it first. And did he tell you I rode Breakin? No. How did you get on? asked Nora delightedly. Well, I literally got on very badly, at first. The shop leg didn't seem to understand what was wanted of it at all. And then his steed, but Breakin, would have strongly resented me. But he stood in a pensive attitude while I tried all sorts of experiments. In fact, I think he went to sleep. I told you you could rely on Breakin, Nora smiled. What happened then? Oh, I got used to myself and found out a knack of getting on. It's not hard with a steady horse, won't you find out how? But I think Breakin will do me very well for a while. Oh, we'll soon get you on to Brunette, Nora said. You'd enjoy her. Is that the Blackpony? Yes, and she's a lovely hack. I'm going to hunt her in the winter. She jumps like a deer. She looked at beauty in the stable, Hardress said. She ought to make a good polo pony. He sighed. I wonder if I'll really ever play polo again. Of course you will, Nora told him. This morning you didn't think you would ever get on a horse again. No, I certainly didn't. You have put an extraordinary amount of hope into me. I feel a different being. He stopped, and a smile crapped into his eyes. Listen, aren't your friends having a time? Life must be so exciting on your great cattle ranges, Mrs. West was saying, and to dear little wooly lambs on the farms, such pets. We understood you people over here preferred and frozen, Blake said gently. So we sent them that way. Nora choked over her tea. She became aware that Colonel West was speaking to her and tried to command her wits, hearing as she turned Mrs. West's shrill pipe. And what is a wheat-belt? Isn't something you wear? Nora would have given much to hear Blake's reply. Delightful place you have here, barked the Colonel. Your father and I have been spending an agricultural afternoon planning all the things he means to do on that farm. Hawkinses, isn't it? But I suppose you don't take much interest in that sort of thing. Dancers and frocks, more on your line. And chocolates, eh, what? Then you've changed her in England. Then you've changed her in England, said Harry Trevor suddenly. Is it dancers now, Nora? No more quick things in the grass after a cross-grain bullock. Don't say you've forgotten how to use a stock whip. It's hung up at Billabong, Nora said, laughing. But you wait until I get back to it, that's all. Dear me, said Mrs. West, and you do these wonderful things too. I always long to do them as a girl, to ride over long leagues of plain on a fiery Mustang among your lovely eucalyptus trees. And do you really go out with the cowboys and use a lasso? She does, said Harry, happily. You're wild animals too, said Mrs. West. It's kangaroos you ride down with spears, is it not? And wallabies. We live in dear, quiet little England, but we read all about your wonderful life, and they're oh, so interested. What a life, said Dick Harrison, under his breath. Quite. You know, I had a great friend who went out as ADC to one of your governors. He had to return after a month, because his father died and he came into the baronancy. But some day he means to write a book on Australia. That is why I have always, as it were, kept in touch with your great country. I seem to know it so well, though I have never seen it. You do indeed, said Blake gravely. I wish we knew half as much about yours. Ah, but you must let us show it to you. Is it not yours too? Outposts of empire. That is what I call you. Outposts of empire. Is it not that that brought you to fight under our flag? Oh, rather, said Blake gravely. But a lot of us just wanted a look in at the phone. Well, you got a good deal for a start, said Garrett. Yes, Abdul gave us all we wanted on his little peninsula. But he's not a bad fighting man, old Abdul. We don't mind how often we take tea with him. He's a better man to fight than Fritz. He could pretty easily be that, Garrett said. It's one of the worst grudges we owe Fritz, that he's taken all the decency out of war. It used to be a man's game, but the Bosch made it one according to his own ideas, and everybody knows what they are. Yes, said Hardress. I suppose the Bosch will do a good deal of crawling to get back among decent people after the war. But he'll never live down his poison-gas and flamethrowers. And wouldn't it have been a gorgeous old war if he'd only fought clean, said Garrett longingly. They drew together and talked as fighting man will. Veterans in the ways of war, though the eldest was not much over one and twenty. The sudden hoot of a motor came from the drive far off, and then another and another. Someone's joy-riding, said Harry Trevor. The hooting increased, and with it the hum of a racing car. The gravel outside the porch crunched as it drew up, and then came cheery voices, and two long figures in great coats dashed in, Jim and Wally. Eager eyed. That! Nora! Where's old Harry? But Harry was grasping a hand of each, and submitting to mighty pats on the back from their other hands. By Jove, it's great to see you. Where did you come from, you old reprobate? Finish, Johnny Turk? Gradually the boys became aware that there were other people in the hall and made apologies, interrupted by another burst of joy at discovering Garrett. You must think as Bear said Jim with his disarming smile to Mrs West. But we hadn't seen Trevor for years, and he's a very old chum. It would have been exciting to meet him in Australia. But in England, well. How ever did you manage to come? Nora asked, beaming. Oh, we can't leave. We've been good boys. At least Wally was until we got your message this morning. Since then he has been wondering about like a lost fowl, murmuring. Harry! My Harry! Is it me, returned Wally? Don't believe him, Nora. It was all I could do to keep him from slapping the CEO on the back and borrowing his car to come over. I don't doubt it, Nora laughed. Whose car did you borrow, by the way? Oh, we hired one. It was extravagant, but we agreed that it wasn't every day we kill a pig. Thank you, said Harry. Years haven't altered your power of putting a thing nicely. He smote Wally affectionately. I say, you were a kid when I saw you last. A kid in nigger-bockers. And look at you now. Well, you were much the same, Wally retorted, and now you're a hard and old warrior. I've only played at it so far. But you were gassed, weren't you? Yes, but we hadn't had much war before they gassed us. That was the annoying part. Well, didn't you have a little private war in Ireland? What about the German submarine? Oh, that was sheer luck, said Wally joyfully. Such a lark, only for one thing. But we don't consider we've earned our keep yet. Oh, well. You've got lots of time, Harry said. I wonder if they'll send any of us to France. It would be rather fun if we got somewhere in your part of the line. Yes, wouldn't it? Then Jack Blake, who happened at school with the boys, came up with Dick Harrison, and England ceased to exist for the five Australians. They talked of their own country, all days at school, hard fought battles on the Melbourne Cricket Ground, boat racing on the Yara, billabong and other stations, bushfires and cattle yarding, long days on the road with cattle, and nights spent watching them under the stars. All the grim business of life that had been theirs since those carefree days, seemed but to make their own land dearer by comparison. Not that they said so, in words, but they lingered over their talk with an unspoken delight in being at home again, even in memory. Nora slipped away, regretfully enough, after a time. Her responsibilities as housekeeper weighed upon her, as she sawed Mr. Lyle in the kitchen. What? Your brother and Mr. Wally? How delightful! ejaculated the cook lady. That's what I call really jolly. Their rooms are always ready, I suppose. Oh yes, Nora said. I've told Bride to put sheets on the beds. And that's all right. Dinner! My dear, you need never worry about a couple extra for dinner, in a household of this size. Just tell the maids to lay the table accordingly, and let me know. That is all you need to do. Mrs. Atkins had destroyed my nerve, said Nora, laughing. I came down to tell you, with the same scared feeling that I had when I used to go to her room. My very needs were shaking. Then you're a very bad child, if you are my employer, returned Mr. Lyle. However, I'll forgive you. But some time I want you to make a list for me of the things those big boys of yours like most. I might just as well cook them as not, when they come. And of course, when they go out to France, we shall have the sentence splendid hampers. That will be a tremendous comfort, Nora said. You're a prick, Mr. Lyle. We used the sentence hampers before, of course, but it seemed so unsatisfactory just to order them at the stores. It will be ever so much nicer to cook them things. You will let me cook, won't you? Indeed I will, said Mr. Lyle. We'll shut ourselves up here for a day, now and then, and have awful bouts of cookery. How did you like the potato cakes at tea, by the way? They were perfect, Nora said. I never tasted better, even in Ireland. At which Cathy, who had just entered with a saucepan, blushed hotly, and cast an aesthetic glance at Mr. Lyle. I don't suppose you did, remarked that lady. You see, Cathy made them. Wasn't she good now to let me, Miss Nora? Cathy asked. There's them at home that told me I'd get no chance at all of learning under a grand cook here. This little delight of them would give you to do in the kitchen. If you asked them for a job, barring it was to wash the floor, they'd pitch you to the seven divils. Isn't the scullery good enough for you, they'd say? Cock you up with the cooking. But Mr. Lyle isn't one of them, and the cakes to go up to the drawing-room itself. Well, everyone liked them, Cathy, Nora said. Yura, hadn't I Brydie watching behind the big screen with the crack in it? said the handmaid. She came back to me, and she says. They're all eight, says she. This the way ye had not enough made, she says. I didn't know if it was on me head or me heels I was. She bent a look of adoration upon Mr. Lyle, who laughed. Oh, I'll make a cook of you yet, Cathy, she said. Meanwhile, you'd better put some coal on the fire, or the oven won't be hot enough for my pastry. Is it early breakfast for your brother and Mr. Wally, Miss Linton? I'm afraid so, Nora said. Jim said they must leave at eight o'clock. Then that means breakfast at seven thirty. Will you have yours with them? Oh, yes, please, if it's not too much trouble. Nothing's a trouble, certainly not on early breakfast, said Miss Lyle. Now don't worry about anything. Nora went back to the hall to find it deserted. A buzz of voices came from the billiard-room. She peeped in to find all the soldiers talking with her father listening happily in a big chair. No one saw her. She withdrew and went in search of Mrs. West, but failed to find her. Bright and counted on her evening tour with cans of hot water, reported that it was lying down she was, and not wishful for talk. Her rest was more to her. Then I may as well go and dress, Nora said. She had just finished when a quick step came along the corridor and stopped at her door. Jim's fingers beat a tattoo that was always their signal. Come in, Jimmy, Nora cried. He came in, looming huge in the dainty little room. Good business, you're dressed, he said. Can I come and yarn? Rather, said Nora, beaming. Come and sit down in my yarn chair. This electric heater isn't as jolly to yarn by as a good old log fire, but still it's something. She pulled her chair forward. Can't you wait for me to do that, bad kid? Said Jim. He sat down, and Nora subsided on the rug near him. Now tell me all about everything, he said. How are things going? Quite well. Especially Mrs. Atkins, said Nora. In fact, she's gone. Jim set up. Gone, but how? Nora told him the story, and he listened with joyful ejaculations. Well, she was always the black spot in the house, he remarked. It gave one the creeps to look at her sour face, and I'm certain she was more bothered to you than she was worth. Oh, I feel twenty years younger since she went, Nora said, and it's going to be great fun to Helski with Mr. Lyle. I shall learn ever so much. So was she, I imagine, said Jim, laughing. Put her up to all the Australian ways, and see if we can't make a good emigrant of her when we go back. I might, Nora said, but she will be a shock to Brownie if she suggested putting her soul into a pudding. Rather, said Jim, twinkling, I say, tell me about Hardress. Do you like him? Oh yes, ever so much. She told him of her morning's work. Indeed, by the time the gong boomed out at summons from the hall, there was very little in the daily life of Homewood that Jim had not managed to hear. We're always wondering how you are getting on, he said. It's jolly over there, the work is quite interesting, and there's a very nice lot of fallows. Would I like to look in at you two and see how this show was running? He hesitated. It won't be long before we go out, Nora, old chap. Won't it, Jimmy? She put up a hand and caught his. Do you know how long? A week or two, not more. But you're not to worry. You've just got to think of the day when we'll get our first leave, and then you'll have to leave all your tired people and come and paint London red. He gave a queer laugh. Oh, I don't know, though. It seems to be considered the right thing to do, but I expect we'll just amble along here and ask you for a job in the house. Why, you'll be tired people yourselves, said Nora. We'll have to look after you and give you nourishment at short intervals. We'll take that, if it's Mr. Lyle's cooking. Now, don't think about this business too much. I thought I'd better tell you, but nothing is definite yet. Perhaps I'd better not tell Dad. No, don't. He's so happy. I wish I didn't have to make either of you less happy, Jim said in a troubled voice. But it can't be helped. No, I know it can't, Jimmy. Don't you worry. Dear old chap, said Jim, and stood up. I'd better go and make myself presentable before the second gong goes. He paused. You're all ready, aren't you? Then you might go down. Wally will be wandering round everywhere looking for you. End of chapter 10