CHAPTER IX
HOMEWOOD GETS BUSY
"Good morning, Captain Hardress."
Hardress turned. He was standing in the porch, looking out over thepark towards the yellowing woods.
"Good morning, Miss Linton. I hope you'll forgive me for being solazy as to stay in bed for breakfast. You'll have to blame yourbutler: he simply didn't call me. The first thing I knew was anenormous tray with enough breakfast for six men--and Allenby grinningbehind it."
"You stay in bed to breakfast here, or get up, just as you feelinclined," Norah 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 Idon't agree to that--at least, not for Rule 2."
"Do tell me them," he begged.
"Rule 1 is, 'Bed at ten o'clock.' That's the one that may be brokenwhen necessary. Rule 2 is, 'Please do just what you feel like doing.'That's the one I won't have broken--unless any one wants to do thingsthat aren't good for them. Then I shall remember that they arepatients, and become severe."
"But I'm not a patient."
"No--but you're tired. You've got to get quite fit. What would youlike to do? Would you care to come for a ride?"
Hardress flushed darkly.
"Afraid I can't ride."
"Oh--I'm sorry," said Norah, looking at him in astonishment. Thislean, active-looking fellow with the nervous hands certainly looked asthough he should be able to ride. Indeed, there were no men inNorah's world who could not. But, perhaps----
"What about a walk, then?" she inquired. "Do you feel up to it?"
Again Hardress flushed.
"I thought your brother would have explained," he said heavily. "Ican't do anything much, Miss Linton. You see, I've only one leg."
Norah's grey eyes were wide with distress.
"I didn't know," she faltered. "The telephone was out of order--Jimcouldn't explain. I'm so terribly sorry--you must have thought mestupid."
"Not a bit--after all, it's rather a compliment to the shop-madearticle. I was afraid it was evident enough."
"Indeed it isn't," Norah assured him. "I knew you limped alittle--but it wasn't very noticeable."
"It's supposed to be a special one," Hardress said. "I'm hardly usedto it yet, though, and it feels awkward enough. They've beenexperimenting with it for some time, and now I'm a sort of trial casefor that brand of leg. The maker swears I'll be able to dance withit: he's a hopeful soul. I'm not."
"You ought to try to be," Norah said. "And it really must be a verygood one." She felt a kind of horror at talking of it in thiscold-blooded fashion.
"I think most of the hopefulness was knocked out of me," Hardressanswered. "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 lastthey took it off--near the hip."
Norah went white.
"Near the hip!" Her voice shook. "Oh, it couldn't be--you're so bigand strong!"
Hardress laughed grimly.
"I used to think it couldn't be, myself," he said. "Well, I supposeone will get accustomed to it in time. I'm sorry I distressed you,Miss Linton--only I thought I had better make a clean breast of it."
"I'm glad you did." Norah had found control of her voice and herwits: she remembered that this maimed lad with the set face was thereto be helped, and that it was part of her job to do it. Her very soulwas wrung with pity, but she forced a smile.
"Now you have just got to let us help," she said. "We can't try tomake forget it, I know, but we can help to make the best of it. Youcan practise using it in all sorts of ways, and seeing just what youcan do with it. And, Captain Hardress, I know they do wonders nowwith artificial legs: Dad knew of a man who played tennis with his--asbad a case as yours."
"That certainly seems too good to be true," said Hardress.
"I don't know about that," said Norah eagerly. "Your leg must be verygood--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, forinstance--there's a jolly little nine-hole course in the park, and Iknow you could play."
"I had thought golf might be a possibility," he said. "Not that Iever cared much for it. My two games were polo and Rugby football."
"I don't know about Rugby," said Norah thoughtfully. "But of courseyou'll play polo again. Some one was writing in one of the paperslately, saying that so many men had lost a leg in the war that themakers 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 gomustering cattle, or know the reason why! And there was the case ofan Irishman, a while ago, who had no legs at all--and he used tohunt."
"By Jove!" said Hardress. "Well, you cheer a fellow up, Miss Linton."
"You see, I have Jim and Wally," said Norah. "Do you know Wally, bythe 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 fromthe time that they joined up we had to think of the chance of theirlosing a limb. Jim never says anything about it, but I know Wallydreads 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 theyhad bad luck. They are all right, so far, but of course there isalways the chance."
Hardress nodded.
"We planned that if bad luck came we would try to get them to do asmuch as possible. Of course an arm is worse: to lose a leg is badenough, 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 everguess that you have anything wrong. It's luck in one way, because aleg doesn't make you conspicuous, and an arm does."
"That's true," he said energetically. "I have hoped desperately thatI'd be able to hide it; I just couldn't stick the idea of peoplelooking at me."
"Well, they won't," said Norah. "And the more you can carry on asusual, the less bad it will seem. Now, let's plan what you can tacklefirst. 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'llsit down and talk until you can go on again." She hesitated."You--it doesn't trouble you to sit down?"
"Oh, no!" said Hardress, laughing for the first time. "It's anawfully docile leg!"
"Then, can you drive? There's the motor, and a roomy tub-cart, andthe carriage."
"Yes--I can drive."
"Oh, I say!" cried Norah inelegantly, struck by a brilliant idea."Can you drive a motor?"
"No, I can't! I'm sorry."
"I'm not. Con 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'tmind my risking his car?"
"Dad would laugh at such a foolish question," said Norah. "We'll goand see Con now--shall we? it's not far to the stables. You mighthave a lesson at once."
"Rather!" he said boyishly. "I say, Miss Linton, you are a brick!"
"Now about golf," Norah said, as they moved slowly away, Hardressleaning 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 livein the open air as much as possible. I can't play decently, butCaptain Garrett is staying here, and Jim and Wally come over prettyoften."
"You might let me teach _you_ to play," he suggested. "Would you careto?"
"Oh, I'd love it," said Norah, beaming. The beam, had he known it,was one of delight at the new ring in her patient's voice. Life hadcome back to it: he held his head erect, and his eyes were no longerhopeless.
"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," Norah said. "Why not practise on him?He stands like a rock. I won't stay and look at you, but Concould--you see he's lost a leg himself, so you wouldn't mind him. I'msure you'll find you can manage--and when you get confidence we'll goout together."
"Well, you would put hope into--into a dead codfish!" he said. "GreatScott, if I thought I could get on a horse again!"
Norah laughed.
"We're all horse-mad," she said. "If I were--like you, I know that toride would be the thing that would help me most. So you have just gotto." They had arrived at the stables, where Con had the car out andwas 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."
"'Tis as many as I have meself," returned Con cheerfully. "And I'mnot that bad a driver, am I, Miss Norah?"
"You're not," Norah answered. "Now I'll leave you to Con, CaptainHardress: I suppose you'll learn all about the car before you begin todrive her. Con can run you round to the house afterwards, if you'retired. The horses are in the stables, too, if you'd care to look atthem."
"Jones have the brown pair out, miss," said Con. "But the others areall here."
"Well, you can show them to Captain Hardress, Con. I want him tobegin riding Brecon."
She smiled at Hardress, and ran off, looking back just before theshrubberies hid the stable-yard. Hardress was peering into the bonnetof the car, with Con evidently explaining its inner mysteries; just asshe looked, he straightened up, and threw off his coat with a quickgesture.
"_He_'s all right," said Norah 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 MajorHunt, who was developing rapidly in playing a one-armed game, and wasextremely interested in his own progress. It was the day for postingto Australia, and there was a long letter to Brownie to be finished,and one to Jean Yorke, her chum in Melbourne. Already it was late; inthe 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--Norah," he said with relief. "I've been looking for you. Here'sa letter from Harry Trevor, of all people!"
"Harry!" said Norah delightedly. "Oh, I'm so glad! Where is he,Dad?"
"He's in London--this letter has been wandering round after us. Weought to have had it days ago. Harry has a commission now--got it onthe field, in Gallipoli, more power to him: and he's been wounded andsent to England. But he says he's all right."
"Oh, won't Jim and Wally be glad!" Harry Trevor was an oldschool-fellow whom Fate had taken to Western Australia; it was yearssince they had met.
"He has two other fellows with him, he says; and he doesn't know anyone in London, nor do they. His one idea seems to be to see us. Whatare we to do, Norah? Can we have them here?"
"Why we _must_ have them," Norah said. She made a swift mentalcalculation. "Yes--we can manage it."
"You're sure," asked her father, evidently relieved. "I was afraid itmight be too much for the house; and I would be very sorry to put themoff."
"Put off Australians, even if one of them wasn't Harry!" ejaculatedNorah. "We couldn't do it! How will you get them, Dad?"
"I'll telephone to their hotel at once," said her father. "Shall Itell them to come to-day?"
"Oh, yes. You can arrange the train, Dad. Now I'll go and see Mrs.Atkins."
"'Tis yourself has great courage entirely," said her father, lookingat her respectfully. "I'd rather tackle a wild buffalo!"
"I'm not sure that I wouldn't," returned Norah. "However, she's allthe buffalo I've got, so I may as well get it over." She turned asshe reached the door. "Tell old Harry how glad we are, Dad. Anddon't you think you ought to let Jim know?"
"Yes--I'll ring him up too." And off went Norah, singing. ThreeAustralians--in "dear little Surrey!" It was almost too good to betrue.
But Mrs. Atkins did not think so. She was sorting linen, with a sourface, when Norah entered her sanctum and made known her news. Thehousekeeper 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," Norah said. "We can puta 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 Norah.
"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 Norah. "It doesn'tmatter."
"Not matter! Well, upon my word!" ejaculated Mrs. Atkins. "Well, allI can say, miss, is that it's very funny. And how do you think themaids are going to do all that extra work?"
Norah began to experience a curious feeling of tingling.
"I am quite sure the maids can manage it," she said, commanding hervoice with an effort. "For one thing, I can easily help more than Ido now."
"We're not accustomed in this country to young ladies doing that sortof thing," said Mrs. Atkins. Her evil temper mastered her. "And yourpet cook, the fine lady who's too grand to sit with me----"
Norah found her voice suddenly calm.
"You mustn't speak to me like that, Mrs. Atkins," she said, marvellingat her own courage. "You will have to go away if you can't behaveproperly."
Mrs. Atkins choked.
"Go away!" she said thickly. "Yes, I'll go away. I'm not going tostay in a house like this, that's no more and no less than aboarding-house! You and your friend the cook can----"
"Be quiet, woman!" said a voice of thunder. Norah, who had shrunkback before the angry housekeeper, felt a throb of relief as Allenbystrode into the room. At the moment there was nothing of the butlerabout him--he was Sergeant Allenby, and Mrs. Atkins was simply arefractory private.
"I won't be quiet!" screamed the housekeeper. "I----"
"You will do as you're told," said Allenby, dropping a heavy hand onher shoulder. "That's enough, now: not another word. Now go to yourroom. Out of 'ere, or I'll send for the police."
Something in the hard, quiet voice filled Mrs. Atkins with terror.She cast a bitter look at Norah, and then slunk out of the room.Allenby closed the door behind her.
"I'm very sorry, miss," he said--butler once more. "I hope she didn'tfrighten you."
"Oh, no--only she was rather horrible," said Norah. "Whatever is thematter with her, Allenby? I hadn't said anything to make her soidiotic."
"I've been suspecting what was the matter these last three days," saidAllenby darkly. "Look 'ere, miss." He opened a cupboard, disclosingrows of empty bottles. "I found these 'ere this morning when she wasin the kitchen: I'd been missing bottles from the cellar. She musthave another key to the cellar-door, 'owever she managed it."
There came a tap at the door, and Mr. Linton came in--to have thesituation briefly explained to him.
"I wouldn't have had it happen for something," he said angrily. "Mypoor little girl, I didn't think we were letting you in for this sortof thing."
"Why, you couldn't help it," Norah said. "And she didn't hurt me--shewas only unpleasant. But I think we had better keep her out of Missde Lisle's way, or she might be hard to handle."
"That's so, miss," said Allenby. "I'll go and see. 'Ard to 'andle!I should think so!"
"See that she packs her box, Allenby," said Mr. Linton. "I'll writeher cheque at once, and Con can take her to the station as soon as sheis 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 Norah, looking unhappy. "Whateverwill you do, my girl?--and this houseful of people! I'd bettertelephone Harry and put his party off."
"Indeed you won't," said Norah, very cheerfully. "I'll manage, Dad.Don't you worry. I'm going to talk to Miss de Lisle."
The cook-lady was not in the kitchen. Katty, washing vegetablesdiligently, referred Norah to her sitting-room, and there she wasfound, knitting a long khaki muffler. She heard the story in silence.
"So I must do just the best I can, Miss de Lisle," Norah ended. "AndI'm wondering if you think I must really advertise for anotherhousekeeper. It didn't seem to me that Mrs. Atkins did much exceptgive orders, and surely I can do that, after a little practice."Norah flushed, and looked anxious. "Of course I don't want to make amess of the whole thing. I know the house must be well run."
"Well," said Miss de Lisle, knitting with feverish energy, "I couldn'thave said it if you hadn't asked me, but as you have, I would like topropose something. Perhaps it may sound as if I thought too much ofmyself, but with a cook like me you don't need a housekeeper. I havea conscience: and I know how things ought to be run. So my proposalis this, and you and your father must just do as you like about it.Why not make me cook-housekeeper?"
"Oh, but could you?" Norah cried delightedly. "Wouldn't it be toomuch work?"
"I don't think so--of course I'm expecting that you're going to helpin supervising things. I can teach you anything. You see, Katty is atreasure. I back down in all I ever thought about Irish maids," saidthe cook-lady, parenthetically. "And she makes me laugh all day, andI wouldn't be without her for anything. Give me a smart boy in thekitchen for the rough work; then Katty can do more of the plaincooking, which she'll love, and I shall have more time out of thekitchen. Now what do you say?"
"Me?" said Norah. "I'd like to hug you!"
"I wish you would," said Miss de Lisle, knitting more frantically thanever. "You see, this is the first place I've been in where I'vereally been treated like a human being. You didn't patronize me, andyou didn't snub me--any of you. But you laughed with me; and it was amighty long time since laughing had come into my job. Dear me!"finished Miss de Lisle--"you've no idea how at home with you all I'vefelt since Allenby fell over me in the passage!"
"We loved you from that minute," said Norah, laughing. "Then youthink we can really manage? You'll have to let me consult with youover everything--ordering, and all that: because I do want to learn myjob. And you won't mind how many people we bring in?"
"Fill the house to explosion-point, if you like," said Miss de Lisle."If you don't have a housekeeper you'll have two extra rooms to putyour Tired People in. What's the good of a scheme like this if youdon't run it thoroughly?"
She found herself suddenly hugged, to the no small disadvantage of theknitting.
"Oh, I'm so happy!" Norah cried. "Now I'm going to enjoy the Home forTired People: and up till now Mrs. Atkins has lain on my soul like aton of bricks. Bless you, Miss de Lisle! I'm going to tell Dad."Her racing footsteps flew down the corridor.
But Miss de Lisle sat still, with a half smile on her rugged face.Once she put her hand up to the place where Norah's lips had brushedher cheek.
"Dear me!" she murmured. "Well, it's fifteen years since any one did_that_." Still smiling, she picked up the knitting.