Captain Jim

by Mary Grant Bruce

  CHAPTER IV

  SETTLING IN

  They bade good-bye to the flat early next morning and went down toHomewood through a dense fog that rolled up almost to the carriagewindows like masses of white wool. At the station the closed carriagewaited for them, with the brown cobs pawing the ground impatiently.General Somers' chauffeur had gone with his master, and so far theyhad not succeeded in finding a substitute, but the groom and coachman,who were also gardeners in their spare time, considered themselvespart and parcel of the place, and had no idea of changing their home.

  "The cart for the luggage will be here presently, sir," Jones, the oldcoachman, told Mr. Linton. So they left a bewildering assortment ofsuit-cases and trunks piled up on the platform in the care of anancient porter, and packed themselves into the carriage. Norah waswont to say that the only vehicle capable of accommodating her threelong men-folk comfortably was an omnibus. The fog was lifting as theyrolled smoothly up the long avenue; and just as they came within sightof the house a gleam of pale sunlight found its way through the mistyclouds and lingered on the ivy-clad gables. The front door was flungwide to welcome them: on the steps hovered the ex-sergeant, wearing adiscreet smile. Behind him fluttered a print dress and a white apron,presumably worn by his niece.

  "I say, Norah, don't you feel like the Queen of Sheba entering herancestral halls?" whispered Wally wickedly, as they mounted the steps.

  "If she felt simply horrible, then I do!" returned Norah. "I supposeI'll get used to it in time, but at present I want a hollow log tocrawl into!"

  Allenby greeted them respectfully.

  "We did not know what rooms you would like, sir," he said. "They areall practically ready, of course. My niece, miss, thought you mightprefer the blue bedroom. Her name is Sarah, miss."

  "We don't want the best rooms--the sunniest, I mean," Norah said."They must be for the Tired People, mustn't they, Dad?"

  "Well, there are no Tired People, except ourselves, at present," saidher father, laughing. "So if you have a fancy for any room, you hadbetter take it, don't you think?"

  "Well, we'll tour round, and see," said Norah diplomatically, withmental visions of the sudden "turning-out" of rooms should wearyguests arrive. "It might be better to settle down from the first aswe mean to be."

  "A lady has come, miss," said Allenby. "I understood her to say shewas the cook, but perhaps I made a mistake?" He paused,questioningly, his face comically puzzled.

  "Oh--Miss de Lisle?"

  "Yes, miss."

  "Oh, yes, she's the cook," said Norah. "And the housekeeper--Mrs.Atkins?"

  "No one else has arrived, miss."

  "Well, I expect she'll come," said Norah. "At least she promised."

  "Miss de Lisle, miss, asked for her kitchenmaid."

  "There isn't one, at present," said Norah, feeling a little desperate.

  "Oh!" said Allenby, looking blank. "I--I am afraid, miss, that thelady expects one."

  "Well, she can't have one until one comes," said Mr. Linton. "Cheerup, Norah, I'll talk to Miss de Lisle."

  "I'll be the kitchenmaid, if necessary," said Wally cheerfully. "Whatdoes one do?"

  Allenby shuddered visibly.

  "My niece, I am sure, will do all she can, sir," he said. His gazedwelt on Wally's uniform; it was easy to see him quailing in spiritbefore the vision of an officer with a kitchen mop. "Perhaps, miss,if you would like to see the rooms?"

  They trooped upstairs, the silent house suddenly waking to life withthe quick footsteps and cheery voices. The big front bedrooms were atonce put aside for future guests. Norah fell in love with, andpromptly appropriated, a little room that appeared to have been tuckedinto a corner by the architect, as an afterthought. It was curiouslyshaped, with a quaint little nook for the bed, and had a big windowfurnished with a low cushioned seat, wide enough for any one to curlup with a book. Mr. Linton and the boys selected rooms principallyremarkable for bareness. Jim had a lively hatred for furniture; theyleft him discussing with Allenby the question of removing aspindle-legged writing table. Mr. Linton and Norah went downstairs,with sinking hearts, to encounter Miss de Lisle.

  On the way appeared Sarah; very clean and starched as to dress, verypink and shiny as to complexion. Her hair was strained back from herforehead so tightly it appeared to be pulling her eyes up.

  "Oh, Sarah," said Mr. Linton, pausing.

  "Yes, sir," said Sarah meekly.

  "You may be required to help the cook for a few days untilwe--er--until the staff is complete," said her employer. "Your uncletells me you will have no objection."

  "It being understood, sir, as it is only tempory," said Sarah firmly.

  "Oh, quite," said Mr. Linton hurriedly.

  "And of course I will help you with the housework, Sarah," put inNorah.

  Sarah looked more wooden than before.

  "Thank you, miss, I'm sure," she returned.

  They went on.

  "Doesn't she make you feel a worm!" said Norah.

  "This is a terrible business, Norah!" said Mr. Linton fervently. "Ididn't guess what Brownie was saving me from, all these years."

  They found Miss de Lisle in the kitchen, where an enormous rangeglowed like a fiery furnace, in which respect Miss de Lisle ratherresembled it. She was a tall, stout woman, dressed in an overallseveral sizes too small for her. The overall was rose-coloured, andMiss de Lisle was many shades deeper in hue. She accepted theirgreetings without enthusiasm, and plunged at once into a catalogue ofgrievances.

  "The butler tells me there is no kitchenmaid," she boomed wrathfully."And I had not expected such an antiquated range. Nor could Ipossibly manage with these saucepans"--sweeping a scornful handtowards an array which seemed to the hapless Lintons to err only onthe side of magnificence. "There will be a number of necessary items.And where am I to sit? You will hardly expect me to herd with theservants."

  "It would be rough on them!" rose to Norah's lips. But she prudentlykept the reflection to herself.

  "To sit?" echoed Mr. Linton. "Why, I really hadn't thought of it."His brow cleared. "Oh--there is the housekeeper's room."

  "And who is the housekeeper? Is she a lady?"

  "She hasn't said so, yet," said Mr. Linton. It was evident that heconsidered this a point in the absent housekeeper's favour. Miss deLisle flamed anew.

  "I cannot sit with your housekeeper," she averred. "You mustremember, Mr. Linton, that I told you when engaging with you, that Iexpected special treatment."

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

  Miss de Lisle sniffed.

  "It's not what I am accustomed to," she said. "However, I will wait.And the kitchenmaid?"

  "I can't make a kitchenmaid out of nothing," said Mr. Linton gloomily."I hope to hear of one in a day or two; I have written to Ireland."

  "To Ireland!" ejaculated Miss de Lisle in accents of horror. "My dearsir, do you know what Irish maids are like?"

  "They're the nicest maids I know," said Norah, speaking for the firsttime. "And so kind and obliging."

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

  "Well, we'll all help," said Norah. "Sarah will give you a hand untilwe get settled, and my brother and Mr. Meadows and I can do anything.There can't be such an awful lot of work!" She stopped. Miss deLisle was regarding her with an eye in which horror and amazement weremingled.

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

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

  "I trust that I have never been afraid of work," said Miss de Lisleseverely. "But I have my position to consider. There are dutieswhi
ch belong to it, and other duties which do not. My province iscooking. Cooking. And nothing else. Who, I ask, is to keep mykitchen clean?"

  "Me, if necessary," said a voice in which Allenby the butler wasclearly merged in Allenby the sergeant. "Begging your pardon, sir."He was deferential again--save for the eye with which he glared uponMiss de Lisle. "I think, perhaps, between me and Sarah and--er--thislady, we can arrange matters for the present without troubling you orMiss Linton."

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

  "I'm going to love Allenby," she said with conviction, as they gainedthe outer regions.

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

  "Here's another, anyhow," said Norah with a wild inclination togiggle.

  A dismal cab halted at a side entrance, and the driver was strugglingwith a stout iron trunk. The passenger, a tall, angular woman, wasstanding in the doorway.

  "The housekeeper!" breathed Mr. Linton faintly. "Do you feel equal toher, Norah?" He fled, with disgraceful weakness, to thebilliard-room.

  "Good morning," Norah said, advancing.

  "Good morning," returned the newcomer, with severity. "I have rungthree times."

  "Oh--we're a little shorthanded," said Norah, and began to gigglehopelessly, to her own dismay. Her world seemed suddenly full ofimportant upper servants, with no one to wait on them. It was ratherterrible, but beyond doubt it was very funny--to an Australian mind.

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

  "I'm afraid I don't know which is your room," Norah said, recoveringunder that fish-like glare. "You see, we've only just come. I'llsend Allenby." She hurried off, meeting the butler in the passage.

  "Oh, Allenby," she said; "it's the housekeeper. And her trunk.Allenby, what does a housekeeper do? She won't clean the kitchen forMiss de Lisle, will she?"

  "I'm afraid not, miss," said Allenby. His manner grew confidential;had he not been so correct a butler, Norah felt that he might havepatted her head. "Now look, miss," he said. "You just leave themwomen to me; I'll fix them. And don't you worry."

  "Oh, thank you, Allenby," said Norah gratefully. She followed in herfather's wake, leaving the butler to advance upon the wrathful figurethat yet blocked the side doorway.

  In the billiard-room all her men-folk were gathered, looking guilty.

  "It's awful to see you all huddling together here out of the storm!"said Norah, laughing. "Isn't it all terrible! Do you think we'llever settle down, Daddy?"

  "Indeed, I wouldn't be too certain," responded Mr. Linton gloomily."How did you get on, Norah? Was she anything like Miss de Lisle?That's an appalling woman! She ought to stand for Parliament!"

  "She's not like Miss de Lisle, but I'm not sure that she's any nicer,"said Norah. "She's very skinny and vinegarish. I say, Daddy, aren'twe going to have a wild time!"

  "Well, if she and the cook-lady get going the encounter should beworth seeing," remarked Jim. "Talk about the Kilkenny cats!"

  "I only hope it will come off before we go," said Wally gleefully."We haven't had much war yet, have we, Jim? I think we deserve to seea little."

  "I should much prefer it in some one else's house," said Mr. Lintonwith haste. "But it's bound to come, I should think, and then I shallbe called in as referee. Well, Australia was never like this. Still,there are compensations."

  He went out, returning in a moment with a battered hat of soft greyfelt.

  "Now you'll be happy!" said Norah, laughing.

  "I am," responded her father. He put on the hat with tender care. "Ihaven't been so comfortable since I was in Ireland. It's one of thehorrors of war that David Linton of Billabong has worn a stiff bowlerhat for nearly a year!"

  "Never mind, no one in Australia would believe it unless they saw itphotographed!" said Jim soothingly. "And it hasn't had to be atop-hat, so you really haven't had to bear the worst."

  "That is certainly something," said his father. "In the dim future Isuppose you and Norah may get married; but I warn you here and nowthat you needn't expect me to appear in a top-hat. However, there'sno need to face these problems yet, thank goodness. Suppose we leavethe kitchen to fight it out alone, and go and inspect the cottage?"

  It nestled at the far side of a belt of shrubbery: a cheery, thatchedplace, with wide casement windows that looked out on a trim stretch ofgrass. At one side there was actually a little verandah! a sight sounusual in England that the Australians could scarcely believe theireyes. Certainly it was only a very tiny verandah.

  Within, all was bright and cheery and simple. The cottage had beenused as a "barracks" when the sons of a former owner had brought homeboy friends. Two rooms were fitted with bunks built against the wall,as in a ship's cabin: there was a little dining-room, plainlyfurnished, and a big sitting-room that took up the whole width of thebuilding, and had casement windows on three sides. There was a roomykitchen, from which a ladder-like staircase ascended to big attics,one of which was fitted as a bedroom.

  "It's no end of a jolly place," was Jim's verdict. "I don't know thatI wouldn't rather live here than in your mansion, Norah; but I supposeit wouldn't do."

  "I think it would be rather nice," Norah said. "But you can't,because we want it for the Hunts. And it will be splendid for them,won't it, Dad?"

  "Yes, I think it will do very well," said Mr. Linton. "We'll get thehousekeeper to come down and make sure that it has enough pots andpans and working outfit generally."

  "And then we'll go up to London and kidnap Mrs. Hunt and the babies,"said Norah, pirouetting gently. "Now, shall we go and see thehorses?"

  They spent a blissful half-hour in the stables, and arranged to ridein the afternoon--the old coachman was plainly delighted at theabsence of a chauffeur, and displayed his treasures with a pride towhich he had long been a stranger.

  "The 'orses 'aven't 'ad enough to do since Sir John used to come," hesaid. "The General didn't care for them--an infantry gent he musthave been--and it was always the motor for 'im. We exercised 'em, ofcourse, but it ain't the same to the 'orses, and don't they know it!"

  "Of course they do." Norah caressed Killaloe's lean head.

  "You'll hunt him, sir, won't you, this season?" asked Jones anxiously."The meets ain't what they was, of course, but there's a few goes outstill. The Master's a lady--Mrs. Ainslie; her husband's in France.He's 'ad the 'ounds these five years."

  "Oh, we'll hunt, won't we, Dad?" Norah's face glowed as she lifted it.

  "Rather!" said Jim. "Of course you will. What about the otherhorses, Jones? Can they jump?"

  "To tell you the truth, sir," said Jones happily, "there's not one ofthem that can't. Even the cobs ain't too bad; and the black ponythat's at the vet.'s, 'e's a flyer. 'E'll be 'ome to-morrow; the vet.sent me word yesterday that 'is shoulder's all right. Strained it abit, 'e did. Of course they ain't made hunters, like Killaloe; butthey're quick and clever, and once you know the country, and the shortcuts, and the gaps, you can generally manage to see most of a run."He sighed ecstatically. "Eh, but it'll be like old times to get readyagain on a hunting morning!"

  The gong sounded from the house, and they bade the stables a reluctantgood-bye. Lunch waited in the morning-room; there was a pleasantsparkle of silver and glass on a little table in the window. Andthere was no doubt that Miss de Lisle could cook.

  "If her temper were as good as her pastry, I should say we had found atreasure," said Mr. Linton, looking at the fragments which remained ofa superlative apple-pie. "Let's hope that Mrs. Moroney will discovera kitchenmaid or two, and that they will induce her to overlook ourother shortcomings."

  "I'm afraid we'll never be genteel enough for her," said Norah,shaking her curly head. "And the other servants will all hate herbecause she thinks they aren't fit for her to speak to. If she
onlyknew how much nicer Allenby is!"

  "Or Brownie," said Wally loyally. "Brownie could beat that pie withone hand tied behind her."

  Allenby entered--sympathy on every line of his face.

  "The 'ousekeeper--Mrs. Atkins--would like to see you, sir. Or MissLinton. And so would Miss de Lisle."

  But Miss de Lisle was on his heels, breathing threatenings andslaughter.

  "There must be some arrangement made as to my instructions," sheboomed. "Your housekeeper evidently does not understand my position.She has had the impertinence to address me as 'Cook.' Cook!" Shepaused for breath, glaring.

  "But, good gracious, isn't it your profession?" asked Mr. Linton.

  Miss de Lisle fairly choked with wrath. Wally's voice fell like oilon a stormy sea.

  "If I could make a pie like that I'd _expect_ to be called 'Cook,'"said he. "It's--it's a regular poem of a pie!" Whereat Jim choked inhis turn, and endeavoured, with signal lack of success, to turn hisemotion into a sneeze.

  Miss de Lisle's lowering countenance cleared somewhat. She looked atWally in a manner that was almost kindly.

  "War-time cookery is a makeshift, not an art," she said. "Before thewar I could have shown you what cooking could be."

  "That pie wasn't a makeshift," persisted Wally. "It was a dream. Isay, Miss de Lisle, can you make pikelets?"

  "Yes, of course," said the cook-lady. "Do you like them?"

  "I'd go into a trap for a pikelet," said Wally, warming to his task."Oh, Norah, do ask Miss de Lisle if she'll make some for tea!"

  "Oh, do!" pleaded Norah. As a matter of stern fact, Norah preferredbread-and-butter to pikelets, but the human beam in the cook-lady'seye was not to be neglected. "We haven't had any for ages." She castabout for further encouragement for the beam. "Miss de Lisle, Isuppose you have a very special cookery-book?"

  "I make my own recipes," said the cook-lady with pride. "But for thewar I should have brought out my book."

  "By Jove, you don't say so!" said Jim. "I say, Norah, you'll have toget that when it comes out."

  "Rather!" said Norah. "I wonder would it bother you awfully to showme some day how to make meringues? I never can get them right."

  "We'll see," said Miss de Lisle graciously. "And would you reallylike pikelets for tea?"

  "Please--if it wouldn't be too much trouble."

  "Very well." Jim held the door open for the cook-lady as she marchedout. Suddenly she paused.

  "You will see the housekeeper, Mr. Linton?"

  "Oh, certainly!" said David Linton hastily. The door closed; behindit they could hear a tread, heavy and martial, dying away.

  "A fearsome woman!" said Mr. Linton. "Wally, you deserve a medal!But are we always to lick the ground under the cook's feet in thisfashion?"

  "Oh, she'll find her level," said Jim. "But you'd better tell Mrs.Atkins not to offend her again. Talk to her like a father, Dad--sayshe and Miss de Lisle are here to run the house, not to bother you andNorah."

  "It's excellent in theory," said his father sadly, "but in practice Ifind my tongue cleaving to the roof of my mouth when these militantfemales tackle me. And if you saw Mrs. Atkins you would realize howdifficult it would be for me to regard her as a daughter. But I'll domy best."

  Mrs. Atkins, admitted by the sympathetic Allenby, proved less fiercethan the cook-lady, although by no stretch of imagination could shehave been called pleasant.

  "I have never worked with a cook as considered herself a lady," sheremarked. "It makes all very difficult, and no kitchen-maid, and am Iin authority or am I not? And such airs, turning up her nose at beingcalled Cook. Which if she is the cook, why not be called so? Andgoing off to her bedroom with her dinner, no one downstairs being goodenough to eat with her. I must say it isn't what I'm used to, and melived with the first families. _Quite_ the first." Mrs. Atkinsceased her weary monologue and gazed on the family with consciousvirtue. She was dressed in dull black silk, and looked overwhelminglyrespectable.

  "Oh, well, you must put up with things as they are," said Mr. Lintonvaguely. "Miss de Lisle expects a few unusual things, but apparentlythere is no doubt that she can do her work. I hope to have more maidsin a few days; if not"--a brilliant idea striking him--"I must sendyou up to London to find us some, Mrs. Atkins."

  "I shall be delighted, sir," replied the housekeeper primly. "And doI understand that the cook is to have a separate sitting-room?"

  "Oh, for goodness' sake, ask Allenby!" ejaculated her employer. "Itwill have to be managed somewhere, or we shall have no cook!"