Captain Jim

by Mary Grant Bruce

  CHAPTER V

  HOW THE COOK-LADY FOUND HER LEVEL

  Two days later, the morning mail brought relief--not too soon, forthere was evidence that the battle between the housekeeper and thecook-lady could not be much longer delayed, and Sarah was going aboutwith a face of wooden agony that gave Norah a chilly feeling whenevershe encountered her. Allenby alone retained any cheerfulness; andmuch of that was due to ancient military discipline. Therefore Mrs.Moroney's letter was hailed with acclamation. "Two maids she canrecommend, bless her heart!" said Mr. Linton. "She doesn't labeltheir particular activities, but says they'll be willing to doanything at all."

  "That's the kind I like," said Norah thankfully.

  "And their names are Bride Kelly and Katty O'Gorman; doesn't thatbring Killard and brown bogs back to you? And--oh, by Jove!"

  "What is it?" demanded his family, in unison.

  "This is what it is. 'I don't know would your honour remember ConHegarty, that was shofer to Sir John at Rathcullen, and a decent boywith one leg and he after coming back from the war. He have no jobsince Sir John died, and he bid me tell you he'd be proud to drive acar for you, and to be with ye all. And if he have only one legitself he's as handy as any one with two or more. Sir John had himwith him at Homewood, and he knows the car that's there, and 'tis theway if you had a job for him he could take the two girls over when hewent, and he used to travelling the world.' That's all, I think," Mr.Linton ended.

  "What luck!" Jim ejaculated. "We couldn't have a better chauffeur."

  "I wonder we never thought of Con," said his father. "A nice boy; I'dlike to have him."

  "So would I," added Norah. "When will you get them, Dad?"

  "I'll write at once and send a cheque for their fares," said herfather. "I'll tell them to send me a telegram when they start." Herose to leave the room. "What are you going to do this morning,children?"

  "We're all turning out the cottage," Norah answered promptly. "Ihaven't told Sarah; she disapproves of me so painfully if I do anywork, and hurts my feelings by always doing it over again, ifpossible. At the same time, she looks so unhappy about working atall, and sighs so often, that I don't feel equal to telling her thatthe cottage has to be done. So Jim and Wally have nobly volunteeredto help me."

  "Don't knock yourself up," said her father. "Will you want me?"

  "No--unless you like to come as a guest and sit still and do nothing.My two housemaids and I can easily finish off that little job.There's not really a great deal to do," Norah added; "the place isvery clean. Only one likes to have everything extra nice when TiredPeople come."

  "Well, I'm not coming to sit still and do nothing," said her fatherfirmly, "so I'll stay at home and write letters." He watched themfrom the terrace a little later, racing across the lawn, and smiled alittle. It was so unlikely that this long-legged family of his wouldever really grow up.

  The house was very quiet that morning. Mrs. Atkins and Miss de Lislehaving quarrelled over the question of dinner, had retreated, the oneto the housekeeper's room, the other to the kitchen. Sarah went abouther duties sourly. Allenby was Sarah's uncle, and, as such, felt someduty to her, which he considered he had discharged in getting her agood place; beyond that, Sarah frankly bored him, and he saw no reasonto let her regard him as anything else than a butler. "Bad fordiscipline, too!" he reflected. Therefore Allenby was lonely. Heread the _Daily Mail_ in the seclusion of his pantry, and then,strolling through the hall, with a watchful eye alert lest a speck ofdust should have escaped Sarah, he saw his master cross the garden andstrike across the park in the direction of Hawkins' farm. Every oneelse was out, Allenby knew not where. An impulse for fresh air fellupon him, and he sauntered towards the shrubbery.

  Voices and laughter came to him from the cottage. He pushed throughthe shrubs and found himself near a window; and, peeping through,received a severe shock to his well-trained nerves. Norah, envelopedin a huge apron, was energetically polishing the kitchen tins; theboys, in their shirt-sleeves, were equally busy, Wally scrubbing thesink with Monkey soap, and Jim blackleading the stove. It was veryclear that work was no new thing to any of the trio. Allenby gaspedwith horror.

  "Officers, too!" he ejaculated. "What's the world coming to, Iwonder!" He hesitated a moment, and then walked round to the backdoor.

  "May I come in, please, miss?"

  "Oh, come in, Allenby," Norah said, a little confused. "We're busy,you see. Did you want anything?"

  "No, miss, thank you. But really, miss--I could 'ave got a woman fromthe village for you, to do all this. Or Sarah."

  "Sarah has quite enough to do," said Norah.

  "Indeed, Sarah's not killed with work," said that damsel's uncle. "Idon't like to see you soilin' your 'ands, miss. Nor the gentlemen."

  "The gentlemen are all right," said Wally cheerfully. "Look at thissink, now, Allenby; did you ever see anything better?"

  "It's--it's not right," murmured Allenby unhappily. He threw off hisblack coat suddenly, and advanced upon Jim. "If you please, sir, I'llfinish that stove."

  "That you won't," said Jim. "Thanks all the same, Allenby, but I'mgetting used to it now." He laughed. "Besides, don't you forget thatyou're a butler?"

  "I can't forget that you're an officer, sir," said Allenby,wretchedly. "It's not right: think of the regiment. And Miss Norah.Won't you let me 'elp sir?"

  "You can clean the paint, Allenby," said Norah, taking pity on hisdistressed face. "But there's really no need to keep you."

  "If you'd only not mind telling any of them at the 'ouse what I wasdoing," said the butler anxiously. "It 'ud undermine me position.There's that Miss de Lisle, now--she looks down on everybody enoughwithout knowin' I was doin' any job like this."

  "She shall never know," said Jim tragically, waving a blacklead brush."Now I'm off to do the dining-room grate. If you're deadly anxious towork, Allenby, you could wash this floor--couldn't he, Norah?"

  "Thanks very much, sir," said Allenby gratefully, "I'll leave thisplace all right--just shut the door, sir, and don't you bother aboutit any more."

  "However did you dare, Jim?" breathed Norah, as the cleaning partymoved towards the dining-room. "Do you think a butler ever washed afloor before?"

  "Can't say," said Jim easily. "I'm regarding him more as a sergeantthan a butler, for the moment--not that I can remember seeing asergeant wash a floor, either. But he seemed anxious to help, so whynot let him? It won't hurt him; he's getting disgracefully fat. Andthere's plenty to do."

  "Heaps," said Wally cheerily. "Where's that floor-polish, Nor? Theseboards want a rub. What are you going to do?"

  "Polish brass," said Norah, beginning on a window-catch. "When I growup I think I'll be an architect, and then I'll make the sort of housethat women will care to live in."

  "What sort's that?" asked Jim.

  "I don't know what the outside will be like. But it won't have anybrass to keep clean, or any skirting-boards with pretty tops to catchdust, or any corners in the rooms. Brownie and I used to talk aboutit. All the cupboards will be built in, so's no dust can get underthem, and the windows will have some patent dodge to open inwards whenthey want cleaning. And there'll be built-in washstands in everyroom, with taps and plugs----"

  "Brass taps?" queried Wally.

  "Certainly not."

  "What then?"

  "Oh--something. Something that doesn't need to be kept pretty. Andthen there will be heaps of cupboard-room and heaps ofshelf-room--only all the shelves will be narrow, so that nothing canbe put behind anything else."

  "Whatever do you mean?" asked Jim.

  "She means dead mice--you know they get behind bottles of jam," saidWally kindly. "Go on, Nor, you talk like a book."

  "Well, dead mice are as good as anything," said Norah lucidly. "Therewon't be any room for their corpses on _my_ shelves. And I'll havesome arrangement for supplying hot water through the house thatdoesn't depend on keeping a huge kitchen fire alight."
>
  "That's a good notion," said Jim, sitting back on his heels, blackleadbrush in hand. "I think I'll go architecting with you, Nor. We'll goin for all sorts of electric dodges; plugs in all the rooms to fix tovacuum cleaners you can work with one hand--most of 'em want two menand a boy; and electric washing-machines, and cookers, and fans andall kinds of things. And everybody will be using them, so electricitywill have to be cheap."

  "I really couldn't help listening to you," said a deep voice in thedoorway.

  Every one jumped. It was Miss de Lisle, in her skimpy redoverall--rather more flushed than usual, and a little embarrassed.

  "I hope you don't mind," she said. "I heard voices--and I didn'tthink any one lived here. I knocked, but you were all so busy youdidn't hear me."

  "So busy talking, you mean," laughed Wally. "Terrible chatterboxes,Jim and Norah; they never get any work done." A blacklead brushhurtled across the room: he caught it neatly and returned it to theowner.

  "But you're working terribly hard," said the cook-lady, inbewilderment. "Is any one going to live here?"

  Norah explained briefly. Miss de Lisle listened with interest,nodding her head from time to time.

  "It's a beautiful idea," she said at length. "Fancy now, you rescuingthose poor little children and their father and mother! It makes mefeel quite sentimental. Most cooks are sentimental, you know: it'ssuch a--a warm occupation," she added vaguely. "When I'm cookingsomething that requires particular care I always find myself crooninga love song!" At which Wally collapsed into such a hopeless gigglethat Jim and Norah, in little better case themselves, looked at him inhorror, expecting to see him annihilated. To their relief, Miss deLisle grinned cheerfully.

  "Oh, yes, you may laugh!" she said--whereupon they all did. "I know Idon't look sentimental. Perhaps it's just as well; nobody would wanta cook with golden hair and languishing blue eyes. And I do cook somuch better than I sing! Now I'm going to help. What can I do?"

  "Indeed, you're not," said Norah. "Thanks ever so, Miss de Lisle, butwe can manage quite well."

  "Now, you're thinking of what I said the other day," said Miss deLisle disgustedly. "I know I did say my province was cooking, andnothing else. But if you knew the places I've struck. Dear me, therewas one place where the footman chucked me under the chin!"

  It was too much for the others. They sat down on the floor andshrieked in unison.

  "Yes, I know it's funny," said Miss de Lisle. "I howled myself, afterit was all over. But I don't think the footman ever chucked any oneunder the chin again. I settled him!" There was a reminiscent gleamin her eye: Norah felt a flash of sympathy for the hapless footman.

  "Then there was another house--that was a duke's--where the butlerexpected me to walk out with him. That's the worst of it: if youbehave like a human being you get that sort of thing, and if you don'tyou're a pig, and treated accordingly." She looked at themwhimsically. "Please don't think me a pig!" she said. "I--I shallnever forget how you held the door open for me, Mr. Jim!"

  "Oh, I say, don't!" protested the unhappy Jim, turning scarlet.

  "Now you're afraid I'm going to be sentimental, but I'm not. I'mgoing to polish the boards in the passage, and then you can give meanother job. Lunch is cold to-day: I've done all the cooking. Now,please don't--" as Norah began to protest. "Dear me, if you only knewhow nice it is to speak to some one again!" She swooped upon Wally'stin of floor-polish, scooped half of its contents into the lid with ahair-pin, commandeered two cloths from a basketful of cleaningmatters, and strode off. From the passage came a steady pounding thatspoke of as much "elbow-grease" as polish being applied.

  "Did you ever!" said Jim weakly.

  "Never," said Wally. "I say, I think she's a good sort."

  "So do I. But who'd have thought it!"

  "Poor old soul!" said Norah. "She must be most horribly dull. Butafter our first day I wouldn't have dared to make a remark to herunless she'd condescended to address me first."

  "I should think you wouldn't," said Wally. "But she's really quitehuman when she tucks her claws in."

  "Oh, my aunt!" said Jim, chuckling. "I'd give a month's pay to haveseen the footman chuck her under the chin!" They fell intoconvulsions of silent laughter.

  From the passage, as they regained composure, came a broken melody,punctuated by the dull pounding on the floor. Miss de Lisle, on herknees, had become sentimental, and warbled as she rubbed.

  _"'I do not ask for the heart of thy heart.'"_

  "Why wouldn't you?" murmured Wally, with a rapt expression. "Any onewho can make pikelets like you----"

  "Be quiet, Wally," grinned Jim. "She'll hear you."

  "Not she--she's too happy. Listen."

  _"'All that I a-a-sk for is all that may be, All that thou ca-a-a-rest to give unto me! I do not ask'"----_

  Crash! Bang! Splash!

  "Heavens, what's happened!" exclaimed Jim.

  They rushed out. At the end of the passage Miss de Lisle and theirreproachable Allenby struggled in a heap--in an ever-widening poolof water that came from an overturned bucket lying a yard away. Thefamily rushed to the rescue. Allenby got to his feet as they arrived,and dragged up the drenched cook-lady. He was pale with apprehension.

  "I--I--do beg your pardon, mum!" he gasped. "I 'adn't an idea in me'ead there was any one there, least of all you on your knees. I justcome backin' out with the bucket!"

  "I say, Miss de Lisle, are you hurt?" Jim asked anxiously.

  "Not a bit, which is queer, considering Allenby's weight!" returnedMiss de Lisle. "But it's--it's just t-too funny, isn't it!" Shebroke into a shout of laughter, and the others, who had, indeed, beenchoking with repressed feeling, followed suit. Allenby, after agallant attempt to preserve the correct demeanour of a butler,unchanged by any circumstance, suddenly bolted into the kitchen like arabbit. They heard strange sounds from the direction of the sink.

  "But, I say, you're drenched!" said Jim, when every one felt a littlebetter.

  Miss de Lisle glanced at her stained and dripping overall.

  "Well, a little. I'll take this off," she said, suiting the action tothe word, and appearing in a white blouse and grey skirt which suitedher very much better than the roseate garment. "But my floor! And Ihad it so beautifully polished!" she raised her voice. "Allenby!What are you going to do about this floor?"

  "Indeed, mum, I've made a pretty mess of it," said Allenby,reappearing.

  "You have, indeed," said she.

  "But I never expected to find you 'ere a-polishin'," said thebewildered ex-sergeant.

  "And I certainly never expected to find the butler scrubbing!"retorted Miss de Lisle; at which Allenby's jam dropped, and he cast anappealing glance at Jim.

  "This is a working-bee," said Jim promptly. "We're all in it, and noone else knows anything about it."

  "Not Mrs. Atkins, I hope, sir," said Allenby.

  "Certainly not. As for Sarah, she's out of it altogether."

  Allenby sighed, a relieved butler.

  "I'll see to the floor, sir," he said. "It's up to me, isn't it? Andpolish it after. I can easy slip down 'ere for a couple of hoursafter lunch, when you're all out ridin'."

  "Then I really had better fly," said Miss de Lisle. "I am pretty wet,and there's lunch to think about." She looked at them in friendlyfashion. "Thank you all very much," she said--and was gone, with akind of elephantine swiftness.

  The family returned to the dining-room, leaving Allenby to grapplewith the swamp in the passage.

  "Don't we have cheery adventures when we clean house!" said Wallyhappily. "I wouldn't have missed this morning for anything."

  "No--it _has_ been merry and bright," Jim agreed. "And isn't thecook-lady a surprise-packet! I say, Nor, do you think you'd find ahuman side to Mrs. Atkins if we let Allenby fall over her with abucket of water?"

  "'Fraid not," said Norah.

  "You can't find what doesn't exist," said Wally wisely. "Mrs. Atkin
sis only a walking cruet--sort of mixture of salt and vinegar."

  They told the story to Mr. Linton over the luncheon-table, afterAllenby had withdrawn. Nevertheless, the butler, listening from hispantry to the shouts of laughter from the morning-room, had a fairlygood idea of the subject under discussion, and became rather pink.

  "It's lovely in another way," Norah finished. "For you see, I thoughtMiss de Lisle wasn't human, but I was all wrong. She's rather a dearwhen you come to know her."

  "Yes," said her father thoughtfully. "But you'll have to be careful,Norah; you mustn't make any distinctions between her and Mrs. Atkins.It doesn't matter if Miss de Lisle's pedigree is full of dukes andbishops--Mrs. Atkins is the upper servant, and she'll resent it if youput Miss de Lisle on a different footing to herself."

  "Yes, I see," said Norah, nodding. "I'll do my best, Dad."

  Miss de Lisle, however, played the game. She did not encounter Norahoften, and when she did it was in Mrs. Atkins' presence: and on theseoccasions she maintained an attitude of impersonal politeness whichmade it hard to realize that she and the butler had indeed bathedtogether on the floor of the cottage. She found various matters inher little sitting-room: an easy-chair, a flowering pot-plant, a pileof books that bore Norah's name--or Jim's; but she made no sign ofhaving received them except that Norah found on her table at night atwisted note in a masculine hand that said "Thank you.--C. de L." Asfor Mrs. Atkins, she made her silent way about the house, sour andwatchful, her green eyes rather resembling those of a cat, and herstep as stealthy. Norah tried hard to talk to her on other mattersthan housekeeping, but found her so stolidly unresponsive that at lastshe gave up the attempt. Life, as she said to Wally, was too short towoo a cruet-stand!

  The week flew by swiftly, every moment busy with work and plans forthe Tired People to come. Mrs. Atkins, it was plain, did not like thescheme. She mentioned that it would make a great deal of work, andhow did Norah expect servants in these days to put up with unexpectedpeople coming at all sorts of hours?

  "But," said Norah, "that's what the house is _for_. My father and Iwould not want a houseful of servants if we didn't mean to have ahouseful of people. What would we do with you all?" At which Mrs.Atkins sniffed, and replied haughtily that she had been in a placewhere there was only one lady, and _she_ kept eleven servants.

  "More shame for her," said Norah. "Anyhow, we explained it all to youwhen we engaged you, Mrs. Atkins. If we weren't going to have peoplehere we should still be living in London, in a flat. And if theservants won't do their work, we shall just have to get others whowill." Which was a terrible effort of firmness for poor Norah, whoinwardly hoped that Mrs. Atkins did not realize that she was shakingin her shoes!

  "Easier said than done, in war-time," said the housekeeper morosely."Servants don't grow on gooseberry-bushes now, and what they don'texpect----! Well, _I_ don't know what the world's coming to." ButNorah, feeling unequal to more, fled, and, being discovered by Wallyand Jim with her head in her hands over an account-book, was promptlytaken out on Killaloe--the boys riding the cobs, which theyuntruthfully persisted that they preferred.

  Then came Tuesday morning: with early breakfast, and the boys oncemore in khaki, and Jones, in the carriage, keeping the browns movingin the chill air. Not such a hard parting as others they had knownsince for the present there was no anxiety: but from the days when Jimused to leave Billabong for his Melbourne boarding-school, good-byemorning had been a difficult one for the Lintons. They joked throughit in their usual way: it was part of the family creed to keep theflag flying.

  "Well, you may have us back at any time as your first Tired People,"said Wally, his keen face looking as though it never could grow weary."Machine-gun courses must be very fatiguing, don't you think, Jim?"

  "Poor dears!" said Norah feelingly. "We'll have a special beef-teadiet for you, and bath-chairs. Will they send you in an ambulance?"

  "Very likely, and then you'll be sorry you were so disrespectful,won't she, Mr. Linton?"

  "I'm afraid you can't count on it," said that gentleman, laughing."Norah's bump of respect isn't highly developed, even for me. You'llwrite soon, Jim, and tell us how you get on--and what your nextmovements are."

  "Rather," answered Jim. "Don't let the lady of the house wear off allher curls over the accounts, will you, Dad? I'd hate to see herbald!"

  "I'll keep an eye on her," said his father. "Now, boys; it's time youwere off."

  They shook hands with Allenby, to his secret gratification. He closedthe carriage door upon them, and stood back at attention, as theydrove off. From an upper window--unseen, unfortunately--a figure in ared overall leaned, waving a handkerchief.

  The train was late, and they all stamped about the platform--it was afrosty morning.

  "Buck up, old kiddie," said Jim. "We'll be home in no time. And lookafter Dad."

  "Yes--rather!" said Norah. "Send me all your socks when they wantdarning--which is every week."

  "Right." They looked at each other with the blank feeling of havingnothing to say that comes on station platforms or on the decks ofships before the final bell rings. Then the train came in sight, theelderly porter, expectant of a tip, bustled mightily with suit-casesand kit-bags, and presently they were gone. The two brown faces hungout of the carriage-window until the train disappeared round a curve.

  Norah and her father looked at each other.

  "Well, my girl," said he. "Now I suppose we had better begin ourjob."

  They went out to the carriage. Just as they were getting in, theancient porter hurried after them.

  "There's some people come by that train for you, sir."

  The Lintons turned. A thin man, with sad Irish eyes, was limping outof the station. Behind him came two girls.

  "Why, it's Con!" Norah cried.

  "It is, miss," said the chauffeur. "And the gerrls I have withme--Bridie and Katty."

  "But you didn't write," Mr. Linton said.

  "Well, indeed, I was that rushed, an' we gettin' off," said Con. "ButI give Patsy Burke the money and towld him to send the wire. But 'tisthe way with Patsy he'll likely think it'll do in a day or two as wellas any time." And as a matter of fact, the telegram duly arrivedthree days later--by which time the new arrivals had shaken down, andthere seemed some prospect of domestic peace in the Home for TiredPeople.