initial commit of ebook 27174HEADmain

1 files changed, 11039 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/old/27174.txt b/old/27174.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6f8a628
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/27174.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11039 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Captain Jim, by Mary Grant Bruce
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Captain Jim
+
+Author: Mary Grant Bruce
+
+Release Date: November 6, 2008 [EBook #27174]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPTAIN JIM ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Wendy Verbruggen
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CAPTAIN JIM
+
+By
+
+MARY GRANT BRUCE
+
+
+
+
+WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED
+
+LONDON AND MELBOURNE
+
+1919
+
+
+
+
+MADE IN ENGLAND
+
+PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN
+
+BY EBENEZER BAYLIS AND SON, LTD., THE
+
+TRINITY PRESS, WORCESTER, AND LONDON
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+CHAP.
+
+     I  John O'Neill's Legacy
+    II  The Home for Tired People
+   III  Of London and Other Matters
+    IV  Settling In
+     V  How the Cook-Lady Found her Level
+    VI  Kidnapping
+   VII  The Thatched Cottage
+  VIII  Assorted Guests
+    IX  Homewood Gets Busy
+     X  Australia in Surrey
+    XI  Cheero!
+   XII  Of Labour and Promotion
+  XIII  The End of a Perfect Day
+   XIV  Carrying On
+    XV  Prisoners and Captives
+   XVI  Through the Darkness
+  XVII  Lights Out
+ XVIII  The Watch on the Rhine
+   XIX  Reveille
+    XX  All Clear
+
+
+
+
+CAPTAIN JIM
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+JOHN O'NEILL'S LEGACY
+
+
+"Queer, isn't it?" Jim said.
+
+"Rather!" said Wally.
+
+They were sitting on little green chairs in Hyde Park.  Not far off
+swirled the traffic of Piccadilly; glancing across to Hyde Park
+Corner, they could see the great red motor-'buses, meeting, halting,
+and then rocking away in different directions, hooting as they fled.
+The roar of London was in their ears.
+
+It was a sunny morning in September.  The Park was dotted in every
+direction with shining perambulators, propelled by smart nurses in
+uniform, and tenanted by proud little people, fair-haired and rosy,
+and extremely cheerful.  Wally liked the Park babies.  He referred to
+them collectively as "young dukes."
+
+"They all look so jolly well tubbed, don't they?" he remarked,
+straying from the subject in hand.  "Might be soap advertisements.
+Look, there's a jolly little duke in that gorgeous white pram, and a
+bigger sized duke trotting alongside, with a Teddy-bear as big as
+himself.  Awful nice kids."  He smiled at the babies in the way that
+made it seem ridiculous that he should be grown-up and in uniform.
+
+"They can't both be dukes," said Jim literally.  "Can't grow more than
+one in a family; at least not at the same time, I believe."
+
+"Oh, well, it doesn't matter--and anyhow, the one in the pram's a
+duchess," returned Wally.  "I say, the duke's fallen in love with you,
+Jim."
+
+"The duke," a curly-haired person in a white coat, hesitated on the
+footpath near the two subalterns, then mustering his courage, came
+close to Jim and gravely presented him with his Teddy-bear.  Jim
+received the gift as gravely, and shook hands with the small boy, to
+his great delight.
+
+"Thanks, awfully," he said.  "It's a splendid Teddy, isn't it?"
+
+The nurse, greatly scandalized, swooped down upon her charge,
+exhorting him to be ashamed, now, and not worry the gentleman.  But
+the "duke" showed such distress when Jim attempted to return the
+Teddy-bear that the matter had to be adjusted by distracting his
+attention in the direction of some drilling soldiers, while Wally
+concealed the toy under the embroidered rug which protected the plump
+legs of the "duchess"--who submitted with delighted gurgles to being
+tickled under the chin.  They withdrew reluctantly, urged by the still
+horrified nurse.
+
+"See what it is to be beautiful and have the glad eye!" jeered Wally.
+"Dukes never give _me_ Teddy-bears!"
+
+"It's my look of benevolent age," Jim said, grinning.  "Anyhow, young
+Wally, if you'll stop beguiling the infant peerage, and attend to
+business, I'll be glad.  We'll have Norah and Dad here presently."
+
+"I'm all attention," said his friend.  "But there's nothing more to be
+said than that it _is_ rum, is there?  And we said that."
+
+"Norah gave me a letter from poor old O'Neill to show you," Jim said.
+"I'll read it, if you like."
+
+The merriment that was never very far from Wally Meadows' eyes died
+out as his chum unfolded a sheet of paper, closely written.
+
+"He wrote it in the hotel in Carrignarone, I suppose?" he asked
+gently.
+
+"Yes; just after dinner on the night of the fight.  You see, he was
+certain he wasn't coming back.  Anyhow, this is what he says:
+
+*****
+
+"My Dear Norah,--
+
+"If I am alive after to-night you will not get this letter: it is
+only to come to you if I shall have 'gone West.'  And please don't
+worry if I do go West.  You see, between you all you have managed
+almost to make me forget that I am just an apology for a man.  I did
+not think it could be done, but you have done it.  Still, now and then
+I remember, and I know that there will be long years after you have
+all gone back to that beloved Australia of yours when there will be
+nothing to keep me from realizing that I am crippled and a hunchback.
+To-night I have the one chance of my life of living up to the
+traditions of O'Neills who were fighting men; so if, by good luck, I
+manage to wing a German or two, and then get in the way of an odd
+bullet myself, you mustn't grudge my finishing so much more pleasantly
+than I had ever hoped to do.
+
+"If I do fall, I am leaving you that place of mine in Surrey.  I have
+hardly any one belonging to me, and they have all more money than is
+good for them.  The family estates are entailed, but this is mine to
+do as I please with.  I know you don't need it, but it will be a home
+for you and your father while Jim and Wally are fighting, if you care
+for it.  And perhaps you will make some use of it that will interest
+you.  I liked the place, as well as I could like any place outside
+Ireland; and if I can look back--and I am very sure that I shall be
+able to look back--I shall like to see you all there--you people who
+brought the sun and light and laughter of Australia into the grey
+shadows of my life--who never seemed to see that I was different from
+other men.
+
+"Well, good-bye--and God keep you happy, little mate.
+
+                                         "Your friend,
+                                           "John O'Neill."
+
+*****
+
+Jim folded the letter and put it back in his pocket, and there was a
+long silence.  Each boy was seeing again a strip of Irish beach where
+a brave man had died proudly.
+
+"Different!" Wall said, at last, with a catch in his voice.  "He
+wasn't different--at least, only in being a jolly sight better than
+most fellows."
+
+Jim nodded.
+
+"Well, he had his fight, and he did his bit, and, seeing how he felt
+about things, I'm glad for his sake that he went out," he said.  "Only
+I'm sorry for us, because it was a pretty big thing to be friends with
+a man like that.  Anyhow, we won't forget him.  We wouldn't even
+without this astonishing legacy of Norah's."
+
+"Have you any particulars about it?" Wally asked.
+
+"Dad got a letter from O'Neill too--both were sent to his lawyers; he
+must have posted them himself that evening in Carrignarone.  Dad's was
+only business.  The place is really left to him, in trust for Norah,
+until she comes of age; that's so that there wouldn't be any legal
+bother about her taking possession of it at once if she wants to.
+Poor old Norah's just about bowled over.  She felt O'Neill's death so
+awfully, and now this has brought it all back."
+
+"Yes, it's rough on Norah," Wally said.  "I expect she hates taking
+the place."
+
+"She can't bear the idea of it.  Dad and I don't much care about it
+either."
+
+Wally pondered.
+
+"May I see that letter again?" he asked presently.
+
+Jim Linton took out the letter and handed it to his friend.  He filled
+his pipe leisurely and lit it, while Wally knitted his brows over the
+sheet of cheap hotel paper.  Presently he looked up, a flash of
+eagerness in his keen brown eyes.
+
+"Well, I think O'Neill left that place to Norah with a purpose," he
+said.  "I don't believe it's just an ordinary legacy.  Of course, it's
+hers, all right; but don't you think he wanted something done with
+it?"
+
+"Done with it?"
+
+"Yes.  Look here," Wally put a thin forefinger on the letter.  "Look
+what he says--'Perhaps you will make some use of it that may interest
+you.' Don't you think that means something?"
+
+"I believe it might," Jim said cautiously.  "But what?"
+
+Wally hesitated.
+
+"Well, he was just mad keen on the War," he said.  "He was always
+planning what he could do to help, since he couldn't fight,--at least,
+since he thought he couldn't," the boy added with a sigh.  "I wonder
+he hadn't used it himself for something in connexion with the War."
+
+"He couldn't--it's let," Jim put in quickly.  "The lawyers wrote about
+it to Dad.  It's been let for a year, and the lease expires this
+month--they said O'Neill had refused to renew it.  That rather looks
+as if he had meant to do something with it, doesn't it?"
+
+Wally nodded vigorously.
+
+"I'll bet he did.  Now he's left it to Norah to carry on.  You see,
+they told us his own relations weren't up to much.  I expect he knew
+they wouldn't make any use of it except for themselves.  Why, it's as
+clear as mud, Jim!  O'Neill knew that Norah didn't actually need the
+place, and that she and your father wanted to be near you and still
+help the war themselves.  They didn't like working in London--Norah's
+too much of a kid, and your father says himself he's not trained.  Now
+they've got a perfectly ripping chance!"
+
+"Oh, bless you, Wally!" said a thankful voice behind them.
+
+The boys sprang to their feet.  Behind them stood a tall girl with a
+sun-tanned face and straight grey eyes--eyes that bore marks of tears,
+of which Norah for once was unashamed.  Her brown curls were tied back
+with a broad black ribbon.  She was very slender--"skinny," Norah
+would have said--but, despite that she was at what is known as "the
+awkward age," no movement of Norah Linton's was ever awkward.  She
+moved with something of the unconcerned grace of a deer.  In her blue
+serge coat and skirt she presented the well-groomed look that was part
+and parcel of her.  She smiled at the two boys, a little tremulously.
+
+"Hallo!" said her brother.  "We didn't hear you--where did you spring
+from?"
+
+"Dad dropped me at the Corner--he had to go on to Harrods," Norah
+answered.  "I came across the grass, and you two were so busy talking
+you didn't know I was there.  I couldn't help hearing what you said,
+Wally."
+
+"Well, I'm glad you did," Wally answered, "But what do you think
+yourself, Nor?"
+
+"I was just miserable until I heard you," Norah said.  "It seemed too
+awful to take Sir John's house--to profit by his death.  I couldn't
+bear it.  But of course you're right.  I do think I was stupid--I read
+his letter a dozen times, but I never saw it that way."
+
+"But you agree with Wally, now?" Jim asked.
+
+"Why, of course--don't you?  I suppose I might have had the sense to
+see his meaning in time, but I could only think of seeming to benefit
+by his death.  However, as long as one member of the family has seen
+it, it's all right."  She flashed a smile at Wally.  "I'm just ever so
+much happier.  It makes it all--different.  We were such--" her voice
+trembled--"such good chums, and now it seems as if he had really
+trusted us to carry on for him."
+
+"Of course he did," Wally said.  "He knew jolly well you would make
+good use of it, and it would help you, too, when Jim was away."
+
+"Jim?" said that gentleman.  "Jim?  What are you leaving yourself out
+for?  Aren't you coming?  Got a Staff job at home?"
+
+"I'm ashamed of you, Wally," said Norah severely.  "Of course, if you
+don't _want_ to belong----!"  Whereat Wally Meadows flushed and
+laughed, and muttered something unintelligible that nevertheless was
+quite sufficient for his friends.
+
+It was not a thing of yesterday, that friendship.  It went back to
+days of small-boyhood, when Wally, a lonely orphan from Queensland,
+had been Jim Linton's chum at the Melbourne Grammar School, and had
+fallen into a habit of spending his holidays at the Linton's big
+station in the north of Victoria, until it seemed that he was really
+one of the Billabong family.  Years had knitted him and Jim and Norah
+into a firm triumvirate, mates in the work and play of an Australian
+cattle-run; watched over by the silent grey man whose existence
+centred in his motherless son and daughter--with a warm corner in his
+affections for the lithe, merry Queensland boy, whose loyalty to
+Billabong and its people had never wavered since his childhood.
+
+Then, just as Jim had outgrown school and was becoming his father's
+right-hand man on the station, came the world-upheaval of the European
+War, which had whisked them all to England.  Business had, at the
+moment, summoned Mr. Linton to London; to leave Norah behind was not
+to be thought of, and as both the boys were wild to enlist, and Wally
+was too young to be accepted in Australia--though not in England--it
+seemed that the simplest thing to do was to make the pilgrimage a
+general one, and let the chums enlist in London.  They had joined a
+famous British regiment, obtaining commissions without difficulty,
+thanks to cadet training in Australia.  But their first experience of
+war in Flanders had been a short one: they were amongst the first to
+suffer from the German poison-gas, and a long furlough had resulted.
+
+Mr. Linton and Norah had taken them to Ireland as soon as they were
+fit to travel; and the bogs and moors of Donegal, coupled with
+trout-fishing, had gone far to effect a cure.  But there, unexpected
+adventure had awaited them.  They had made friends with Sir John
+O'Neill, the last of an old North of Ireland family: a half-crippled
+man, eating out his heart against the fate that held him back from an
+active part in the war.  Together they had managed to stumble on an
+oil-base for German submarines, concealed on the rocky coast; and,
+luck and boldness favouring them, to trap a U-boat and her crew.  It
+had been a short and triumphant campaign--skilfully engineered by
+O'Neill; and he alone had paid for the triumph with his life.
+
+John O'Neill had died happily, rejoicing in for once having played the
+part of a fighting man; but to the Australians his death had been a
+blow that robbed their victory of all its joy.  They mourned for him
+as for one of themselves, cherishing the memory of the high-souled man
+whose spirit had outstripped his weak body.  Jim and Wally, from
+exposure on the night of the fight, had suffered a relapse, and
+throat-trouble had caused their sick-leave to be extended several
+times.  Now, once more fit, they were back in London, expecting to
+rejoin their regiment immediately.
+
+"So now," Jim said, "the only question is, what are you going to do
+with it?"
+
+
+"I'm going to think hard for a day," said Norah.  "So can you two; and
+we'll ask Dad, of course."
+
+"And then Dad will tell you what to do," said Jim, grinning.
+
+"Yes of course he will.  Dad always has splendid ideas," said Norah,
+laughing.  "But we won't have any decision for a day, because it's a
+terribly big thing to think of.  I wish I was grown up--it must be
+easier to settle big questions if you haven't got your hair down your
+back!"
+
+"I don't quite see what your old curly mop has to do with it, but
+anyhow, you needn't be in a hurry to put it up," said her brother.
+"It's awful to be old and responsible, isn't it Wally?"  To which
+Wally responded with feeling, "Beastly!" and endeavoured to look more
+than nineteen--failing signally.
+
+"Let's go and look at the Row," Norah said.
+
+"Dad will find us all right, I suppose?" Jim hesitated.
+
+"Why, he couldn't miss you!" said Norah, laughing.  "Come on."
+
+Even when more than a year of War had made uniform a commonplace in
+London streets, you might have turned to look at Jim and Wally.  Jim
+was immensely tall; his chum little less so; and both were lean and
+clean-shaven, tanned to a deep bronze, and stamped with a look of
+resolute keenness.  In their eyes was the deep glint that comes to
+those who have habitually looked across great spaces.  The type has
+become familiar enough in London now, but it generally exists under a
+slouch hat; and these lads were in British uniform, bearing the badges
+of a famous marching regiment.  At first they had hankered after the
+cavalry, being much more accustomed to ride than to walk: but as the
+armies settled down into the Flanders mud it became increasingly
+apparent that this was not to be a horseman's war, and that therefore,
+as Wally put it, if they wanted to be in the fun, they had better make
+up their minds to paddle with the rest.  The amount of "fun" had so
+far been a negligible quantity which caused them some bitterness of
+spirit.  They earnestly hoped to increase it as speedily as might be,
+and to give the Hun as much inconvenience as they could manage in the
+process.
+
+They strolled across the grass to the railings, and looked up and down
+the tan ribbon of Rotten Row.  Small boys and girls, on smart ponies
+and woolly Shetlands, walked or trotted sedately; or occasionally
+galloped, followed by elderly grooms torn between pride and anxiety.
+Jim and Wally thought the famous Row an over-rated concern; failing to
+realize, from its war aspect, the Row of other days, crammed from
+fence to fence with beautiful horses and well-turned-out riders, and
+with half the world looking on from the railings.  Nowadays the small
+boys and girls had it chiefly to themselves, and could stray from side
+to side at their own sweet will.  A few ladies were riding, and there
+was a sprinkling of officers in khaki; obviously on Army horses and
+out for exercise.  Now and then came a wounded man, slowly, on a
+reliable cob or sturdy pony--bandages visible, or one arm in a sling.
+A few people sat about, or leaned on the fences, watching; but there
+was nothing to attract a crowd.  Every one looked business-like,
+purposeful; clothes were plain and useful, with little frippery.  The
+old glitter and splendour of the Row was gone: the London that used to
+watch it was a London that had forgotten how to play.
+
+Beyond the Row, carriages, drawn by beautiful pairs of horses,
+high-stepping, with harness flashing in the sunlight, drove up and
+down.  Some contained old ladies and grey-haired men; but nearly all
+bore a load of wounded soldiers, with sometimes a tired-faced nurse.
+
+"There's that nice old Lady Ellison--the one that used to take Jim and
+me out when we were in hospital," Wally said, indicating a carriage
+with a magnificent pair of bays.  "She was an old dear.  My word, I'd
+like to have the driving of those horses--in a good light buggy on the
+Billabong track!"
+
+"So would I," Jim assented.  "But I'd take those beastly bearing-reins
+off before I started."
+
+"Yes," said Norah eagerly.  "Poor darlings, how they must hate them!
+Jim, I wish we'd struck London when the coaches used to be seen."
+
+"Rather!" said Jim.  "Anstruther used to tell me about them.  Coaches
+bigger than Cobb & Co.'s, and smart as paint, with teams of four so
+matched you could hardly tell which was which--and educated beyond
+anything Australians could dream about.  There was one man--poor chap,
+Anstruther said he was drowned in the _Lusitania_--who had a team of
+four black cobs.  I think Anstruther used to dream about them at
+night; he got poetical and incoherent when he tried to describe 'em."
+
+"Fancy seeing a dozen or so of those coaches swinging down Piccadilly
+on a fine morning!" said Wally.  "That would be something to tell
+black Billy about, Norah!"
+
+"He'd only say Plenty!" said Norah, laughing.  "Look--there's Dad!"
+
+They turned to meet a tall grey man who came swinging across the grass
+with a step as light as his son's.  David Linton greeted them with a
+smile.
+
+"I knew I should find you as near as you could get to the horses," he
+said.  "This place is almost a rest-cure after Harrod's; I never find
+myself in that amazing shop without wishing I had a bell on my neck,
+so that I couldn't get lost.  And I always take the wrong lift and
+find myself among garden tools when all I want is collars."
+
+"Well, they have lifts round every corner: you want a special
+lift-sense not to take the wrong one," Norah defended him.
+
+"Yes, and when you ask your way anywhere in one of these fifty-acre
+London shops they say, 'Through the archway, sir,' and disappear: and
+you look round you frantically, and see about seventeen different
+archways, and there you are," Wally stated.  "So you plunge into them
+all in turn, and get hopelessly lost.  But it's rather fun."
+
+"I'd like it better if they didn't call me 'Moddam,'" said Norah.
+"'Shoes, Moddam?  Certainly, Moddam; first to the right, second to the
+left, lift Number fifteen, fifth floor and the attendant will direct
+you!'  Then you stagger into space, wishing for a wet towel round your
+head!"
+
+"I could almost believe," said her father, regarding her gravely,
+"that you would prefer Cunjee, with one street, one general store, one
+blacksmith's, and not much else at all."
+
+"Why, of course I do," Norah laughed.  "At least you can't get lost
+there, and you haven't got half a day's journey from the oatmeal place
+to the ribbon department: they'll sell you both at the same counter,
+and a frying-pan and a new song too!  Think of the economy of time and
+boot-leather!  And Mr. Wilkins knows all about you, and talks to you
+like a nice fat uncle while he wraps up your parcels.  And if you're
+on a young horse you needn't get off at all--all you have to do is to
+coo-ee, and Mr. Wilkins comes out prepared to sell you all his shop on
+the footpath.  If _that_ isn't more convenient than seventeen archways
+and fifty-seven lifts, then I'd like to know what is!"
+
+"Moddam always had a great turn of eloquence, hadn't she?" murmured
+Wally, eyeing her with respect.  Whereat Norah reddened and laughed,
+and accused him of sentiments precisely similar to her own.
+
+"I think we're all much the same," Jim said.  "London's all very well
+for a visit.  But just imagine what it would be if we didn't know we
+were going back to Billabong some day!"
+
+"What a horrible idea!" Norah said.  "But we are--when the old War's
+over, and the Kaiser has retired to St. Helena, and the Huns are busy
+building up Belgium and France.  And you'll both be captains, if you
+aren't brigadiers, and all Billabong will expect to see you come back
+in uniform glittering with medals and things."
+
+"I like their chance!" said Wally firmly.
+
+"Anyhow, we'll all go back; and that's all that matters," said Norah.
+Her eyes dwelt wistfully on the two tall lads.
+
+"And meanwhile," said Jim, "we'll all go down to Fuller's and have
+morning tea.  One thing, young Norah, you won't find a Fuller's in
+Cunjee!"
+
+"Why would I be trying?" Norah asked cheerfully.  "Sure isn't there
+Brownie at Billabong?"
+
+"Hear, hear!" agreed Wally.  "When I think of Brownie's pikelets----"
+
+"Or Brownie's scones," added Norah.  "Or her sponge-cakes."
+
+"Or Brownie's tea-pot, as large and as brown as herself," said Mr.
+Linton--"then London is a desert.  But we'll make the best of it for
+the present.  Come along to Fuller's."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE HOME FOR TIRED PEOPLE
+
+
+"To begin with," said Jim--"what's the place like?"
+
+"Eighty acres, with improvements," answered his father.  "And three
+farms--all let."
+
+"Daddy, you're like an auctioneer's advertisement," Norah protested.
+"Tell us what it is _like_--the house, I mean."
+
+"We'll run down and see it soon," said Mr. Linton.  "Meanwhile, the
+lawyers tell me it's a good house, Queen Anne style----"
+
+"What's that?" queried Jim.
+
+"Oh, gables and things," said Wally airily.  "Go on, sir, please."
+
+"Standing in well-timbered park lands," said Mr. Linton, fishing a
+paper out of his pocket, and reading from it.  "Sorry, Norah, but I
+can't remember all these thrills without the lawyers' letter.  Lounge
+hall, four reception rooms----"
+
+"Who are you going to receive, Nor?"
+
+"Be quiet," said Norah, aiming a cushion at the offender.  "Not you,
+if you're not extra polite!"
+
+"Be quiet, all of you, or I will discontinue this penny reading," said
+Mr. Linton severely.  "Billiard-room, thirteen bedrooms, three baths
+(h. and c.)----"
+
+"Hydraulic and condensed," murmured Wally.  Jim sat upon him with
+silent firmness, and the reading was unchecked.
+
+"Excellent domestic offices, modern drainage, central heating,
+electric plant, Company's water----"
+
+"What on earth----?" said Jim.
+
+"I really don't know," said his father.  "But I suppose it means you
+can turn taps without fear of a drought, or they wouldn't put it.
+Grounds including shady old-world gardens, walled kitchen garden,
+stone-flagged terrace, lily pond, excellent pasture.  Squash racquet
+court."
+
+"What's that?" asked Norah.
+
+"You play it with pumpkins," came, muffled, from beneath Jim.  "Let me
+up, Jimmy--I'll be good."
+
+"That'll be something unusual," said Jim, rising.  "Yes, Dad?"
+
+"Stabling, heated garage, thatched cottage.  Fine timber.  Two of the
+farms let on long leases; one lease expires with lease of house.  All
+in excellent order.  I think that's about all.  So there you are,
+Norah.  And what are you going to do with it?"
+
+It was the next morning, and the treacherous September sunshine had
+vanished, giving place to a cold, wet drizzle, which blurred the
+windows of the Lintons' flat in South Kensington.  Looking down,
+nothing was to be seen but a few mackintoshed pedestrians, splashing
+dismally along the wet, grey street.  Across the road the trees in a
+little, fenced square were already getting shabby, and a few leaves
+fluttered idly down.  The brief, gay English summer had gone; already
+the grey heralds of the sky sounded the approach of winter, long and
+cold and gloomy.
+
+"I've been thinking terribly hard," Norah said.  "I don't think I ever
+lay awake so long in my life.  But I can't make up my mind.  Of course
+it must be some way of helping the War.  But how?  We couldn't make it
+a hospital, could we?"
+
+"I think not," said her father.  "The hospital idea occurred to me,
+but I don't think it would do.  You see you'd need nurses and a big
+staff, and doctors; and already that kind of thing is organized.
+People well established might do it, but not lone Australians like you
+and me, Norah."
+
+"How about a convalescent home?"
+
+"Well, the same thing applies, in a less degree.  I believe, too, that
+they are all under Government supervision, and I must admit I've no
+hankering after that.  We wouldn't be able to call our souls our own;
+and we'd be perpetually irritated by Government under-strappers,
+interfering with us and giving orders--no, I don't think we could
+stand it.  You and I have always run our own show, haven't we,
+Norah--that is, until Jim came back to boss us!"  He smiled at his
+tall son.
+
+There was a pause.
+
+"Well, Dad--you always have ideas," said Norah, in the voice of one
+who waits patiently.
+
+Mr. Linton hesitated.
+
+"I don't know that I have anything very brilliant now," he said.  "But
+I was thinking--do you remember Garrett, the fellow you boys used to
+tell us about? who never cared to get leave because he hadn't any
+home."
+
+"Rather!" said the boys.  "Fellow from Jamaica."
+
+"He was an awfully sociable chap," Wally added, "and he didn't like
+cities.  So London bored him stiff when he was alone.  He said the
+trenches were much more homelike."
+
+"Well, there must be plenty of people like that," said Mr. Linton.
+"Especially, of course, among the Australians.  Fellows to whom leave
+can't mean what it should, for want of a home: and without any ties
+it's easy for them to get into all sorts of mischief.  And they should
+get all they can out of leave, for the sake of the War, if for nothing
+else: they need a thorough mental re-fitting, to go back fresh and
+keen, so that they can give the very best of themselves when the work
+begins again."
+
+"So you think of making Sir John's place into a Home for Tired
+people?" said Norah, excitedly.  "Dad, it's a lovely plan!"
+
+"What do you think, Jim?" asked Mr. Linton.
+
+
+"Yes, I think it's a great idea," Jim said slowly.  "Even the little
+bit of France we had showed us what I told you--that you've got to
+give your mind a spring-cleaning whenever you can, if you want to keep
+fit.  I suppose if people are a bit older they can stick it
+better--some of them, at least.  But when you're in the line for any
+time, you sometimes feel you've just _got_ to forget things--smells
+and pain, and--things you see."
+
+"Well, you'd forget pretty soon at a place like the one you've been
+reading about," said Wally.  "Do you remember, Jim, how old poor old
+Garrett used to look?  He was always cheery and ragging, and all that
+sort of thing, but often he used to look like his own grandfather, and
+his eyes gave you the creeps.  And he couldn't sleep."
+
+"'M!" said Jim.  "I remember.  If Garrett's still going, will you have
+him for your first patient, Nor?  What will you call them, by the
+way--guests? patients? cases?"
+
+"Inmates," grinned Wally.
+
+"Sounds like a lunatic asylum," rejoined Jim.  "How about lodgers?  Or
+patrons?"
+
+"They'll be neither, donkey," said Norah pleasantly.  "Just Tired
+People, I think.  Oh, Dad, I want to begin!"
+
+"You shouldn't call your superiors names, especially when I have more
+ideas coming to me," said Jim severely.  "Look here--I agree with Dad
+that you couldn't have a convalescent home, where you'd need nurses
+and doctors; but I do think you might ask fellows on final sick-leave,
+like us--who'd been discharged from hospitals, but were not quite fit
+yet.  Chaps not really needing nursing, but not up to much travelling,
+or to the racket and fuss of an hotel."
+
+"Yes," said Wally.  "Or chaps who had lost a limb, and were trying to
+plan out how they were going to do without it."  His young face looked
+suddenly grave; Norah remembered a saying of his once before--"I don't
+in the least mind getting killed, but I don't want Fritz to wing me."
+She moved a little nearer to him.
+
+"That's a grand idea--yours too, Jimmy," she said.  "Dad, do you think
+Sir John would be satisfied?"
+
+"If we can carry out our plan as we hope, I think he would," Mr.
+Linton said.  "We'll find difficulties, of course, and make mistakes,
+but we'll do our best, Norah.  And if we can send back to the Front
+cheery men, rested and refreshed and keen--well, I think we'll be
+doing our bit.  And after the War?  What then?"
+
+"I was thinking about that, too," said Norah.  "And I got a clearer
+notion than about using it now, I think.  Of course,"--she
+hesitated--"I don't know much about money matters, or if you think I
+ought to keep the place.  You see, you always seem to have enough to
+give us everything we want, Dad.  I won't need to keep it, will I?  I
+don't want to, even if I haven't got much money."
+
+"I'm not a millionaire," said David Linton, laughing.  "But--no, you
+won't need an English income, Norah."
+
+"I'm so glad," said Norah.  "Then when we go back to Billabong, Dad,
+couldn't we turn it all into a place for partly-disabled
+soldiers,--where they could work a bit, just as much as they were able
+to, but they'd be sure of a home and wouldn't have any anxiety.  I
+don't know if it could be made self--self--you know--earning its own
+living----"
+
+"Self-supporting," assisted her father.
+
+"Yes, self-supporting," said Norah gratefully.  "Perhaps it could.
+But they'd all have their pensions to help them."
+
+"Yes, and it could be put under a partly-disabled officer with a wife
+and kids that he couldn't support--some poor beggar feeling like
+committing suicide because he couldn't tell where little Johnny's next
+pair of boots was coming from!" added Jim.  "That's the most ripping
+idea, Norah!  What do you think, Dad?"
+
+"Yes--excellent," said Mr. Linton.  "The details would want a lot of
+working-out, of course: but there will be plenty of time for that.  I
+would like to make it as nearly self-supporting as possible, so that
+there would be no idea of charity about it."
+
+"A kind of colony," said Wally.
+
+"Yes.  It ought to be workable.  The land is good, and with
+poultry-farming, and gardening, and intensive culture, it should pay
+well enough.  We'll get all sorts of expert advice, Norah, and plan
+the thing thoroughly."
+
+"And we'll call it 'The O'Neill Colony,' or something like that," said
+Norah, her eyes shining.  "I'd like it to carry on Sir John's name,
+wouldn't you, Dad?"
+
+"Indeed, yes," said David Linton.  "It has some sort of quiet,
+inoffensive name already, by the way--yes, Homewood."
+
+"Well, that sounds nice and restful," said Jim.  "Sort of name you'd
+like to think of in the trenches.  When do we go to see it, Dad?"
+
+"The lawyers have written to ask the tenants what day will suit them,"
+said his father.  "They're an old Indian Army officer and his wife, I
+believe; General Somers.  I don't suppose they will raise any
+objection to our seeing the house.  By the way, there is another
+important thing: there's a motor and some vehicles and horses, and a
+few cows, that go with the place.  O'Neill used to like to have it
+ready to go to at any time, no matter how unexpectedly.  It was only
+when War work claimed him that he let it to these people.  He was
+unusually well-off for an Irish landowner; it seems that his father
+made a heap of money on the Stock Exchange."
+
+"Horses!" said Norah blissfully.
+
+"And a motor."
+
+"That will be handy for bringing the Tired People from the station,"
+said she.  "Horses that one could ride, I wonder, Daddy?"
+
+"I shouldn't be surprised," said her father, laughing.  "Anyhow, I
+daresay you will ride them."
+
+"I'll try," said Norah modestly.  "It sounds too good to be true.  Can
+I run the fowls, Daddy?  I'd like that job."
+
+"Yes, you can be poultry-expert," said Mr. Linton.  "As for me, I
+shall control the pigs."
+
+"You won't be allowed to," said Wally.  "You'll find a cold, proud
+steward, or bailiff, or head-keeper or something, who would die of
+apoplexy if either of you did anything so lowering.  You may be
+allowed to ride, Norah, but it won't be an Australian scurry--you'll
+have to be awfully prim and proper, and have a groom trotting behind
+you.  With a top-hat."  He beamed upon her cheerfully.
+
+"Me!" said Norah, aghast.  "Wally, don't talk of such horrible things.
+It's rubbish, isn't it, Dad?"
+
+"Grooms and top-hats don't seem to be included in the catalogue," said
+Mr. Linton, studying it.
+
+"Bless you, that's not necessary," said Jim.  "I mean, you needn't get
+too bucked because they're not.  Public opinion will force you to get
+them.  Probably Nor will have to ride in a top-hat, too."
+
+"Never!" said Norah firmly.  "Unless you promise to do it too, Jimmy."
+
+"My King and Country have called me," said Jim, with unction.
+"Therefore I shall accompany you in uniform--and watch you trying to
+keep the top-hat on.  It will be ever so cheery."
+
+"You won't," said Norah.  "You'll be in the mud in Flanders----" and
+then broke off, and changed the subject laboriously.  There were few
+subjects that did not furnish more or less fun to the Linton family;
+but Norah never could manage to joke successfully about even the
+Flanders mud, which appeared to be a matter for humorous recollection
+to Jim and Wally.  Whenever the thought of their return to that dim
+and terrible region that had swallowed up so many crossed her vision,
+something caught at her heart and made her breath come unevenly.  She
+knew they must go: she would not have had it otherwise, even had it
+been certain that they would never come back to her.  But that they
+should not--so alive, so splendid in their laughing strength--the
+agony of the thought haunted her dreams, no matter how she strove to
+put it from her by day.
+
+Jim saw the shadow in her eyes and came to her rescue.  There was
+never a moment when Jim and Norah failed to understand each other.
+
+"You'll want a good deal of organization about that place, Dad," he
+said.  "I suppose you'll try to grow things--vegetables and crops?"
+
+"I've been trying to look ahead," said Mr. Linton.  "This is only the
+second year of the War, and I've never thought it would be a short
+business.  It doesn't seem to me that England realizes war at all, so
+far; everything goes on just the same--not only 'business as usual,'
+but other things too: pleasure, luxuries, eating, clothes; everything
+as usual.  I reckon that conscription is bound to come, and before the
+Hun gets put in his place nearly every able-bodied man in these
+islands will be forced to help in the job."
+
+"I think you're about right," Jim said.
+
+"Well, then, other things will happen when the men go.  Food will get
+scarcer--the enemy will sink more and more ships; everything that the
+shops and the farmers sell will get dearer and dearer, and many things
+will cease to exist altogether.  You'll find that coal will run short;
+and live stock will get scarce because people won't be able to get
+imported food stuffs that they depend on now.  Oh, it's my idea that
+there are tight times coming for the people of England.  And that, of
+course, means a good deal of anxiety in planning a Home for Tired
+People.  Tired People must be well fed and kept warm."
+
+"Can't we do it, Daddy?" queried Norah, distressed.
+
+"We're going to try, my girl.  But I'm looking ahead.  One farm comes
+in with the house, you know.  I think we had better get a man to run
+that with us on the shares system, and we'll grow every bit of food
+for the house that we can.  We'll have plenty of good cows, plenty of
+fowls, vegetables, fruit; we'll grow potatoes wherever we can put them
+in, and we'll make thorough provision for storing food that will
+keep."
+
+"Eggs--in water glass," said Norah.  "And I'll make tons of jam and
+bottle tons of fruit and vegetables."
+
+"Yes.  We'll find out how to preserve lots of things that we know
+nothing about now.  I don't in the least imagine that if real shortage
+came private people would be allowed to store food; but a house run
+for a war purpose might be different.  Anyhow, there's no shortage
+yet, so there's no harm in beginning as soon as we can.  Of course we
+can't do very much before we grow things--and that won't be until next
+year."
+
+"There's marmalade," said Norah wisely.  "And apple jam--and we'll dry
+apples.  And if the hens are good there may be eggs to save."
+
+"Hens get discouraged in an English winter, and I'm sure I don't blame
+them," said Jim, laughing.  "Never mind, Nor, they'll buck up in the
+spring."
+
+"Then there's the question of labour," said Mr. Linton.  "I'm inclined
+to employ only men who wouldn't be conscripted: partially-disabled
+soldiers or sailors who could still work, or men with other physical
+drawbacks.  Lots of men whose hearts are too weak to go 'over the top'
+from the trenches could drive a plough quite well.  Then, if
+conscription does come, we shall be safe."
+
+"I'll like to do it, too," said Norah.  "It would be jolly to help
+them."
+
+"Of course, it will cut both ways," Mr. Linton said.  "There should be
+no difficulty in getting men of the kind--poor lads, there are plenty
+of disabled ones.  I'm inclined to think that the question of women
+servants will be more difficult."
+
+"Well, I can cook a bit," said Norah--"thanks to Brownie."
+
+"My dear child," said her father, slightly irritated--"you've no idea
+of what a fairly big English house means, apart from housekeeping and
+managing.  We shall need a really good housekeeper as well as a cook;
+and goodness knows how many maids under her.  You see the thing has
+got to be done very thoroughly.  If it were just you and the boys and
+me you'd cook our eggs and bacon and keep us quite comfortable.  But
+it will be quite another matter when we fill up all those rooms with
+Tired People."
+
+"I suppose so," said Norah meekly.  "But I can be useful, Daddy."
+
+He patted her shoulder.
+
+"Of course you can, mate.  I'm only afraid you'll have too much to do.
+I must say I wish Brownie were here instead of in Australia."
+
+"Dear old Brownie, wouldn't she love it all!" said Norah, her eyes
+tender at the thought of the old woman who had been nurse and mother,
+and mainspring of the Billabong house, since Norah's own mother had
+laid her baby in her kind arms and closed tired eyes so many years
+ago.  "Wouldn't she love fixing the house!  And how she'd hate cooking
+with coal instead of wood!  Only nothing would make Brownie
+bad-tempered."
+
+"Not even Wal and I," said Jim.  "And I'll bet we were trying enough
+to damage a saint's patience.  However, as we can't have Brownie, I
+suppose you'll advertise for some one else, Dad?"
+
+"Oh, I suppose so--but sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof,"
+returned Mr. Linton.  "I've thought of nothing but this inheritance of
+Norah's all day, and I'm arriving at the conclusion that it's going to
+be an inheritance of something very like hard work!"
+
+"Well, that's all right, 'cause there shouldn't be any loafers in
+war-time," Norah said.  She looked out of the window.  "The rain is
+stopping; come along, everybody, and we'll go down Regent Street on a
+'bus."  To do which Norah always maintained was the finest thing in
+London.
+
+They went down to see Norah's inheritance two days later.  A quick
+train from London dropped them at a tiny station, where the
+stationmaster, a grizzled man apparently given over to the care of
+nasturtiums, directed them to Homewood.  A walk of a mile along a wide
+white road brought them to big iron gates, standing open, beside a
+tiny lodge with diamond-paned windows set in lattice-work, under
+overhanging eaves; and all smothered with ivy out of which sparrows
+fluttered busily.  The lodgekeeper, a neat woman, looked at the party
+curiously: no doubt the news of their coming had spread.
+
+From the lodge the drive to the house wound through the park--a wide
+stretch of green, with noble trees, oak, beech and elm; not towering
+like Norah's native gum-trees, but flinging wide arms as though to
+embrace as much as possible of the beauty of the landscape.  Bracken,
+beginning to turn gold, fringed the edge of the gravelled track.  A
+few sheep and cows were to be seen, across the grass.
+
+"Nice-looking sheep," said Mr. Linton.
+
+"Yes, but you wouldn't call it over-stocked," was Jim's comment.  Jim
+was not used to English parks.  He was apt to think of any grass as
+"feed," in terms of so many head per acre.
+
+
+The drive, well-gravelled and smoothly rolled, took them on,
+sauntering slowly, until it turned in a great sweep round a lawn,
+ending under a stone porch flung out from the front of the house.  A
+wide porch, almost a verandah; to the delighted eyes of the
+Australians, who considered verandah-less houses a curious English
+custom, verging on lunacy.  Near the house it was shut in with glass,
+and furnished with a few lounge chairs and a table or two.
+
+"That's a jolly place!" Jim said quickly.
+
+The house itself was long and rambling, and covered with ivy.  There
+were big windows--it seemed planned to catch all the sunlight that
+could possibly be tempted into it.  The lawn ended in a terrace with a
+stone balustrade, where one could sit and look across the park and to
+woods beyond it--now turning a little yellow in the sunlight, and soon
+to glow with orange and flame-colour and bronze, when the early frosts
+should have painted the dying leaves.  From the lawn, to right and
+left, ran shrubberies and flower-beds, with winding grass walks.
+
+"Why, it's lovely!" Norah breathed.  She slipped a hand into her
+father's arm.
+
+Jim rang the bell.  A severe butler appeared, and explained that
+General and Mrs. Somers had gone out for the day, and had begged that
+Mr. Linton and his party would make themselves at home and explore the
+house and grounds thoroughly: an arrangement which considerably
+relieved the minds of the Australians, who had rather dreaded the
+prospect of "poking about" the house under the eyes of its tenants.
+The butler stiffened respectfully at the sight of the boys' uniforms.
+It appeared presently that he had been a mess-sergeant in days gone
+by, and now regarded himself as the personal property of the General.
+
+"Very sorry they are to leave the 'ouse, too, sir," said the butler.
+"A nice place, but too big for them."
+
+"Haven't they any children?" Norah asked.
+
+"Only the Captain, miss, and he's in Mesopotamia, which is an 'orrible
+'ole for any gentleman to be stuck in," said the butler with a fine
+contempt for Mesopotamia and all its works.  "And the mistress is
+tired of 'ousekeeping, so they're going to live in one of them there
+family 'otels, as they call them."  The butler sighed, and then, as if
+conscious of having lapsed from correct behaviour, stiffened to
+rigidity and became merely butler once more.  "Will you see the 'ouse
+now, sir?"
+
+They entered a wide hall in which was a fireplace that drew an
+exclamation from Norah, since she had not seen so large a one since
+she left Billabong.  This was built to take logs four feet long, to
+hold which massive iron dogs stood in readiness.  Big leather
+armchairs and couches and tables strewn with magazines and papers,
+together with a faint fragrance of tobacco in the air, gave to the
+hall a comforting sense of use.  The drawing-room, on the other hand,
+was chillingly splendid and formal, and looked as though no one had
+ever sat in the brocaded chairs: and the great dining room was almost
+as forbidding.  The butler intimated that the General and his wife
+preferred the morning-room, which proved to be a cheery place, facing
+south and west, with a great window-recess filled with flowering
+plants.
+
+"This is jolly," Jim said.  "But so would the other rooms be, if they
+weren't so awfully empty.  They only want people in them."
+
+"Tired people," Norah said.
+
+"Yes," Wally put in.  "I'm blessed if I think they would stay tired
+for long, here."
+
+There was a long billiard-room, with a ghostly table shrouded in
+dust-sheets; and upstairs, a range of bedrooms of all shapes and
+sizes, but all bright and cheerful, and looking out upon different
+aspects of park and woodland.  Nothing was out of order; everything
+was plain, but care and taste were evident in each detail.  Then, down
+a back staircase, they penetrated to outer regions where the corner of
+Norah's soul that Brownie had made housewifely rejoiced over a big,
+bright kitchen with pantries and larders and sculleries of the most
+modern type.  The cook, who looked severe, was reading the _Daily
+Mail_ in the servants' hall; here and there they had glimpses of smart
+maids, irreproachably clad, who seemed of a race apart from either the
+cheery, friendly housemaids of Donegal, or Sarah and Mary of
+Billabong, who disliked caps, but had not the slightest objection to
+helping to put out a bush-fire or break in a young colt.  Norah tried
+to picture the Homewood maids at either task, and failed signally.
+
+From the house they wandered out to visit well-appointed stables with
+room for a dozen horses, and a garage where a big touring car
+stood--Norah found herself quite unable to realize that it belonged to
+her!  But in the stables were living things that came and nuzzled
+softly in her hand with inquiring noses that were evidently accustomed
+to gifts of sugar and apples, and Norah felt suddenly, for the first
+time, at home.  There were two good cobs, and a hunter with a
+beautiful lean head and splendid shoulders; a Welsh pony designed for
+a roomy tub-cart in the coach house; and a good old stager able for
+anything from carrying a nervous rider to drawing a light plough.  The
+cobs, the groom explained, were equally good in saddle or harness; and
+there was another pony, temporarily on a visit to a vet., which Sir
+John had liked to ride.  "But of course Killaloe was Sir John's
+favourite," he added, stroking the hunter's soft brown muzzle.  "There
+wasn't no one could show them two the way in a big run."
+
+They tore themselves with difficulty from the stables, and, still
+guided by the butler, who seemed to think he must not let them out of
+his sight, wandered through the grounds.  Thatched cottage, orchard,
+and walled garden, rosery, with a pergola still covered with late
+blooms, lawns and shrubberies.  There was nothing very grand, but all
+was exquisitely kept; and a kind of still peace brooded over the
+beauty of the whole, and made War and its shadows seem very far away.
+The farms, well-tilled and prosperous-looking, were at the western
+side of the park: Mr. Linton and Jim talked with the tenant whose
+lease was expiring while Norah and Wally sat on an old oak log and
+chatted to the butler, who told them tales of India, and asked
+questions about Australia, being quite unable to realize any
+difference between the natives of the two countries.  "All niggers, I
+calls them," said the butler loftily.
+
+"That seems a decent fellow," said Mr. Linton, as they walked back
+across the park.  "Hawkins, the tenant-farmer, I mean.  Has he made a
+success of his place, do you know?"
+
+"'Awkins 'as an excellent name, sir," replied the butler.  "A good,
+steady man, and a rare farmer.  The General thinks 'ighly of 'im.
+'E's sorry enough that 'is lease is up, 'Awkins is."
+
+"I think of renewing it, under slightly different conditions," Mr.
+Linton observed.  "I don't wish to turn the man out, if he will grow
+what I want."
+
+"Well, that's good news," said the butler heartily.  "I'm sure 'Awkins'll
+do anything you may ask 'im to, sir."  A sudden dull flush came
+into his cheeks, and he looked for a moment half-eagerly at Mr.
+Linton, as if about to speak.  He checked himself, however, and they
+returned to the house, where, by the General's orders, coffee and
+sandwiches awaited the visitors in the morning-room.  The butler
+flitted about them, seeing to their comfort unobtrusively.
+
+"If I may make so bold as to ask, sir," he said presently, "you'll be
+coming to live here shortly?"
+
+"As soon as General Somers leaves," Mr. Linton answered.
+
+The man dropped his voice, standing rigidly to attention.
+
+"I suppose, sir," he said wistfully, "you would not be needing a
+butler?"
+
+"A butler--why.  I hadn't thought of such a thing," said Mr. Linton,
+laughing.  "There are not very many of you in Australia, you know."
+
+"But indeed, sir, you'll need one, in a place like this," said the
+ex-sergeant, growing bold.  "Every one 'as them--and if you would be
+so kind as to consider if I'd do, sir?  I know the place, and the
+General 'ud give me a good record.  I've been under him these fifteen
+years, but he doesn't need me after he leaves here."
+
+"Well----" said Mr. Linton thoughtfully.  "But we shan't be a small
+family--we mean to fill this place up with officers needing rest.
+We're coming here to work, not to play."
+
+"Officers!" said the ex-sergeant joyfully.  "But where'd you get any
+one to 'elp you better, sir?  Lookin' after officers 'as been my job
+this many a year.  And I'd serve you faithful, sir."
+
+Norah slipped her hand into her father's arm.
+
+"We really would need him, I believe, Daddy," she whispered.
+
+"You would, indeed, miss," said the butler gratefully.  "I could valet
+the young gentlemen, and if there's any special attention needed, I
+could give it.  I'd do my very utmost, miss.  I'm old to go out
+looking for a new place at my time of life.  And if you've once been
+in the Army, you like to stay as near it as you can."
+
+"Well, we'll see," Mr. Linton said guardedly.  "I'll probably write to
+General Somers about you."  At which the butler, forgetting his
+butlerhood, came smartly to attention--and then became covered with
+confusion and concealed himself as well as he could behind a
+coffee-pot.
+
+"You might do much worse," Jim remarked, on their way to the station.
+"He looks a smart man--and though this place is glorious, it's going
+to take a bit of running.  Keep him for a bit, at any rate, Dad."
+
+"I think it might be as well," Mr. Linton answered.  He turned at a
+bend in the drive, to look back at Homewood, standing calm and
+peaceful in its clustering trees.  "Well, Norah, what do you think of
+your property?"
+
+"I'm quite unable to believe it's mine," said Norah, laughing.  "But I
+suppose that will come in time.  However, there's one thing quite
+certain, Dad--you and I will have to get very busy!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+OF LONDON AND OTHER MATTERS
+
+
+Jim and Wally dropped lightly from the footboard of a swift
+motor-'bus, dodged through the traffic, and swung quickly down a quiet
+side-street.  They stopped before a stone house, where, from a window
+above, Norah watched their eager faces as Jim fitted his latchkey and
+opened the door.  She turned back into the room with a little sigh.
+
+"There they are, Dad.  And they're passed fit--I know."
+
+David Linton looked up from the elbow-splint he was making.
+
+"Well, it had to come, mate," he said.
+
+"Yes, I know.  But I hoped it wouldn't!" said poor Norah
+inconsistently.
+
+"You wouldn't like them not to go," said her father.  And then cheery
+footsteps clattered up the stairs, and the boys burst in.
+
+"Passed!" shouted Jim.  "Fit as fiddles!"
+
+"When?" Norah asked.
+
+"This day week.  So we'll have nice time to settle you into Homewood
+and try those horses, won't we?"
+
+"Yes, rather!" said Norah.  "Were they quite satisfied with your arm,
+Wally?"
+
+"Yes, they say it's a lovely arm," said that gentleman modestly.  "I
+always knew it, but it's nice to have other people agreeing with me!
+And they say our lungs are beautiful too; not a trace of gas left.
+And--oh, you tell them, Jim!"
+
+"And we're not to go out yet," said Jim, grinning widely.  "Special
+Lewis-gun course at Aldershot first, and after that a bombing course.
+So there you are."  He broke off, his utterance hindered by the fact
+that Norah had suddenly hugged him very hard, while David Linton,
+jumping up, caught Wally's hand.
+
+"Not the Front, my dear boys!"
+
+"Well, not yet," said Wally, pumping the hand, and finding Norah's
+searching for his free one.  "It's pretty decent, isn't it? because
+every one knows there will be plenty of war at the Front yet."
+
+"Plenty indeed," said Mr. Linton.
+
+"I say, buck up, old chap," said Jim, patting Norah's shoulder very
+hard.  "One would think we were booked for the trenches to-night!"
+
+"I wouldn't have made an ass of myself if you had been," said Norah,
+shaking back her curls and mopping her eyes defiantly.  "I was
+prepared for that, and then you struck me all of a heap!  Oh, Jimmy, I
+am glad!  I'd like to hug the War Office!"
+
+"You're the first person I ever heard with such sentiments," returned
+her brother.  "Most people want to heave bombs at it.  However,
+they've treated us decently, and no mistake.  You see, ever since June
+we've kept bothering them to go out, and then getting throat-trouble
+and having to cave in again; and now that we really are all right I
+suppose they think they'll make sure of us.  So that's that."
+
+"I would have been awfully wild if they hadn't passed us," Wally said.
+"But since they have, and they'll put us to work, I don't weep a bit
+at being kept back for awhile.  Lots of chaps seem to think being at
+the Front is heavenly, but I'm blessed if I can see it that way.  We
+didn't have very much time there, certainly, but there were only three
+ingredients in what we did have--mud, barbed wire, and gas."
+
+"Yes, and it's not much of a mixture," said Jim.  "All the same, it's
+got to be taken if necessary.  Still, I'm not sorry it's postponed for
+a bit; there will be heaps of war yet, and meanwhile we're just
+learning the trade."  He straightened his great shoulders.  "I never
+felt so horribly young and ignorant as when I found grown-up men in
+my charge in France."
+
+"Poor old Jimmy always did take his responsibilities heavily," said
+Wally, laughing.
+
+Mr. Linton looked at his big son, remembering a certain letter from
+his commanding officer which had caused him and Norah to glow with
+pride; remembering, also, how the men on Billabong Station had worked
+under "Master Jim."  But he knew that soldiering had always been a
+serious business to his boy.  Personal danger had never entered into
+Jim's mind; but the danger of ignorant handling of his men had been a
+tremendous thing to him.  Even without "mud, barbed-wire, and gas" Jim
+was never likely to enjoy war in the light-hearted way in which Wally
+would certainly take it under more pleasant conditions.
+
+"Well--we've a week then, boys," he said cheerfully, "and no anxieties
+immediately before us except the new cook-ladies."
+
+"Well, goodness knows they are enough," Norah said fervently.
+
+"Anything more settled?" Jim asked.
+
+"I have an ecstatic letter from Allenby."  Allenby was the
+ex-sergeant.  "He seems in a condition of trembling joy at the
+prospect of being our butler; and, what is more to the point, he says
+he has a niece whom he can recommend as a housemaid.  So I have told
+him to instal her before we get to Homewood on Thursday.  Hawkins has
+written a three-volume list of things he will require for the farm,
+but I haven't had time to study it yet.  And Norah has had letters
+from nineteen registry-offices, all asking for a deposit!"
+
+The boys roared.
+
+"That makes seventy-one, doesn't it, Nor?" Wally asked.
+
+"Something like it," Norah admitted ruefully.  "And the beauty of it
+is, not one of them will guarantee so much as a kitchenmaid.  They say
+sadly that 'in the present crisis' it's difficult to supply servants.
+They don't seem to think there's any difficulty about paying them
+deposit-fees."
+
+"That phrase, 'in the present crisis,' is the backbone of business
+to-day," Mr. Linton said.  "If a shop can't sell you anything, or if
+they mislay your property, or sell your purchase to some one else, or
+keep your repairs six months and then lose them, or send in your
+account with a lot of items you never ordered or received, they simply
+wave 'the present crisis' at you, and all is well."
+
+"Yes, but they don't regard it as any excuse if you pay too little, or
+don't pay at all," Jim said.
+
+"Of course not--that wouldn't be business, my son," said Wally,
+laughing.  "The one department the Crisis doesn't hit is the one that
+sends out bills."  He turned to Norah.  "What about the cook-lady,
+Nor?"
+
+"She's safe," said Norah, sighing with relief.  "There's an awfully
+elegant letter from her, saying she'll come."
+
+"Oh, that's good business!" Jim said.  For a fortnight Norah had had
+the unforgettable experience of sitting in registry-offices,
+attempting to engage a staff for Homewood.  She had always been
+escorted by one or more of her male belongings, and their extreme
+ignorance of how to conduct the business had been plain to the meanest
+intelligence.  The ex-sergeant, whose spirit of meekness in proposing
+himself had been in extraordinary contrast to the condescending
+truculence of other candidates, had been thankfully retained.  There
+had at times seemed a danger that instead of butler he might awake to
+find himself maid-of-all-work, since not one of the applicants came up
+to even Norah's limited standard.  Finally, however, Mr. Linton had
+refused to enter any more registry-offices or to let Norah enter them,
+describing them, in good set terms as abominable holes; and judicious
+advertising had secured them a housekeeper who seemed promising, and a
+cook who insisted far more on the fact that she was a lady than on any
+ability to prepare meals.  The family, while not enthusiastic, was
+hopeful.
+
+"I hope she's all right," Norah said doubtfully.  "I suppose we can't
+expect much--they all tell you that nearly every servant in England
+has 'gone into munitions,' which always sounds as though she'd get
+fired out of a trench-mortar presently."
+
+"Some of those we saw might be benefited by the process," said Mr.
+Linton, shuddering at memories of registry-offices.
+
+"Well, what about the rest?--haven't you got to get a kitchenmaid and
+some more housemaids or things?" queried Jim vaguely.
+
+"I'm not going to try here," said Mr. Linton firmly.  "Life is too
+short; I'd sooner be my own kitchenmaid than let Norah into one of
+those offices again.  Allenby's niece will have to double a few parts
+at first, and I've written to Ireland--to Mrs. Moroney--to see if she
+can find us two or three nice country girls.  I believe she'll be able
+to do it.  Meanwhile we'll throw care to the winds.  I've told Allenby
+to order in all necessary stores, so that we can be sure of getting
+something to eat when we go down; beyond that, I decline to worry, or
+let Norah worry, about anything."
+
+"Then let's go out and play," cried Norah, jumping up.
+
+"Right!" said the boys.  "Where?"
+
+"Oh, anywhere--we'll settle as we go!" said Norah airily.  She fled
+for her hat and coat.
+
+So they went to the Tower of London--a place little known to the
+English, but of which Australians never tire--and spent a blissful
+afternoon in the Armoury, examining every variety of weapons and
+armament, from Crusaders' chain-mail to twentieth-century rifles.
+There is no place so full of old stories and of history--history that
+suddenly becomes quite a different matter from something you learn by
+the half-page out of an extremely dull book at school.  This is
+history alive, and the dim old Tower becomes peopled with gay and
+gallant figures clad in shining armour, bent on knightly adventures.
+There you see mail shirts of woven links that slip like silken mesh
+through the fingers, yet could withstand the deadliest thrust of a
+dagger; maces with spiked heads, that only a mighty man could swing;
+swords such as that with which Coeur-de-Lion could slice through such
+a mace as though it were no more than a carrot--sinuous blades that
+Saladin loved, that would sever a down cushion flung in the air.
+Daggers and poignards, too, of every age, needle-pointed yet viciously
+strong, with exquisitely inlaid hilts and fine-lined blades; long
+rapiers that brought visions of gallants with curls and lace stocks
+and silken hose, as ready to fight as to dance or to make a poem to a
+fair lady's eyebrow.  Helmets of every age, with visors behind which
+the knights of old had looked grimly as they charged down the lists at
+"gentle and joyous passages of arms."  Horse-armour of amazing
+weight--"I always pictured those old knights prancing out on a
+thirteen-stone hack, but you'd want a Suffolk Punch to carry that
+ironmongery!" said Wally.  So through room after room, each full of
+brave ghosts of the past, looking benevolently at the tall
+boy-soldiers from the New World; until at length came closing-time,
+and they went out reluctantly, across the flagged yard where poor
+young Anne Boleyn laid her gentle head on the block; where the ravens
+hop and caw to-day as their ancestors did in the sixteenth century
+when she walked across from her grim prison that still bears on its
+wall a scrawled "Anne."  A dull little prison-room, it must have been,
+after the glitter and pomp of castles and palaces--with only the
+rugged walls of the Tower Yard to look upon from the tiny window.
+
+"And she must have had such a jolly good time at first," said Wally.
+"Old Henry VIII was very keen on her, wasn't he?  And then she was
+only his second wife--by the time he'd had six they must have begun to
+feel themselves rather two-a-penny!"
+
+They found a 'bus that took them by devious ways through the City; the
+part of London that many Londoners never see, since it is another
+world from the world of Bond Street and Oxford Street, with their
+newness and their glittering shops.  But to the queer folk who come
+from overseas, it is the real London, and they wander in its narrow
+streets and link fingers with the past.  Old names look down from the
+smoke-grimed walls: Black Friars and White Friars, Bread Street, St.
+Martin's Lane, Leadenhall Street, Temple Bar: the hurrying crowd of
+to-day fades, and instead come ghosts of armed men and of
+leather-jerkined 'prentices, less ready to work than to fight; of
+gallants with ruffs, and fierce sailor-men of the days of Queen Bess,
+home from the Spanish Main with ships laden with gold, swaggering up
+from the Docks to spend their prize-money as quickly as they earned
+it.  Visions of dark nights, with link-boys running beside
+chair-bearers, carrying exquisite ladies to routs and masques: of
+foot-pads, slinking into dark alleys and doorways as the watch comes
+tramping down the street.  Visions of the press-gang, hunting stout
+lads, into every tavern, whisking them from their hiding-places and
+off to the ships: to disappear with never a word of farewell until,
+years later, bronzed and tarred and strange of speech, they returned
+to astounded families who had long mourned them as dead.  Visions of
+Queen Bess, with her haughty face and her red hair, riding through the
+City that adored her, her white palfrey stepping daintily through the
+cheering crowd: and great gentlemen beside her--Raleigh, Essex,
+Howard.  They all wander together through the grey streets where the
+centuries-old buildings tower overhead: all blending together, a
+formless jumble of the Past, and yet very much alive: and it does not
+seem to matter in the least that you look down upon them from a
+rattling motor-'bus that leaves pools of oil where perchance lay the
+puddle over which Raleigh flung his cloak lest his queen's slipper
+should be soiled.  Very soon we shall look down on the City from
+airships while conductors come and stamp our tickets with a
+bell-punch: but the old City will be unchanged, and it will be only we
+who look upon it who will pass like shadows from its face.
+
+The Australians left their 'bus in Fleet Street, and dived down a
+narrow lane to a low doorway with the sign of the _Cheshire
+Cheese_--the old inn with sanded floor and bare oak benches and
+tables, where Dr. Johnson and his followers used to meet, to dine and
+afterwards to smoke long churchwarden pipes and talk, as Wally said,
+"such amazing fine language that it made you feel a little
+light-headed."  It is to be feared that the Australians had not any
+great enthusiasm for Dr. Johnson.  They had paid a visit of inspection
+to the room upstairs where the great man used to take his ease, but
+not one of them had felt any desire to sit in his big armchair.
+
+"You don't understand what a chance you're scorning," Mr. Linton had
+said, laughing, as his family turned from the seat of honour.  "Why,
+good Americans die happy if they can only say they have sat in Dr.
+Johnson's chair!"
+
+"_I_ think he was an ill-mannered old man!" quoth Norah, with her nose
+tilted.  Which seemed to end the matter, so far as they were
+concerned.
+
+But if the Billabong family took no interest in Dr. Johnson, they had
+a deep affection for the old inn itself.  They loved its dim rooms
+with their blackened oak, and it was a never-ending delight to watch
+the medley of people who came there for meals: actors, artists,
+literary folk, famous and otherwise; Americans, foreigners, Colonials;
+politicians, fighting men of both Services, busy City men: for
+everybody comes, sooner or later, to the old _Cheshire Cheese_.  Being
+people of plain tastes they liked the solid, honest meals--especially
+since increasing War-prices were already inducing hotels and
+restaurants everywhere to disguise a tablespoonful of hashed oddments
+under an elegant French name and sell it for as much money as a dinner
+for a hungry man.  Norah used to fight shy of the famous
+"lark-pudding" until it was whispered to her that what was not good
+beef steaks in the dish was nothing more than pigeon or possibly even
+sparrow! after which she enjoyed it, and afterwards pilgrimaged to the
+kitchen to see the great blue bowls, as big as a wash-hand basin, in
+which the puddings have been made since Dr. Johnson's time, and the
+great copper in which they are boiled all night.  Legend says that any
+one who can eat three helpings of lark-pudding is presented with all
+that remains: but no one has ever heard of a hero able to manage his
+third plateful!
+
+Best of all the Billabong folk loved the great cellars under the inn,
+which were once the cloisters of an old monastery: where there are
+unexpected steps, and dim archways, and winding paths where it is very
+easy to imagine that you see bare-footed friars with brown habits and
+rope girdles pacing slowly along.  There they bought quaint brown jars
+and mustard-pots of the kind that are used, and have always been used,
+on the tables above.  But best of all were the great oaken beams above
+them, solid as England itself, but blackened and charred by the Great
+Fire of 1666.  Norah used to touch the burned surface gently,
+wondering if it was not a dream--if the hand on the broken charcoal
+were really her own, more used to Bosun's bridle on the wide plains of
+Billabong!
+
+There were not many people in the room as they came in this evening,
+for it was early; dinner, indeed, was scarcely ready, and a few
+customers sat about, reading evening papers and discussing the war
+news.  In one corner were an officer and a lady; and at sight of the
+former Jim and Wally saluted and broke into joyful smiles.  The
+officer jumped up and greeted them warmly.
+
+"Hullo, boys!" he said.  "I'm delighted to see you.  Fit again?--you
+look it!"
+
+"Dad, this is Major Hunt," Jim said, dragging his father forward.
+"You remember, of our regiment.  And my sister, sir.  I say, I'm
+awfully glad to see you!"
+
+"Come and meet my wife," said Major Hunt.  "Stella, here are the two
+young Australians that used to make my life a burden!"
+
+Everybody shook hands indiscriminately, and presently they joined
+forces round a big table, while Jim and Wally poured out questions
+concerning the regiment and every one in it.
+
+"Most of them are going strong," Major Hunt said--"we have a good few
+casualties, of course, but we haven't lost many officers--most of them
+have come back.  I think all your immediate chums are still in France.
+But I've been out of it myself for two months--stopped a bit shrapnel
+with my hand, and it won't get better."  He indicated a bandaged left
+hand as he spoke, and they realized that his face was worn, and deeply
+lined with pain.  "It's stupid," he said, and laughed.  "But when are
+you coming back?  We've plenty of work for you."
+
+They told him, eagerly.
+
+"Well, you might just as well learn all you can before you go out,"
+Major Hunt said.  "The war's not going to finish this winter, or the
+next.  Indeed, I wouldn't swear that my six-year-old son, who is
+drilling hard, won't have time to be in at the finish!"  At which Mrs.
+Hunt shuddered and said, "Don't be so horrible, Douglas!"  She was a
+slight, pretty woman, cheery and pleasant, and she made them all laugh
+by her stories of work in a canteen.
+
+"All the soldiers used to look upon us as just part of the furniture,"
+she said.  "They used to rush in, in a break between parades, and give
+their orders in a terrible hurry.  As for saying "Please--well----"
+
+"You ought to have straightened them up," said Major Hunt, with a
+good-tempered growl.
+
+"Ah, poor boys, they hadn't time!  The Irish regiments were better,
+but then it isn't any trouble for an Irishman to be polite; it comes
+to him naturally.  But those stolid English country lads can't say
+things easily."  She laughed.  "I remember a young lance-corporal who
+used often to come to our house to see my maid.  He was terribly shy,
+and if I chanced to go into the kitchen he always bolted like a rabbit
+into the scullery.  The really terrible thing was that sometimes I had
+to go on to the scullery myself, and run him to earth among the
+saucepans, when he would positively shake with terror.  I used to
+wonder how he ever summoned up courage to speak to Susan, let alone to
+face the foe when he went to France!"
+
+"That's the sort that gets the V.C. without thinking about it," said
+Major Hunt, laughing.
+
+"I was very busy in the Canteen one morning--it was a cold, wet day,
+and the men rushed us for hot drinks whenever they had a moment.
+Presently a warrior dashed up to the counter, banged down his penny
+and said 'Coffee!' in a voice of thunder.  I looked up and caught his
+eye as I was turning to run for the coffee--and it was my
+lance-corporal!"
+
+"What did you do?"
+
+"We just gibbered at each other across the counter for a moment, I
+believe--and I never saw a face so horror-stricken!  Then he turned
+and fled, leaving his penny behind him.  Poor boy--I gave it to Susan
+to return to him."
+
+"Didn't you ever make friends with any of them, Mrs. Hunt?" Norah
+asked.
+
+"Oh yes! when we had time, or when they had.  But often one was on the
+rush for every minute of our four-hour shifts."
+
+"Jolly good of you," said Jim.
+
+"Good gracious, no!  It was a very poor sort of war-work, but busy
+mothers with only one maid couldn't manage more.  And I loved it,
+especially in Cork: the Irish boys were dears, and so keen.  I had a
+great respect for those boys.  The lads who enlisted in England had
+all their chums doing the same thing, and everybody patted them on the
+back and said how noble they were, and gave them parties and speeches
+and presents.  But the Irish boys enlisted, very often, dead against
+the wishes of their own people, and against their priest--and you've
+got to live in Ireland to know what _that_ means."
+
+"The wonder to me was, always, the number of Irishmen who did enlist,"
+said Major Hunt.  "And aren't they fighters!"
+
+"They must be great," Jim said.  "You should hear our fellows talk
+about the Dublins and the Munsters in Gallipoli."  His face clouded:
+it was a grievous matter to Jim that he had not been with those other
+Australian boys who had already made the name of Anzac ring through
+the world.
+
+"Yes, you must be very proud of your country," Mrs. Hunt said, with
+her charming smile.  "I tell my husband that we must emigrate there
+after the war.  It must be a great place in which to bring up
+children, judging by all the Australians one sees."
+
+"Possibly--but a man with a damaged hand isn't wanted there," Major
+Hunt said curtly.
+
+"Oh, you'll be all right long before we want to go out," was his
+wife's cheerful response.  But there was a shadow in her eyes.
+
+Wally did not notice any shadow.  He had hero-worshipped Major Hunt in
+his first days of soldiering, when that much-enduring officer, a Mons
+veteran with the D.S.O. to his credit, had been chiefly responsible
+for the training of newly-joined subalterns: and Major Hunt, in his
+turn, had liked the two Australian boys, who, whatever their faults of
+carelessness or ignorance, were never anything but keen.  Now, in his
+delight at meeting his senior officer again, Wally chattered away like
+a magpie, asking questions, telling Irish fishing-stories, and other
+stories of adventures in Ireland, hazarding wild opinions about the
+war, and generally manifesting a cheerful disregard of the fact that
+the tired man opposite him was not a subaltern as irresponsible as
+himself.  Somehow, the weariness died out of Major Hunt's eyes.  He
+began to joke in his turn, and to tell queer yarns of the trenches:
+and presently, indeed, the whole party seemed to be infected by the
+same spirit, so that the old walls of the _Cheshire Cheese_ echoed
+laughter that must have been exceedingly discouraging to the ghost of
+Dr. Johnson, if, as is said, that unamiable maker of dictionaries
+haunts his ancient tavern.
+
+"Well, you've made us awfully cheerful," said Major Hunt, when dinner
+was over, and they were dawdling over coffee.  "Stella and I were
+feeling rather down on our luck, I believe, when you appeared, and now
+we've forgotten all about it.  Do you always behave like this, Miss
+Linton?"
+
+"No, I have to be very sedate, or I'd never keep my big family in
+order," said Norah, laughing.  "You've no idea what a responsibility
+they are."
+
+"Haven't I?" said he.  "You forget I have a houseful of my own."
+
+"Tell me about them," Norah asked.  "Do you keep them in order?"
+
+"We say we do, for the sake of discipline, but I'm not too sure about
+it," said Mrs. Hunt.  "As a matter of fact, I am very strict, but
+Douglas undoes all my good work.  Is it really true that he is strict
+in the regiment, Mr. Jim?"
+
+Jim and Wally shuddered.
+
+"I'd find it easier to tell you if he wasn't here," Jim said.  "There
+are awful memories, aren't there, Wal?"
+
+"Rather!" said Wally feelingly.  "Do you remember the day I didn't
+salute on parade?"
+
+"I believe your mangled remains were carried off the barrack-square,"
+said Jim, with a twinkle.  "I expect I should have been one of the
+fatigue-part, only that was the day I was improperly dressed!"
+
+"What, you didn't come on parade in a bath-towel, did you?" his father
+asked.
+
+"No, but I had a shoulder-strap undone--it's nearly as bad, isn't it,
+sir?"  Jim grinned at Major Hunt.
+
+"If I could remember the barrack-square frown, at the moment, I would
+assume it," said that officer, laughing.  "Never mind, I'll deal with
+you both when we all get back."
+
+"You haven't told me about the family," Norah persisted.  "The family
+you are strict with, I mean," she added kindly.
+
+"You have no more respect for a field-officer than your brother has,"
+said he.
+
+"Whisper!" said Mrs. Hunt.  "He was only a subaltern himself before
+the war!"
+
+Her husband eyed her severely.
+
+"You'll get put under arrest if you make statements liable to excite
+indiscipline among the troops!" he said.  "Don't listen to her, Miss
+Linton, and I'll tell you about the family she spoils.  There's
+Geoffrey, who is six, and Alison, who's five--at least I think she's
+five, isn't she, Stella?"
+
+"Much you know of your babies!" said his wife, with a fine scorn.
+"Alison won't be five for two months."
+
+"Hasn't she a passion for detail!" said her husband admiringly.
+"Well, five-ish, Miss Linton.  And finally there's a two-year-old
+named Michael.  And when they all get going together they make rather
+more noise than a regiment.  But they're rather jolly, and I hope
+you'll come and see them."
+
+"Oh, do," said Mrs. Hunt.  "Geoff would just love to hear about
+Australia.  He told me the other day that when he grows up he means to
+go out there and be a kangaroo!"
+
+"I suppose you know you must never check a child's natural ambitions!"
+Mr. Linton told her gravely.
+
+"Was that your plan?" she laughed.
+
+"Oh, my pair hadn't any ambitions beyond sitting on horses perpetually
+and pursuing cattle!" said Mr. Linton.  "That was very useful to me,
+so I certainly didn't check it."
+
+"H'm!" said Jim, regarding him inquiringly.  "I wonder how your theory
+would have lasted, Dad, if I'd grown my hair long and taken to
+painting?"
+
+"That wouldn't have been a natural ambition at all, so I should have
+been able to deal with it with a clear conscience," said his father,
+laughing.  "In any case, the matter could safely have been left to
+Norah--she would have been more than equal to it."
+
+"I trust so," said Norah pleasantly.  "_You_ with long hair, Jimmy!"
+
+"It's amazing--and painful--to see the number of fellows who take long
+hair into khaki with them," said Major Hunt.  "The old Army custom was
+to get your hair cut over the comb for home service and under the comb
+for active service.  Jolly good rule, too.  But the subaltern of the
+New Army goes into the trenches with locks like a musician's.  At
+least, too many of him does."
+
+"Never could understand any one caring for the bother of long hair,"
+said Jim, running his hand over his dark, close-cropped poll.  "I say,
+isn't it time we made a move, if we're going to a show?"  He looked
+half-shyly at Mrs. Hunt.  "Won't you and the Major come with us?  It's
+been so jolly meeting you."
+
+"Good idea!" said Mr. Linton, cutting across Mrs. Hunt's protest.  "Do
+come--I know Norah is longing to be asked to meet the family, and that
+will give you time to fix it up."  He over-ruled any further
+objections by the simple process of ignoring them, whereupon the Hunts
+wisely gave up manufacturing any more: and presently they had
+discovered two taxis, Norah and her father taking Mrs. Hunt in the
+first, leaving the three soldiers to follow in the second.  They slid
+off through the traffic of Fleet Street.
+
+"We really shouldn't let you take possession of us like this," said
+Mrs. Hunt a little helplessly.  "But it has been so lovely to see
+Douglas cheerful again.  He has not laughed so much for months."
+
+"You are anxious about his hand?" David Linton asked.
+
+"Yes, very.  He has had several kinds of treatment for it, but it
+doesn't seem to get better; and the pain is wearing.  The doctors say
+his best chance is a thorough change, as well as treatment, but we
+can't manage it--the three babies are expensive atoms.  Now there is a
+probability of another operation to his hand, and he has been so
+depressed about it, that I dragged him out to dinner in the hope of
+cheering him up.  But I don't think I should have succeeded if we
+hadn't met you."
+
+"It was great luck for us," Norah said.  "The boys have always told us
+so much of Major Hunt.  He was ever so good to them."
+
+"He told me about them, too," said Mrs. Hunt.  "He liked them because
+he said he never succeeded in boring them!"
+
+"Why, you couldn't bore Jim and Wally!" said Norah, laughing.  Then a
+great idea fell upon her, and she grew silent, leaving the
+conversation to her companions as the taxi whirred on its swift way
+through the crowded streets until they drew up before the theatre.
+
+In the vestibule she found her father close to her and endeavoured to
+convey many things to him by squeezing his arm very hard among the
+crowd, succeeding in so much that Mr. Linton knew perfectly well that
+Norah was the victim of a new idea--and was quite content to wait to
+be told what it was.  But there was no chance of that until the
+evening was over, and they had bade farewell to the Hunts, arranging
+to have tea with them next day: after which a taxi bore them to the
+Kensington flat, and they gathered in the sitting-room while Norah
+brewed coffee over a spirit-lamp.
+
+"I'm jolly glad we met the Hunts," Jim said.  "But isn't it cruel luck
+for a man like that to be kept back by a damaged hand!"
+
+"Rough on Mrs. Hunt, too," Wally remarked.  "She looked about as seedy
+as he did."
+
+"Daddy----!" said Norah eagerly.
+
+David Linton laughed.
+
+"Yes, I knew you had one," he said, "Out with it--I'll listen."
+
+"They're Tired People," said Norah: and waited.
+
+"Yes, they're certainly tired enough," said her father.  "But the
+children, Norah?  I don't think we could possibly take in little
+children, considering the other weary inmates."
+
+"No, I thought that too," Norah answered eagerly.  "But don't you
+remember the cottage, Daddy?  Why shouldn't they have it?"
+
+"By Jove!" said Jim.  "That jolly little thatched place?"
+
+"Yes--it has several rooms.  They could let their own house, and then
+they'd save heaps of money.  It would get them right out of London;
+and Mrs. Hunt told me that London is the very worst place for him--the
+doctors said so."
+
+"That is certainly an idea," Mr. Linton said.  "It's near enough to
+London for Hunt to run up for his treatment.  We could see that they
+were comfortable."  He smiled at Norah, whose flushed face was dimly
+visible through the steam of the coffee.  "I think it would be rather
+a good way to begin our job, Norah."
+
+"It would be so nice that it doesn't feel like any sort of work!" said
+Norah.
+
+"I think you may find a chance of work; they have three small
+children, and not much money," said her father prophetically.
+
+"I say, I hope the Major would agree," Jim put in.  "I know he's
+horribly proud."
+
+"We'll kidnap the babies, and then they'll just have to come," Norah
+laughed.
+
+"Picture Mr. Linton," said Wally happily, "carrying on the good work
+by stalking through London with three kids sticking out of his
+pockets--followed by Norah, armed with feeding-bottles!"
+
+"Wounded officer and wife hard in pursuit armed with shot guns!"
+supplemented Jim.  "I like your pacifist ideas of running a home for
+Tired People, I must say!"
+
+"Why, they would forget that they had ever been tired!" said Norah.
+"I think it's rather a brilliant notion--there certainly wouldn't be
+another convalescent home in England run on the same lines.  But
+you're not good on matters of detail--people don't have
+feeding-bottles for babies of that age."
+
+"I'm not well up in babies," said Wally.  "Nice people, but I like
+somebody else to manage 'em.  I thought bottles were pretty safe until
+they were about seven!"
+
+"Well, we'll talk it over with the Hunts to-morrow--the cottage, not
+the bottles," Mr. Linton said.  "Meanwhile, it's bed-time, so
+good-night, everybody."  He dispersed the assembly by the simple
+process of switching off the electric light--smiling to himself as Jim
+and Norah two-stepped, singing, down the tiny corridor in the
+darkness.
+
+But the mid-day post brought a worried little note from Mrs. Hunt,
+putting off the party.  Her husband had had a bad report on his hand
+that morning, and was going into hospital for an immediate operation.
+She hoped to fix a day later on--the note was a little incoherent.
+Norah had a sudden vision of the three small Hunts "who made rather
+more noise than a regiment" rampaging round the harassed mother as she
+tried to write.
+
+"Perhaps it's as well--we'll study the cottage, and make sure that
+it's all right for them," said her father.  "Then we'll kidnap them.
+Meanwhile we'll go and send them a big hamper of fruit, and put some
+sweets in for the babies."  A plan which was so completely after
+Norah's heart that she quite forgot her disappointment.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+SETTLING IN
+
+
+They bade good-bye to the flat early next morning and went down to
+Homewood through a dense fog that rolled up almost to the carriage
+windows like masses of white wool.  At the station the closed carriage
+waited for them, with the brown cobs pawing the ground impatiently.
+General Somers' chauffeur had gone with his master, and so far they
+had not succeeded in finding a substitute, but the groom and coachman,
+who were also gardeners in their spare time, considered themselves
+part 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 old
+coachman, told Mr. Linton.  So they left a bewildering assortment of
+suit-cases and trunks piled up on the platform in the care of an
+ancient porter, and packed themselves into the carriage.  Norah was
+wont to say that the only vehicle capable of accommodating her three
+long men-folk comfortably was an omnibus.  The fog was lifting as they
+rolled smoothly up the long avenue; and just as they came within sight
+of the house a gleam of pale sunlight found its way through the misty
+clouds and lingered on the ivy-clad gables.  The front door was flung
+wide to welcome them: on the steps hovered the ex-sergeant, wearing a
+discreet 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 her
+ancestral halls?" whispered Wally wickedly, as they mounted the steps.
+
+"If she felt simply horrible, then I do!" returned Norah.  "I suppose
+I'll get used to it in time, but at present I want a hollow log to
+crawl into!"
+
+Allenby greeted them respectfully.
+
+"We did not know what rooms you would like, sir," he said.  "They are
+all practically ready, of course.  My niece, miss, thought you might
+prefer 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," said
+her father, laughing.  "So if you have a fancy for any room, you had
+better take it, don't you think?"
+
+"Well, we'll tour round, and see," said Norah diplomatically, with
+mental visions of the sudden "turning-out" of rooms should weary
+guests arrive.  "It might be better to settle down from the first as
+we mean to be."
+
+"A lady has come, miss," said Allenby.  "I understood her to say she
+was 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 the
+lady expects one."
+
+"Well, she can't have one until one comes," said Mr. Linton.  "Cheer
+up, Norah, I'll talk to Miss de Lisle."
+
+"I'll be the kitchenmaid, if necessary," said Wally cheerfully.  "What
+does one do?"
+
+Allenby shuddered visibly.
+
+"My niece, I am sure, will do all she can, sir," he said.  His gaze
+dwelt on Wally's uniform; it was easy to see him quailing in spirit
+before 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 with
+the quick footsteps and cheery voices.  The big front bedrooms were at
+once put aside for future guests.  Norah fell in love with, and
+promptly appropriated, a little room that appeared to have been tucked
+into a corner by the architect, as an afterthought.  It was curiously
+shaped, with a quaint little nook for the bed, and had a big window
+furnished with a low cushioned seat, wide enough for any one to curl
+up with a book.  Mr. Linton and the boys selected rooms principally
+remarkable for bareness.  Jim had a lively hatred for furniture; they
+left him discussing with Allenby the question of removing a
+spindle-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, very
+pink and shiny as to complexion.  Her hair was strained back from her
+forehead 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 until
+we--er--until the staff is complete," said her employer.  "Your uncle
+tells 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 in
+Norah.
+
+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.  "I
+didn't guess what Brownie was saving me from, all these years."
+
+They found Miss de Lisle in the kitchen, where an enormous range
+glowed like a fiery furnace, in which respect Miss de Lisle rather
+resembled it.  She was a tall, stout woman, dressed in an overall
+several sizes too small for her.  The overall was rose-coloured, and
+Miss de Lisle was many shades deeper in hue.  She accepted their
+greetings without enthusiasm, and plunged at once into a catalogue of
+grievances.
+
+"The butler tells me there is no kitchenmaid," she boomed wrathfully.
+"And I had not expected such an antiquated range.  Nor could I
+possibly manage with these saucepans"--sweeping a scornful hand
+towards an array which seemed to the hapless Lintons to err only on
+the 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 the
+servants."
+
+"It would be rough on them!" rose to Norah's lips.  But she prudently
+kept 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 he
+considered this a point in the absent housekeeper's favour.  Miss de
+Lisle flamed anew.
+
+"I cannot sit with your housekeeper," she averred.  "You must
+remember, Mr. Linton, that I told you when engaging with you, that I
+expected 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 that
+we must have time to make arrangements.  As for what you require, we
+will 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 dear
+sir, do you know what Irish maids are like?"
+
+"They're the nicest maids I know," said Norah, speaking for the first
+time.  "And so kind and obliging."
+
+"H'm," sniffed the cook-lady.  "But you are not sure of obtaining even
+one of these treasures?"
+
+"Well, we'll all help," said Norah.  "Sarah will give you a hand until
+we 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 de
+Lisle was regarding her with an eye in which horror and amazement were
+mingled.
+
+"But we don't _do_ such things in England!" she gasped.  "Your
+brother!  And the other officer!  In my kitchen, may I ask?"
+
+"Well, one moment you seem afraid of too much work, and the next, of
+too much help," said Norah, laughing.  "You'd find them very useful."
+
+"I trust that I have never been afraid of work," said Miss de Lisle
+severely.  "But I have my position to consider.  There are duties
+which belong to it, and other duties which do not.  My province is
+cooking.  Cooking.  And nothing else.  Who, I ask, is to keep my
+kitchen clean?"
+
+"Me, if necessary," said a voice in which Allenby the butler was
+clearly merged in Allenby the sergeant.  "Begging your pardon, sir."
+He was deferential again--save for the eye with which he glared upon
+Miss de Lisle.  "I think, perhaps, between me and Sarah and--er--this
+lady, we can arrange matters for the present without troubling you or
+Miss Linton."
+
+"Do," said his employer thankfully.  He beat a retreat, followed by
+Norah--rather to Norah's disappointment.  She was beginning to feel
+warlike, and hankered for the battle, with Allenby ranged on her side.
+
+"I'm going to love Allenby," she said with conviction, as they gained
+the 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 to
+giggle.
+
+A dismal cab halted at a side entrance, and the driver was struggling
+with a stout iron trunk.  The passenger, a tall, angular woman, was
+standing in the doorway.
+
+"The housekeeper!" breathed Mr. Linton faintly.  "Do you feel equal to
+her, Norah?"  He fled, with disgraceful weakness, to the
+billiard-room.
+
+"Good morning," Norah said, advancing.
+
+"Good morning," returned the newcomer, with severity.  "I have rung
+three times."
+
+"Oh--we're a little shorthanded," said Norah, and began to giggle
+hopelessly, to her own dismay.  Her world seemed suddenly full of
+important upper servants, with no one to wait on them.  It was rather
+terrible, 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, recovering
+under that fish-like glare.  "You see, we've only just come.  I'll
+send 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 for
+Miss 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 have
+patted her head.  "Now look, miss," he said.  "You just leave them
+women to me; I'll fix them.  And don't you worry."
+
+"Oh, thank you, Allenby," said Norah gratefully.  She followed in her
+father's wake, leaving the butler to advance upon the wrathful figure
+that 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'll
+ever 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't
+we going to have a wild time!"
+
+"Well, if she and the cook-lady get going the encounter should be
+worth 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 see
+a little."
+
+"I should much prefer it in some one else's house," said Mr. Linton
+with haste.  "But it's bound to come, I should think, and then I shall
+be 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 grey
+felt.
+
+"Now you'll be happy!" said Norah, laughing.
+
+"I am," responded her father.  He put on the hat with tender care.  "I
+haven't been so comfortable since I was in Ireland.  It's one of the
+horrors of war that David Linton of Billabong has worn a stiff bowler
+hat for nearly a year!"
+
+"Never mind, no one in Australia would believe it unless they saw it
+photographed!" said Jim soothingly.  "And it hasn't had to be a
+top-hat, so you really haven't had to bear the worst."
+
+"That is certainly something," said his father.  "In the dim future I
+suppose you and Norah may get married; but I warn you here and now
+that you needn't expect me to appear in a top-hat.  However, there's
+no need to face these problems yet, thank goodness.  Suppose we leave
+the 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, thatched
+place, with wide casement windows that looked out on a trim stretch of
+grass.  At one side there was actually a little verandah! a sight so
+unusual in England that the Australians could scarcely believe their
+eyes.  Certainly it was only a very tiny verandah.
+
+Within, all was bright and cheery and simple.  The cottage had been
+used as a "barracks" when the sons of a former owner had brought home
+boy friends.  Two rooms were fitted with bunks built against the wall,
+as in a ship's cabin: there was a little dining-room, plainly
+furnished, and a big sitting-room that took up the whole width of the
+building, and had casement windows on three sides.  There was a roomy
+kitchen, 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 that
+I wouldn't rather live here than in your mansion, Norah; but I suppose
+it 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 the
+housekeeper to come down and make sure that it has enough pots and
+pans 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 the
+horses?"
+
+They spent a blissful half-hour in the stables, and arranged to ride
+in the afternoon--the old coachman was plainly delighted at the
+absence of a chauffeur, and displayed his treasures with a pride to
+which he had long been a stranger.
+
+"The 'orses 'aven't 'ad enough to do since Sir John used to come," he
+said.  "The General didn't care for them--an infantry gent he must
+have been--and it was always the motor for 'im.  We exercised 'em, of
+course, 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 out
+still.  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 other
+horses, Jones?  Can they jump?"
+
+"To tell you the truth, sir," said Jones happily, "there's not one of
+them that can't.  Even the cobs ain't too bad; and the black pony
+that'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 a
+bit, 'e did.  Of course they ain't made hunters, like Killaloe; but
+they're quick and clever, and once you know the country, and the short
+cuts, 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 ready
+again on a hunting morning!"
+
+The gong sounded from the house, and they bade the stables a reluctant
+good-bye.  Lunch waited in the morning-room; there was a pleasant
+sparkle of silver and glass on a little table in the window.  And
+there was no doubt that Miss de Lisle could cook.
+
+"If her temper were as good as her pastry, I should say we had found a
+treasure," said Mr. Linton, looking at the fragments which remained of
+a superlative apple-pie.  "Let's hope that Mrs. Moroney will discover
+a kitchenmaid or two, and that they will induce her to overlook our
+other 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 her
+because she thinks they aren't fit for her to speak to.  If she only
+knew how much nicer Allenby is!"
+
+"Or Brownie," said Wally loyally.  "Brownie could beat that pie with
+one hand tied behind her."
+
+Allenby entered--sympathy on every line of his face.
+
+"The 'ousekeeper--Mrs. Atkins--would like to see you, sir.  Or Miss
+Linton.  And so would Miss de Lisle."
+
+But Miss de Lisle was on his heels, breathing threatenings and
+slaughter.
+
+"There must be some arrangement made as to my instructions," she
+boomed.  "Your housekeeper evidently does not understand my position.
+She has had the impertinence to address me as 'Cook.'  Cook!"  She
+paused 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 oil
+on 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 in
+his turn, and endeavoured, with signal lack of success, to turn his
+emotion into a sneeze.
+
+Miss de Lisle's lowering countenance cleared somewhat.  She looked at
+Wally in a manner that was almost kindly.
+
+"War-time cookery is a makeshift, not an art," she said.  "Before the
+war I could have shown you what cooking could be."
+
+"That pie wasn't a makeshift," persisted Wally.  "It was a dream.  I
+say, 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 preferred
+bread-and-butter to pikelets, but the human beam in the cook-lady's
+eye was not to be neglected.  "We haven't had any for ages."  She cast
+about for further encouragement for the beam.  "Miss de Lisle, I
+suppose you have a very special cookery-book?"
+
+"I make my own recipes," said the cook-lady with pride.  "But for the
+war I should have brought out my book."
+
+"By Jove, you don't say so!" said Jim.  "I say, Norah, you'll have to
+get that when it comes out."
+
+"Rather!" said Norah.  "I wonder would it bother you awfully to show
+me some day how to make meringues?  I never can get them right."
+
+"We'll see," said Miss de Lisle graciously.  "And would you really
+like 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 marched
+out.  Suddenly she paused.
+
+"You will see the housekeeper, Mr. Linton?"
+
+"Oh, certainly!" said David Linton hastily.  The door closed; behind
+it 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 this
+fashion?"
+
+"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--say
+she and Miss de Lisle are here to run the house, not to bother you and
+Norah."
+
+"It's excellent in theory," said his father sadly, "but in practice I
+find my tongue cleaving to the roof of my mouth when these militant
+females tackle me.  And if you saw Mrs. Atkins you would realize how
+difficult it would be for me to regard her as a daughter.  But I'll do
+my best."
+
+Mrs. Atkins, admitted by the sympathetic Allenby, proved less fierce
+than the cook-lady, although by no stretch of imagination could she
+have been called pleasant.
+
+"I have never worked with a cook as considered herself a lady," she
+remarked.  "It makes all very difficult, and no kitchen-maid, and am I
+in authority or am I not?  And such airs, turning up her nose at being
+called Cook.  Which if she is the cook, why not be called so?  And
+going off to her bedroom with her dinner, no one downstairs being good
+enough to eat with her.  I must say it isn't what I'm used to, and me
+lived with the first families.  _Quite_ the first."  Mrs. Atkins
+ceased her weary monologue and gazed on the family with conscious
+virtue.  She was dressed in dull black silk, and looked overwhelmingly
+respectable.
+
+"Oh, well, you must put up with things as they are," said Mr. Linton
+vaguely.  "Miss de Lisle expects a few unusual things, but apparently
+there is no doubt that she can do her work.  I hope to have more maids
+in a few days; if not"--a brilliant idea striking him--"I must send
+you up to London to find us some, Mrs. Atkins."
+
+"I shall be delighted, sir," replied the housekeeper primly.  "And do
+I understand that the cook is to have a separate sitting-room?"
+
+"Oh, for goodness' sake, ask Allenby!" ejaculated her employer.  "It
+will have to be managed somewhere, or we shall have no cook!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+HOW THE COOK-LADY FOUND HER LEVEL
+
+
+Two days later, the morning mail brought relief--not too soon, for
+there was evidence that the battle between the housekeeper and the
+cook-lady could not be much longer delayed, and Sarah was going about
+with a face of wooden agony that gave Norah a chilly feeling whenever
+she encountered her.  Allenby alone retained any cheerfulness; and
+much of that was due to ancient military discipline.  Therefore Mrs.
+Moroney's letter was hailed with acclamation.  "Two maids she can
+recommend, bless her heart!" said Mr. Linton.  "She doesn't label
+their particular activities, but says they'll be willing to do
+anything at all."
+
+"That's the kind I like," said Norah thankfully.
+
+"And their names are Bride Kelly and Katty O'Gorman; doesn't that
+bring 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 Con
+Hegarty, that was shofer to Sir John at Rathcullen, and a decent boy
+with one leg and he after coming back from the war.  He have no job
+since Sir John died, and he bid me tell you he'd be proud to drive a
+car for you, and to be with ye all.  And if he have only one leg
+itself he's as handy as any one with two or more.  Sir John had him
+with him at Homewood, and he knows the car that's there, and 'tis the
+way if you had a job for him he could take the two girls over when he
+went, 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'd
+like 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 her
+father.  "I'll tell them to send me a telegram when they start."  He
+rose to leave the room.  "What are you going to do this morning,
+children?"
+
+
+"We're all turning out the cottage," Norah answered promptly.  "I
+haven't told Sarah; she disapproves of me so painfully if I do any
+work, and hurts my feelings by always doing it over again, if
+possible.  At the same time, she looks so unhappy about working at
+all, and sighs so often, that I don't feel equal to telling her that
+the cottage has to be done.  So Jim and Wally have nobly volunteered
+to 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 is
+very clean.  Only one likes to have everything extra nice when Tired
+People come."
+
+"Well, I'm not coming to sit still and do nothing," said her father
+firmly, "so I'll stay at home and write letters."  He watched them
+from the terrace a little later, racing across the lawn, and smiled a
+little.  It was so unlikely that this long-legged family of his would
+ever really grow up.
+
+The house was very quiet that morning.  Mrs. Atkins and Miss de Lisle
+having quarrelled over the question of dinner, had retreated, the one
+to the housekeeper's room, the other to the kitchen.  Sarah went about
+her duties sourly.  Allenby was Sarah's uncle, and, as such, felt some
+duty to her, which he considered he had discharged in getting her a
+good place; beyond that, Sarah frankly bored him, and he saw no reason
+to let her regard him as anything else than a butler.  "Bad for
+discipline, too!" he reflected.  Therefore Allenby was lonely.  He
+read the _Daily Mail_ in the seclusion of his pantry, and then,
+strolling through the hall, with a watchful eye alert lest a speck of
+dust should have escaped Sarah, he saw his master cross the garden and
+strike across the park in the direction of Hawkins' farm.  Every one
+else was out, Allenby knew not where.  An impulse for fresh air fell
+upon him, and he sauntered towards the shrubbery.
+
+Voices and laughter came to him from the cottage.  He pushed through
+the shrubs and found himself near a window; and, peeping through,
+received a severe shock to his well-trained nerves.  Norah, enveloped
+in a huge apron, was energetically polishing the kitchen tins; the
+boys, in their shirt-sleeves, were equally busy, Wally scrubbing the
+sink with Monkey soap, and Jim blackleading the stove.  It was very
+clear that work was no new thing to any of the trio.  Allenby gasped
+with horror.
+
+"Officers, too!" he ejaculated.  "What's the world coming to, I
+wonder!"  He hesitated a moment, and then walked round to the back
+door.
+
+"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 from
+the 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.  "I
+don't like to see you soilin' your 'ands, miss.  Nor the gentlemen."
+
+"The gentlemen are all right," said Wally cheerfully.  "Look at this
+sink, now, Allenby; did you ever see anything better?"
+
+"It's--it's not right," murmured Allenby unhappily.  He threw off his
+black coat suddenly, and advanced upon Jim.  "If you please, sir, I'll
+finish that stove."
+
+"That you won't," said Jim.  "Thanks all the same, Allenby, but I'm
+getting used to it now."  He laughed.  "Besides, don't you forget that
+you'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 his
+distressed 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 was
+doing," said the butler anxiously.  "It 'ud undermine me position.
+There's that Miss de Lisle, now--she looks down on everybody enough
+without 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 to
+work, Allenby, you could wash this floor--couldn't he, Norah?"
+
+"Thanks very much, sir," said Allenby gratefully, "I'll leave this
+place all right--just shut the door, sir, and don't you bother about
+it any more."
+
+"However did you dare, Jim?" breathed Norah, as the cleaning party
+moved towards the dining-room.  "Do you think a butler ever washed a
+floor before?"
+
+"Can't say," said Jim easily.  "I'm regarding him more as a sergeant
+than a butler, for the moment--not that I can remember seeing a
+sergeant wash a floor, either.  But he seemed anxious to help, so why
+not let him?  It won't hurt him; he's getting disgracefully fat.  And
+there's plenty to do."
+
+"Heaps," said Wally cheerily.  "Where's that floor-polish, Nor?  These
+boards want a rub.  What are you going to do?"
+
+"Polish brass," said Norah, beginning on a window-catch.  "When I grow
+up I think I'll be an architect, and then I'll make the sort of house
+that 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 any
+brass to keep clean, or any skirting-boards with pretty tops to catch
+dust, or any corners in the rooms.  Brownie and I used to talk about
+it.  All the cupboards will be built in, so's no dust can get under
+them, and the windows will have some patent dodge to open inwards when
+they want cleaning.  And there'll be built-in washstands in every
+room, with taps and plugs----"
+
+"Brass taps?" queried Wally.
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+"What then?"
+
+"Oh--something.  Something that doesn't need to be kept pretty.  And
+then there will be heaps of cupboard-room and heaps of
+shelf-room--only all the shelves will be narrow, so that nothing can
+be put behind anything else."
+
+"Whatever do you mean?" asked Jim.
+
+"She means dead mice--you know they get behind bottles of jam," said
+Wally kindly.  "Go on, Nor, you talk like a book."
+
+"Well, dead mice are as good as anything," said Norah lucidly.  "There
+won't be any room for their corpses on _my_ shelves.  And I'll have
+some arrangement for supplying hot water through the house that
+doesn't depend on keeping a huge kitchen fire alight."
+
+"That's a good notion," said Jim, sitting back on his heels, blacklead
+brush in hand.  "I think I'll go architecting with you, Nor.  We'll go
+in for all sorts of electric dodges; plugs in all the rooms to fix to
+vacuum cleaners you can work with one hand--most of 'em want two men
+and a boy; and electric washing-machines, and cookers, and fans and
+all kinds of things.  And everybody will be using them, so electricity
+will have to be cheap."
+
+"I really couldn't help listening to you," said a deep voice in the
+doorway.
+
+Every one jumped.  It was Miss de Lisle, in her skimpy red
+overall--rather more flushed than usual, and a little embarrassed.
+
+"I hope you don't mind," she said.  "I heard voices--and I didn't
+think any one lived here.  I knocked, but you were all so busy you
+didn't hear me."
+
+"So busy talking, you mean," laughed Wally.  "Terrible chatterboxes,
+Jim and Norah; they never get any work done."  A blacklead brush
+hurtled across the room: he caught it neatly and returned it to the
+owner.
+
+"But you're working terribly hard," said the cook-lady, in
+bewilderment.  "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 rescuing
+those poor little children and their father and mother!  It makes me
+feel quite sentimental.  Most cooks are sentimental, you know: it's
+such a--a warm occupation," she added vaguely.  "When I'm cooking
+something that requires particular care I always find myself crooning
+a love song!"  At which Wally collapsed into such a hopeless giggle
+that Jim and Norah, in little better case themselves, looked at him in
+horror, expecting to see him annihilated.  To their relief, Miss de
+Lisle grinned cheerfully.
+
+"Oh, yes, you may laugh!" she said--whereupon they all did.  "I know I
+don't look sentimental.  Perhaps it's just as well; nobody would want
+a cook with golden hair and languishing blue eyes.  And I do cook so
+much 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, but
+we can manage quite well."
+
+"Now, you're thinking of what I said the other day," said Miss de
+Lisle disgustedly.  "I know I did say my province was cooking, and
+nothing else.  But if you knew the places I've struck.  Dear me, there
+was one place where the footman chucked me under the chin!"
+
+It was too much for the others.  They sat down on the floor and
+shrieked in unison.
+
+"Yes, I know it's funny," said Miss de Lisle.  "I howled myself, after
+it was all over.  But I don't think the footman ever chucked any one
+under the chin again.  I settled him!"  There was a reminiscent gleam
+in her eye: Norah felt a flash of sympathy for the hapless footman.
+
+"Then there was another house--that was a duke's--where the butler
+expected me to walk out with him.  That's the worst of it: if you
+behave like a human being you get that sort of thing, and if you don't
+you're a pig, and treated accordingly."  She looked at them
+whimsically.  "Please don't think me a pig!" she said.  "I--I shall
+never 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'm
+going to polish the boards in the passage, and then you can give me
+another 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 knew
+how nice it is to speak to some one again!"  She swooped upon Wally's
+tin of floor-polish, scooped half of its contents into the lid with a
+hair-pin, commandeered two cloths from a basketful of cleaning
+matters, and strode off.  From the passage came a steady pounding that
+spoke 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.  But
+after our first day I wouldn't have dared to make a remark to her
+unless she'd condescended to address me first."
+
+"I should think you wouldn't," said Wally.  "But she's really quite
+human when she tucks her claws in."
+
+"Oh, my aunt!" said Jim, chuckling.  "I'd give a month's pay to have
+seen the footman chuck her under the chin!"  They fell into
+convulsions 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 her
+knees, 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 one
+who 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 the
+irreproachable Allenby struggled in a heap--in an ever-widening pool
+of water that came from an overturned bucket lying a yard away.  The
+family 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 just
+come 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!" returned
+Miss de Lisle.  "But it's--it's just t-too funny, isn't it!"  She
+broke into a shout of laughter, and the others, who had, indeed, been
+choking with repressed feeling, followed suit.  Allenby, after a
+gallant attempt to preserve the correct demeanour of a butler,
+unchanged by any circumstance, suddenly bolted into the kitchen like a
+rabbit.  They heard strange sounds from the direction of the sink.
+
+"But, I say, you're drenched!" said Jim, when every one felt a little
+better.
+
+Miss de Lisle glanced at her stained and dripping overall.
+
+"Well, a little.  I'll take this off," she said, suiting the action to
+the word, and appearing in a white blouse and grey skirt which suited
+her very much better than the roseate garment.  "But my floor!  And I
+had 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 the
+bewildered 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 an
+appealing glance at Jim.
+
+"This is a working-bee," said Jim promptly.  "We're all in it, and no
+one 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?  And
+polish it after.  I can easy slip down 'ere for a couple of hours
+after 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 friendly
+fashion.  "Thank you all very much," she said--and was gone, with a
+kind of elephantine swiftness.
+
+The family returned to the dining-room, leaving Allenby to grapple
+with the swamp in the passage.
+
+"Don't we have cheery adventures when we clean house!" said Wally
+happily.  "I wouldn't have missed this morning for anything."
+
+"No--it _has_ been merry and bright," Jim agreed.  "And isn't the
+cook-lady a surprise-packet!  I say, Nor, do you think you'd find a
+human side to Mrs. Atkins if we let Allenby fall over her with a
+bucket of water?"
+
+"'Fraid not," said Norah.
+
+"You can't find what doesn't exist," said Wally wisely.  "Mrs. Atkins
+is only a walking cruet--sort of mixture of salt and vinegar."
+
+They told the story to Mr. Linton over the luncheon-table, after
+Allenby had withdrawn.  Nevertheless, the butler, listening from his
+pantry to the shouts of laughter from the morning-room, had a fairly
+good idea of the subject under discussion, and became rather pink.
+
+"It's lovely in another way," Norah finished.  "For you see, I thought
+Miss de Lisle wasn't human, but I was all wrong.  She's rather a dear
+when 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 and
+bishops--Mrs. Atkins is the upper servant, and she'll resent it if you
+put 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 Norah
+often, and when she did it was in Mrs. Atkins' presence: and on these
+occasions she maintained an attitude of impersonal politeness which
+made it hard to realize that she and the butler had indeed bathed
+together on the floor of the cottage.  She found various matters in
+her little sitting-room: an easy-chair, a flowering pot-plant, a pile
+of books that bore Norah's name--or Jim's; but she made no sign of
+having received them except that Norah found on her table at night a
+twisted note in a masculine hand that said "Thank you.--C. de L."  As
+for Mrs. Atkins, she made her silent way about the house, sour and
+watchful, her green eyes rather resembling those of a cat, and her
+step as stealthy.  Norah tried hard to talk to her on other matters
+than housekeeping, but found her so stolidly unresponsive that at last
+she gave up the attempt.  Life, as she said to Wally, was too short to
+woo a cruet-stand!
+
+The week flew by swiftly, every moment busy with work and plans for
+the Tired People to come.  Mrs. Atkins, it was plain, did not like the
+scheme.  She mentioned that it would make a great deal of work, and
+how did Norah expect servants in these days to put up with unexpected
+people coming at all sorts of hours?
+
+"But," said Norah, "that's what the house is _for_.  My father and I
+would not want a houseful of servants if we didn't mean to have a
+houseful of people.  What would we do with you all?"  At which Mrs.
+Atkins sniffed, and replied haughtily that she had been in a place
+where there was only one lady, and _she_ kept eleven servants.
+
+"More shame for her," said Norah.  "Anyhow, we explained it all to you
+when we engaged you, Mrs. Atkins.  If we weren't going to have people
+here we should still be living in London, in a flat.  And if the
+servants won't do their work, we shall just have to get others who
+will."  Which was a terrible effort of firmness for poor Norah, who
+inwardly hoped that Mrs. Atkins did not realize that she was shaking
+in 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't
+expect----!  Well, _I_ don't know what the world's coming to."  But
+Norah, feeling unequal to more, fled, and, being discovered by Wally
+and Jim with her head in her hands over an account-book, was promptly
+taken out on Killaloe--the boys riding the cobs, which they
+untruthfully persisted that they preferred.
+
+Then came Tuesday morning: with early breakfast, and the boys once
+more in khaki, and Jones, in the carriage, keeping the browns moving
+in the chill air.  Not such a hard parting as others they had known
+since for the present there was no anxiety: but from the days when Jim
+used to leave Billabong for his Melbourne boarding-school, good-bye
+morning had been a difficult one for the Lintons.  They joked through
+it in their usual way: it was part of the family creed to keep the
+flag 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-tea
+diet 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'll
+write soon, Jim, and tell us how you get on--and what your next
+movements are."
+
+"Rather," answered Jim.  "Don't let the lady of the house wear off all
+her curls over the accounts, will you, Dad?  I'd hate to see her
+bald!"
+
+"I'll keep an eye on her," said his father.  "Now, boys; it's time you
+were off."
+
+They shook hands with Allenby, to his secret gratification.  He closed
+the carriage door upon them, and stood back at attention, as they
+drove off.  From an upper window--unseen, unfortunately--a figure in a
+red overall leaned, waving a handkerchief.
+
+The train was late, and they all stamped about the platform--it was a
+frosty morning.
+
+"Buck up, old kiddie," said Jim.  "We'll be home in no time.  And look
+after Dad."
+
+"Yes--rather!" said Norah.  "Send me all your socks when they want
+darning--which is every week."
+
+"Right."  They looked at each other with the blank feeling of having
+nothing to say that comes on station platforms or on the decks of
+ships before the final bell rings.  Then the train came in sight, the
+elderly porter, expectant of a tip, bustled mightily with suit-cases
+and kit-bags, and presently they were gone.  The two brown faces hung
+out 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 our
+job."
+
+They went out to the carriage.  Just as they were getting in, the
+ancient 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 out
+of the station.  Behind him came two girls.
+
+"Why, it's Con!" Norah cried.
+
+"It is, miss," said the chauffeur.  "And the gerrls I have with
+me--Bridie and Katty."
+
+"But you didn't write," Mr. Linton said.
+
+"Well, indeed, I was that rushed, an' we gettin' off," said Con.  "But
+I give Patsy Burke the money and towld him to send the wire.  But 'tis
+the way with Patsy he'll likely think it'll do in a day or two as well
+as any time."  And as a matter of fact, the telegram duly arrived
+three days later--by which time the new arrivals had shaken down, and
+there seemed some prospect of domestic peace in the Home for Tired
+People.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+KIDNAPPING
+
+
+Mrs. Hunt came slowly down the steps of a Park Lane mansion, now used
+as an officers' hospital.  She was tired and dispirited; her steps
+dragged as she made her way towards Piccadilly.  Beneath her veil her
+pretty face showed white, with lines of anxiety deepening it.
+
+An officer, hurrying by, stopped and came eagerly to speak to her.
+
+"How are you, Mrs. Hunt?  And how's the Major?"
+
+"Not very well," said Mrs. Hunt, answering the second part of the
+question.  "The operation was more successful than any he has had yet,
+but there has been a good deal of pain, and he doesn't seem to pick up
+strength.  The doctors say that his hand now depends a good deal upon
+his general health: he ought to live in the country, forget that
+there's a war on, and get thoroughly fit."  She sighed.  "It's so easy
+for doctors to prescribe these little things."
+
+"Yes--they all do it," said the other--a captain in Major Hunt's
+regiment.  "May I go to see him, do you think?"
+
+"Oh, do," Mrs. Hunt answered.  "It will cheer him up; and anything
+that will do that is good.  He's terribly depressed, poor old boy."
+She said good-bye, and went on wearily.
+
+It was a warm afternoon for October.  Norah Linton and her father had
+come up to London by an early train, and, after much shopping, had
+lunched at a little French restaurant in Soho, where they ate queer
+dishes and talked exceedingly bad French to the pretty waitress.  It
+was four o'clock when they found themselves at the door of a dingy
+building in Bloomsbury.
+
+"Floor 3, the Hunts' flat, Daddy," said Norah, consulting a note-book.
+"I suppose there is a lift."
+
+There was a lift, but it was out of order; a grimy card, tucked into
+the lattice of the doorway, proclaimed the fact.  So they mounted
+flight after flight of stairs, and finally halted before a doorway
+bearing Major Hunt's card.  A slatternly maid answered their ring.
+
+"Mrs. Hunt's out," she said curtly.  "Gorn to see the Mijor."
+
+"Oh--will she be long?"
+
+"Don't think so--she's gen'lly home about half-past four.  Will yer
+wait?"
+
+Norah looked at her father.
+
+"Oh yes, we'll wait," he said.  They followed the girl into a narrow
+passage, close and airless, and smelling of Irish stew.  Sounds of
+warfare came from behind a closed door: a child began to cry loudly,
+and a boy's voice was heard, angry and tired.
+
+The maid ushered the visitors into a dingy little drawing-room.  Norah
+stopped her as she was departing.
+
+"Could I see the children?"
+
+The girl hesitated.
+
+"They're a bit untidy," she said sullenly.  "I ain't had no time to
+clean 'em up.  There ain't no one to take them for a walk to-day."
+
+"Oh, never mind how untidy they are," said Norah hastily.  "Do send
+them in."
+
+"Oh, all right," said the girl.  "You'll tell the missus it was you
+arsked for 'em, won't yer?"
+
+"Yes, of course."
+
+She went out, and the Lintons looked at each other, and then at the
+hopeless little room.  The furniture was black horsehair, very shiny
+and hard and slippery; there was a gimcrack bamboo overmantel, with
+much speckled glass, and the pictures were of the kind peculiar to
+London lodging-houses, apt to promote indigestion in the beholder.
+There was one little window, looking out upon a blank courtyard and a
+dirty little side-street, where children played and fought
+incessantly, and stray curs nosed the rubbish in the gutters in the
+hope of finding food.  There was nothing green to be seen, nothing
+clean, nothing pleasant.
+
+"Oh, poor kiddies!" said Norah, under her breath.
+
+The door opened and they came in; not shyly--the London child is
+seldom shy--but frankly curious, and in the case of the elder two,
+with suspicion.  Three white-faced mites, as children well may be who
+have spent a London summer in a Bloomsbury square, where the very
+pavements sweat tar, and the breathless, sticky heat is as cruel by
+night as by day.  A boy of six, straight and well-grown, with dark
+hair and eyes, who held by the hand a small toddling person with damp
+rings of golden hair: behind them a slender little girl, a little too
+shadowy for a mother's heart to be easy; with big brown eyes peeping
+elfishly from a cloud of brown curls.
+
+The boy spoke sullenly.
+
+"Eva told us to come in," he said.
+
+"We wanted you to take care of us," said Norah.  "You see, your mother
+isn't here."
+
+"But we can't have tea," said the boy.  "Eva says she isn't cleaned up
+yet, and besides, there's no milk, and very likely Mother'll forget
+the cakes, she said."
+
+"But we don't want tea," said Norah.  "We had a big lunch, not so long
+ago.  And besides, we've got something nicer than tea.  It's in his
+pocket."  She nodded at her father, who suddenly smiled in the way
+that made every child love him, and, fishing in his pocket drew out a
+square white box--at sight of which the baby said delightedly, "Choc!"
+and a kind of incredulous wonder, rather pitiful to see, came into the
+eyes of Geoffrey and his sister.
+
+"There's a very difficult red ribbon on this," said Mr. Linton,
+fumbling with it.  "I can't undo it."  He smiled at little Alison.
+"You show me how."
+
+She was across the room in a flash, the baby at her heels, while
+Geoffrey made a slow step or two, and then stopped again.
+
+"But you don't undone it 'tall," she said.  "It sticks on top.  You
+breaks this paper"--pointing to the seal--"and then it undones
+himself."
+
+"You're quite right," said Mr. Linton, as the lid came off.  "So it
+does.  How did you know?"
+
+"We did have lots of boxes when we lived with the wegiment," said the
+small girl; "but now the wegiment's in Fwance, and Daddy doesn't have
+enough pennies for chocs."  Her busy fingers tossed aside tissue paper
+and silver wrapping, until the brown rows of sweets were revealed.
+Then she put her hands by her sides.
+
+"Is we to have some?"
+
+"Oh, you poor little soul!" said David Linton hurriedly, and caught
+her up on his knee.  He held the box in front of her.
+
+"Now, which sort do you think is best for weeshy boys like that?" he
+asked, indicating the baby, who was making silent dives in the
+direction of the box.  "And which do you like?--and Geoffrey?"
+
+"Michael likes these."  She fished one out carefully, and Michael fell
+upon it, sitting on the carpet that he might devour it at his ease.
+"And Geoff and me--oh, we likes any 'tall."
+
+"Then you shall have any at all."  He held out his free hand.  "Come
+on, Geoff."  And the boy, who had hesitated, digging one foot into the
+carpet, suddenly capitulated and came.
+
+"Are you an officer?" he asked presently.
+
+"No, I'm too old," said David Linton.  "But I have a big son who is
+one--and another boy too."
+
+"What's their regiment?"
+
+"The same as your father's."
+
+"Truly?"  A sparkle came into the boy's eyes.  "I'm going to be in it
+some day."
+
+"Of course you will--and Michael too, I suppose.  And then you'll
+fight the Germans--that is, if there are any left."
+
+"Daddy says there won't be.  But I keep hoping there'll be just a few
+for me and Michael.'
+
+"Alison wants some too," said that lady.  "Wants to kill vem wiv my
+wevolver."
+
+"A nice young fire-eater, you are," said Mr. Linton, laughing.
+
+"Girls can't kill Germans, silly," said Geoffrey scornfully.  "They
+have to stop at home and make bandages."  To which his sister replied
+calmly, "Shan't: I'm going to kill forty 'leven," with an air of
+finality which seemed to end the discussion.  Norah checked any
+further warlike reflections by finding a new layer of sweets as
+attractive as those on top, and the three heads clustered over the box
+in a pleasant anxiety of selection.
+
+The carriages on the Tube railway had been very stuffy that afternoon.
+Mrs. Hunt emerged thankfully from the crowded lift which shot up the
+passengers from underground.  She came with slow step into the dusty
+street.  The flat was not far away: that was one comfort.  But she
+sighed impatiently as she entered the building, to be confronted with
+the "Not Working" legend on the lift.
+
+"Little wretch!" she said, alluding to the absent lift-boy.  "I'm sure
+he's only playing pitch-and-toss round the corner."  She toiled up the
+three long flights of stairs--her dainty soul revolting at their
+unswept dinginess.  Stella Hunt had been brought up in a big house on
+a wind-swept Cumberland fell, and there was no day in crowded
+Bloomsbury when she did not long for the clean open spaces of her
+girlhood.
+
+She let herself into the flat with her latch-key.  Voices came to her
+from the sitting-room, with a gurgle of laughter from little Michael.
+She frowned.
+
+"Eva should not have let the children in there," she thought
+anxiously.  "They may do some damage."  She opened the door hurriedly.
+
+No one noticed her for a moment, David Linton, with Alison on one knee
+and Geoffrey on the other, was deep in a story of kangaroo-hunting.
+On the floor sat Norah, with Michael tucked into her lap, his face
+blissful as she told on his fat fingers the tale of the little pigs
+who went to market.  The box of chocolates was on the table, its
+scarlet ribbon making a bright spot of colour in the drab room.  The
+mother looked for a minute in silence, something of the weariness
+dying out of her eyes.
+
+Then Geoffrey looked up and saw her--a slight figure, holding a paper
+bag.
+
+"Hallo!" he said.  "I'm glad you didn't forget the cakes, 'cause we've
+got people to tea!"
+
+Mr. Linton placed his burden on the hearthrug, and got up.
+
+"How are you, Mrs. Hunt?  I hope you don't mind our taking possession
+like this.  We wanted to get acquainted."
+
+"I could wish they were cleaner," said Mrs. Hunt, laughing, as she
+shook hands.  "I've seldom seen three grubbier people.  Geoff, dear,
+couldn't Eva have washed your face?"
+
+"She said she hadn't time," said Geoffrey easily.  "We tried to wash
+Michael, but he only got more streaky."
+
+"Oh, please don't mind, Mrs. Hunt," Norah pleaded.  "They've been such
+darlings!"
+
+"I'm afraid I don't mind at all," said Mrs. Hunt, sitting down
+thankfully.  "I've been picturing my poor babies tired to death of not
+being out--and then to come home and find them in the seventh
+heaven----"  She broke off, her lip quivering a little.
+
+"You're just as tired as you can be," said Norah.  "Now you're going
+to rest, and Geoff will show me how to get tea."
+
+"Oh, I couldn't let you into that awful little kitchen," said Mrs.
+Hunt hastily.  "And besides--I'm awfully sorry--I don't believe the
+milkman has been yet."
+
+"I could go to the milk-shop round the corner with a jug," said
+Geoffrey anxiously.  "Do let's, Mother."
+
+"Is there one?" Norah asked.  "Now, Mrs. Hunt, do rest--make her put
+her feet up on the sofa, Dad.  And Geoff and I will go for milk, and
+I'll ask Eva to make tea.  Can she?"
+
+"Oh, of course she _can_" said Mrs. Hunt, ceasing to argue the point.
+"But she's never fit to be seen."
+
+"That doesn't matter," said David Linton masterfully.  "We've seen her
+once, and survived the shock.  Just put your feet up, and tell me all
+about your husband--Norah will see to things."
+
+Eva, however, was found to have risen to the situation.  She had used
+soap and water with surprising effect, and now bloomed in a fresh cap
+and an apron that had plainly done duty a good many times, but, being
+turned inside out, still presented a decent front to the world.  She
+scorned help in preparing tea, but graciously permitted Norah to wash
+the three children and brush their hair, and indicated where clean
+overalls might be found.  Then, escorted by all three, Norah sallied
+forth, jug in hand, and found, not only the milk-shop, but another
+where cakes and scones so clamoured to be bought that they all
+returned laden with paper bags.  Eva had made a huge plate of buttered
+toast; so that the meal which presently made its appearance on the big
+table in the drawing-room might well have justified the query as to
+whether indeed a war were in progress.
+
+Mrs. Hunt laughed, rather mirthlessly.
+
+"I suppose I ought to protest--but I'm too tired," she said.  "And it
+is very nice to be taken care of again.  Michael, you should have
+bread-and-butter first."
+
+"Vere isn't any," said Alison with triumph.
+
+Norah was tucking a feeder under Michael's fat chin.
+
+"Now he's my boy for a bit--not yours at all, Mrs. Hunt," she said,
+laughing.  "Forget them all: I'm going to be head nurse."  And Mrs.
+Hunt lay back thankfully, and submitted to be waited on, while the
+shouts of laughter from the tea-table smoothed away a few more lines
+from her face, and made even Eva, feasting on unaccustomed cakes in
+the kitchen, smile grimly and murmur, "Lor, ain't they 'avin' a time!"
+
+Not until tea was over, and the children busy with picture books that
+had come mysteriously from another of his pockets, did David Linton
+unfold his plan: and then he did it somewhat nervously.
+
+"We want to take you all out of this, Mrs. Hunt," he said.  "There's a
+little cottage--a jolly little thatched place--close to our house that
+is simply clamouring to have you all come and live in it.  I think it
+will hold you all comfortably.  Will you come?"
+
+Mrs. Hunt flushed.
+
+"Don't talk to poor Bloomsbury people of such heavenly things as
+thatched cottages," she said.  "We have this horrible abode on a long
+lease, and I don't see any chance of leaving it."
+
+"Oh, never mind the lease--we'll sub-let it for you," said Mr. Linton.
+He told her briefly of John O'Neill's bequest to Norah.
+
+"I want you to put it out of your head that you're accepting the
+slightest favour," he went on.  "We feel that we only hold the place
+in trust; the cottage is there, empty, and indeed it is you who will
+be doing us the favour by coming to live in it."
+
+"Oh--I couldn't," she said breathlessly.
+
+"Just think of it, Mrs. Hunt!" Norah knelt down by the hard little
+horsehair sofa.  "There's a big lawn in front, and a summer-house
+where the babies could play, and a big empty attic for them on wet
+days, and heaps of fresh milk, and you could keep chickens; and the
+sitting-room catches all the sun, and when Major Hunt comes out of the
+hospital it would be so quiet and peaceful.  He could lie out under
+the trees on fine days on a rush lounge; and there are jolly woods for
+him to walk in."  The poor wife caught her breath.  "And he'd be such
+tremendous company for Dad, and I know you'd help me when I got into
+difficulties with my cook-lady.  There's a little stream, and a tiny
+lake, and----"
+
+"When is we goin', Muvver?"
+
+The question was Alison's, put with calm certainty.  She and Geoffrey
+had stolen near, and were listening with eager faces.
+
+"Oh, my darling, I'm afraid we can't," said Mrs. Hunt tremulously.
+
+"But the big girl says we can.  When is we going?"
+
+"Oh, Mother!" said Geoffrey, very low.  "Away from--_here_!"  He
+caught her hand.  "Oh, say we're going, Mother--darling!"
+
+"Of course she'll say it," David Linton said.  "The only question is,
+how soon can you be ready?"
+
+"Douglas is terribly proud," Mrs. Hunt said.  "I am afraid I couldn't
+be proud.  But he will never accept a favour.  I know it would be no
+use to ask him."
+
+"Then we won't ask him," said David Linton calmly.  "When does he
+leave the hospital?"
+
+"This day week, if he is well enough."
+
+"Then we'll have you comfortably installed long before that.  We won't
+tell him a thing about it: on the day he's to come out I'll go for him
+in the motor and whisk him down to Homewood before he realizes where
+he's going.  Now, be sensible, Mrs. Hunt"--as she tried to speak.
+"You know what his state is--how anxious you are: you told me all
+about it just now.  Can you, in justice to him, refuse to come?--can
+you face bringing him back here?"
+
+Geoffrey suddenly burst into sobs.
+
+"Oh, don't Mother!" he choked.  "You know how he hates it.
+And--trees, and grass, and woods, and----"  He hid his face on her
+arm.
+
+"An' tsickens," said Alison.  "An' ackits to play in."
+
+"You're in a hopeless minority, you see, Mrs. Hunt," said Mr. Linton.
+"You'll have to give in."
+
+Mrs. Hunt put her arms round the two children who were pressing
+against her in their eagerness: whereupon Michael raised a wrathful
+howl and flung himself bodily upon them, ejaculating: "Wants to be
+hugged, too!"  Over the three heads the mother looked up at her
+visitors.
+
+"Yes, I give in," she said.  "I'm not brave enough not to.  But I
+don't know what Douglas will say."
+
+"I'll attend to Douglas," said Mr. Linton cheerfully.  "Now, how soon
+can you come?"  He frowned severely.  "There's to be no question of
+house-cleaning here--I'll put in people to do that.  You'll have your
+husband to nurse next week, and I won't have you tiring yourself out
+beforehand.  So you have only to pack."
+
+"Look, Mrs. Hunt," Norah was flushed with another brilliant idea.
+"Let us take the babies down to-day--I'm sure they will come with me.
+Then you and Eva will have nothing to do but pack up your things."
+
+"Oh, I couldn't----" Mrs. Hunt began.
+
+"Ah yes, you could."  She turned to the children.  "Geoff, will you
+all come with my Daddy and me and get the cottage ready for Mother?"
+
+Geoffrey hesitated.
+
+"Would you come soon, Mother?"
+
+"I--I believe if I had nothing else to do I could leave the flat
+to-morrow," Mrs. Hunt said, submitting.  "Would you all be happy,
+Geoff?--and very good?"
+
+"Yes, if you'd hurry up and come.  You'll be a good kid, Alison, won't
+you?"
+
+"'Ess," said Alison.  "Will I see tsickens?"
+
+"Ever so many," Norah said.  "And Michael will be a darling: and we'll
+all sleep together in one big room, and have pillow-fights!"
+
+"You had certainly better come soon, before your family's manners
+become ruined, Mrs. Hunt," said Mr. Linton, laughing.  "Then you can
+really manage to get away to-morrow?  Very well--I'll call for you
+about five, if that will do."
+
+"Yes; that will give me time to see Douglas first."
+
+"But you won't tell him anything?"
+
+"Oh, no: he would only worry.  Of course, Mr. Linton, I shall be able
+to get up to see him every day?"
+
+"We're less than an hour by rail," he told her.  "And the trains are
+good.  Now I think you had better pack up those youngsters, and I'll
+get a taxi."
+
+Norah helped to pack the little clothes, trying hard to remember
+instructions as to food and insistence on good manners.
+
+"Oh, I know you'll spoil them," said Mrs. Hunt resignedly.  "Poor
+mites, they could do with a bit of spoiling: they have had a dreary
+year.  But I think they will be good: they have been away with my
+sister sometimes, and she gives them a good character."
+
+The children said good-bye to their mother gaily enough: the ride in
+the motor was sufficient excitement to smooth out any momentary dismay
+at parting.  Only Geoffrey sat up very straight, with his lips tightly
+pressed together.  He leaned from the window--Norah gripping his coat
+anxiously.
+
+"You'll be true-certain to come to-morrow, Mother?"
+
+"I promise," she said.  "Good-bye, old son."
+
+"Mother always keeps her promises, so it's all right," he said,
+leaning back with a little smile.  Alison had no worries.  She sang
+"Hi, diddle, diddle!" loud and clear, as they rushed through the
+crowded streets.  When a block in the traffic came, people on 'buses
+looked down, smiling involuntarily at the piping voice coming from the
+recesses of the taxi.  As for Michael, he sat on Norah's knee and
+sucked his thumb in complete content.
+
+Jones met them at the end of the little journey.  His lips
+involuntarily shaped themselves to a whistle of amazement as the party
+filed out of the station, though to the credit of his training be it
+recorded that no sound came.  Geoffrey caught his breath with delight
+at the sight of the brown cobs.
+
+"Oh-h!  Are they yours?"
+
+"Yes--aren't they dears?" responded Norah.
+
+The boy caught her hand.
+
+"Oh--could I _possibly_ sit in front and look at them?"
+
+Norah laughed.
+
+"Could he, Jones?  Would you take care of him?"
+
+"'E'd be as safe as in a cradle, Miss Norah," said Jones delightedly.
+"Come on up, sir, and I'll show you 'ow to drive."  Mr. Linton swung
+him up, smiling at the transfigured little face.  Norah had already
+got her charges into the carriage: a porter stowed away their trunk,
+and the horses trotted off through the dusk.
+
+"I didn't ever want to get out," Geoffrey confided to Norah, as they
+went up the steps to the open door of Homewood.  "That kind man let me
+hold the end of the reins.  And he says he'll show me more horses
+to-morrow."
+
+"There's a pony too--we'll teach you to ride it," said Mr. Linton.
+Whereat Geoffrey gasped with joy and became speechless.
+
+"Well--have you got them all tucked up?" asked Mr. Linton, when Norah
+joined him in the morning-room an hour later.
+
+"Oh, yes; they were so tired, poor mites.  Bride helped me to bathe
+them, and we fed them all on bread and milk--with lots of cream.
+Michael demanded "Mummy," but he was too sleepy to worry much.  But;
+Dad--Geoff wants you badly to say 'good-night.'  He says his own Daddy
+always says it to him when he's in bed.  Would you mind?"
+
+"Right," said her father.  He went upstairs, with Norah at his heels,
+and tiptoed into the big room where two of his three small guests were
+already sleeping soundly.  He looked very tall as he stood beside the
+little bed in the corner.  Geoff's bright eyes peeped up at him.
+
+"It was awful good of you to come," he said sleepily.  "Daddy does.
+He says, 'Good night, old chap, and God bless you.'"
+
+"Good night, old chap, and God bless you," said David Linton gravely.
+He held the small hand a moment in his own, and then, stooping,
+brushed his forehead with his lips.
+
+"God bless you," said Geoff's drowsy voice.  "I'm going--going to ride
+the pony . . . to-morrow."  His words trailed off in sleep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+THE THATCHED COTTAGE
+
+
+But for the narrow white beds, you would hardly have thought that the
+big room was a hospital ward.  In days before all the world was caught
+into a whirlpool of war it had been a ballroom.  A famous painter had
+made the vaulted ceiling an exquisite thing of palest blush-roses and
+laughing Cupids, tumbling among vine-leaves and tendrils.  The white
+walls bore long panels of the same design.  There were no fittings for
+light visible: when darkness fell, the touch of a button flooded the
+room with a soft glow, coming from some unseen source in the carved
+cornice.  The shining floor bore heavy Persian rugs, and there were
+tables heaped with books and magazines; and the nurses who flitted in
+and out were all dainty and good to look at.  All about the room were
+splendid palms in pots; from giants twenty feet high, to lesser ones
+the graceful leaves of which could just catch the eye of a tired man
+in bed--fresh from the grim ugliness of the trenches.  It was the
+palms you saw as you came in--not the beds here and there among them.
+
+A good many of the patients were up this afternoon, for this was a
+ward for semi-convalescents.  Not all were fully dressed: they moved
+about in dressing-gowns, or lay on the sofas, or played games at the
+little tables.  One man was in uniform: Major Hunt, who sat in a big
+chair near his bed, and from time to time cast impatient glances at
+the door.
+
+"Wish we weren't going to lose you, Major," said a tall man in a
+purple dressing-gown, who came up the ward with wonderful swiftness,
+considering that he was on crutches.  "But I expect you're keen to
+go."
+
+"Oh, yes; though I'll miss this place."  Major Hunt cast an
+appreciative glance down the beautiful room.  "It has been great luck
+to be here; there are not many hospitals like this in England.
+But--well, even if home is only a beastly little flat in Bloomsbury it
+_is_ home, and I shall be glad to get back to my wife and the
+youngsters.  I miss the kids horribly."
+
+"Yes, one does," said the other.
+
+"I daresay I'll find them something of a crowd on wet days, when they
+can't get out," said Major Hunt, laughing.  "The flat is small, and my
+wretched nerves are all on edge.  But I want them badly, for all that.
+And it's rough on my wife to be so much alone.  She has led a kind of
+wandering life since war broke out--sometimes we've been able to have
+the kids with us, but not always."  He stretched himself wearily.
+"Gad! how glad I'll be when the Boche is hammered and we're able to
+have a decent home again!"
+
+"We're all like that," said the other man.  "I've seen my youngsters
+twice in the last year."
+
+"Yes, you're worse off than I am," said Major Hunt.  He looked
+impatiently towards the door, fidgeting.  "I wish Stella would come."
+
+But when a nurse brought him a summons presently, and he said good-bye
+to the ward and went eagerly down to the ground-floor (in an electric
+lift worked by an earl's daughter in a very neat uniform), it was not
+his wife who awaited him in a little white-and-gold sitting-room, but
+a very tall man, looking slightly apologetic.
+
+"Your wife is perfectly well," said David Linton, checking the quick
+inquiry that rose to the soldier's lips.  "But I persuaded her to give
+me the job of calling for you to-day: our car is rather more
+comfortable than a taxi, and the doctor thought it would be a good
+thing for you to have a little run first."
+
+Major Hunt tried not to look disappointed, and failed signally.
+
+"It's awfully good of you," he said courteously.  "But I don't believe
+I'm up to much yet--and I'm rather keen on getting home.  If you
+wouldn't mind going there direct."
+
+David Linton cast an appealing look at the nurse, who had accompanied
+her patient.  She rose to the occasion promptly.
+
+"Now, Major Hunt," she protested.  "Doctor's orders!  You promised to
+take all the exercise you could, and a run in the car would be the
+very thing for you."
+
+"Oh, very well."  Major Hunt's voice was resigned.  David Linton
+leaned towards him.
+
+"I'll make it as short as I can," he said confidentially.  They said
+good-bye, and emerged into Park Lane, where the big blue motor waited.
+
+"Afraid you must think me horribly rude," said the soldier, as they
+started.  "Fact is, I'm very anxious to see my youngsters: I don't
+know why, but Stella wouldn't bring them to the hospital to see me
+this last week.  But it's certainly jolly to be out again."  He leaned
+back, enjoying the comfort of the swift car.  "I suppose--" he
+hesitated--"it would be altogether too much trouble to go round by the
+flat and pick up my wife and Geoff.  They would love a run."
+
+"Oh!  Ah!  The flat--yes, the flat!" said David Linton, a little
+wildly.  "I'm afraid--that is, we should be too early.  Mrs. Hunt
+would not expect us so soon, and she--er--she meant to be out, with
+all the children.  Shopping.  Fatted calf for the prodigal's return,
+don't you know.  Awfully sorry."
+
+
+"Oh, it's quite all right," said Major Hunt, looking rather amazed.
+"Only she doesn't generally take them all out.  But of course it
+doesn't matter."
+
+"I'll tell you what," said his host, regaining his composure.  "We'll
+take all of you out to-morrow--Mrs. Hunt and the three youngsters as
+well as yourself.  The car will hold all."
+
+Major Hunt thanked him, rather wearily.  They sped on, leaving the
+outskirts of London behind them.  Up and down long, suburban roads,
+beyond the trail of motor-'buses, until the open country gleamed
+before them.  The soldier took a long breath of the sweet air.
+
+"Gad, it's good to see fields again!" he said.  Presently he glanced
+at the watch on his wrist.
+
+"Nearly time to turn, don't you think?" he said.  "I don't want Stella
+to be waiting long."
+
+"Very soon," said Mr. Linton.  "Just a little more country air.  The
+chauffeur has his orders: I won't keep you much longer."
+
+He racked his brains anxiously for a moment, and then plunged into a
+story of Australia--a story in which bushrangers, blacks and bushfires
+mingled so amazingly that it was impossible not to listen to it.
+Having once secured his hapless guest's attention, he managed to leave
+the agony of invention and to slide gracefully to cattle-mustering,
+about which it was not necessary to invent anything.  Major Hunt
+became interested, and asked a few questions; and they were deep in a
+comparison of the ways of handling cattle on an Australian run and a
+Texan ranch, when the car suddenly turned in at a pair of big iron
+gates and whirled up a drive fringed with trees.  Major Hunt broke off
+in the middle of a sentence.
+
+"Hallo!  Where are we going?"
+
+"I have to stop at a house here for an instant," said Mr. Linton.
+"Just a moment; I won't keep you."
+
+Major Hunt frowned.  He was tired; the car was wonderfully
+comfortable, but the rush through the keen air was wearying to a
+semi-invalid, and he was conscious of a feeling of suppressed
+irritation.  He wanted to be home.  The thought of the hard little
+sofa in the London flat suddenly became tempting--he could lie there
+and talk to the children, and watch Stella moving about.  Now they
+were miles into the country--long miles that must be covered again
+before he was back in Bloomsbury.  He bit his lips to restrain words
+that might not seem courteous.
+
+"I should really be very grateful if----"
+
+He stopped.  The car had turned into a side-avenue--he caught a
+glimpse of a big, many-gabled house away to the right.  Then they
+turned a corner, and the car came to a standstill with her bonnet
+almost poking into a great clump of rhododendrons.  There was a
+thatched cottage beside them.  And round the corner tore a small boy
+in a sailor suit, with his face alight with a very ecstasy of welcome.
+
+"Daddy!  Oh, Daddy!"
+
+"Geoff!" said Major Hunt amazedly.  "But how?--I don't understand."
+
+There were other people coming round the corner: his wife, tall and
+slender, with her eyes shining; behind her, Norah Linton, with Alison
+trotting beside her, and Michael perched on one shoulder.  At sight of
+his father Michael drummed with his heels to Norah's great discomfort,
+and uttered shrill squeaks of joy.
+
+"Come on," said Geoffrey breathlessly, tugging at the door.  "Come on!
+they're all here."
+
+"Come on, Hunt," said David Linton, jumping out.  "Let me help
+you--mind your hand."
+
+"I suppose I'll wake up in a moment," said Major Hunt, getting out
+slowly.  "At present, it's a nice dream.  I don't understand anything.
+How are you, Miss Linton?"
+
+"You don't need to wake up," said his wife, in a voice that shook a
+little.  Her brave eyes were misty.  "Only, you're home."
+
+"It's the loveliest home, Daddy!" Geoff's hand was in his father's,
+pulling him on.
+
+"There's tsickens!" said Alison in a high pipe.  "An' a ackit wiv
+toys."
+
+"She means an attic," said Geoffrey scornfully.  "Come on, Daddy.
+We've got such heaps to show you."
+
+Somehow they found themselves indoors.  Norah and her father had
+disappeared; they were all together, father, mother, and babies, in a
+big room flooded with sunlight: a room covered with a thick red
+matting with heavy rugs on it; a room with big easy-chairs and
+gate-legged tables, and a wide couch heaped with bright cushions,
+drawn close to an open casement.  There was a fire of logs, crackling
+cheerily in the wide fireplace: there were their own
+belongings--photographs, books, his own pipe-rack and tobacco-jar:
+there were flowers everywhere, smiling a greeting.  Tea-cups and
+silver sparkled on a white-cloth; a copper kettle bubbled over a
+spirit-lamp.  And there were his own people clinging round him,
+welcoming, holding him wherever little hands could grasp: the babies
+fresh, clean, even rosy; his wife's face, no longer tired.  And there
+was no Bloomsbury anywhere.
+
+Major Hunt sat down on the sofa, disentangled Michael from his leg,
+and lifted him with his good arm.
+
+"It isn't a dream, really, I suppose, Stella?" he said.  "I won't wake
+up presently?  I don't want to."
+
+"No; it's just a blessed reality," she told him, smiling.  "Hang up
+Daddy's cap, Geoff: steady, Alison, darling--mind his hand.  Don't
+worry about anything, Douglas--only--you're home."
+
+"I don't even want to ask questions," said her husband, in the same
+dazed voice.  "I find one has no curiosity, when one suddenly gets to
+heaven.  We won't be going away from heaven, though, will we?"
+
+"No--we're permanent residents," she told him, laughing.  "Now get
+quite comfy; we'll all have tea together."
+
+"Tea's is lovely here," confided Alison to him.  "They's cweam--an'
+cakes, _evewy_ day.  An' the tsickens make weal eggs, in nesses!"
+
+"And I can ride.  A pony, Daddy!"  Geoffrey's voice was quivering with
+pride.  He stood by the couch, an erect little figure.
+
+"Why, he's grown--ever so much!" said Major Hunt.  "They've all grown;
+you too, my little fat Michael.  I left white-faced babies in that
+beastly flat.  And you too----"  She bent over him.  "Your dear eyes
+have forgotten the old War!" he said, very low.
+
+There was a heavy knock at the door.  Entered Eva, resplendent in a
+butterfly cap and an apron so stiffly starched that it stood away
+resentfully from her figure.  By no stretch of imagination could Eva
+ever have been called shy; but she had a certain amount of awe for her
+master, and found speech in his presence a little difficult.  But on
+this occasion it was evident that she felt that something was demanded
+of her.  She put her burden of buttered toast on a trivet in the
+fender, and said breathlessly:
+
+"'Ope I see yer well, sir.  And _ain't_ this a nice s'prise!"
+
+"Thank you, Eva--yes," said Major Hunt.
+
+Whereat, the handmaiden withdrew, her heavy tread retreating to the
+kitchen to the accompaniment of song.
+
+"Ow--Ow--_Ow_, it's a lovely War!"
+
+"I didn't know her for a moment," Major Hunt said, laughing.  "You
+see, she never had less than six smuts on her face in Bloomsbury.
+She's transformed, like all of you in this wonderful dream."
+
+"Tea isn't a dream," said his wife.  She made it in the silver
+tea-pot, and they all fluttered about him, persuading him to eat: and
+made his tea a matter of some difficulty, since all three children
+insisted on getting as close to him as possible, and he had but one
+good hand.  He did not mind.  Once, as his wife brought him a refilled
+cup, she saw him lean his face down until it rested for a moment on
+the gold rings of Michael's hair.
+
+It was with some anxiety that Norah and her father went to call on
+their guest next morning.
+
+"What will we do if he's stiff-necked and proud, Dad?" Norah asked.
+"I simply couldn't part with those babies now!"
+
+"Let's hope he won't be," said her father.  "But if the worst comes to
+worst, we could let him pay us a little rent for the place--we could
+give the money to the Red Cross, of course."
+
+"'M!" said Norah, wrinkling her nose expressively.  "That would be
+horrid--it would spoil all the idea of the place."
+
+
+But they found Major Hunt surprisingly meek.
+
+"I daresay that if you had propounded the idea to me at first I should
+have said 'No' flatly," he admitted.  "But I haven't the heart to
+disturb them all now--and, frankly, I'm too thankful.  If you'll let
+me pay you rent----"
+
+"Certainly not!" said Mr. Linton, looking astonished and indignant.
+"We don't run our place on those lines.  Just put it out of your head
+that we have anything to do with it.  You're taking nothing from
+us--only from a man who died very cheerfully because he was able to do
+five minutes' work towards helping the War.  He's helping it still if
+his money makes it easier for fellows like you; and I believe,
+wherever he is, he knows and is glad."
+
+"But there are others who may need it more," said Hunt weakly.
+
+"If there are, I haven't met them yet," Mr. Linton responded.  He
+glanced out of the window.  "Look there now, Hunt!"
+
+Norah had slipped away, leaving the men to talk.  Now she came riding
+up the broad gravel path across the lawn, on the black pony: leading
+the fat Welsh pony, with Geoffrey on his back.  The small boy sat very
+straight, with his hands well down.  His flushed little face sought
+anxiously for his father's at the window.
+
+Major Hunt uttered a delighted exclamation.
+
+"I didn't know my urchin was so advanced," he said.  "Well done, old
+son!"  He scanned him keenly.  "He doesn't sit too badly, Mr. Linton."
+
+"He's not likely to do so, with Norah as his teacher.  But Norah says
+he doesn't need much teaching, and that he has naturally good hands.
+She's proud of him.  I think," said Mr. Linton, laughing, "that they
+have visions of hunting together this winter!"
+
+"I must go out and see him," said the father, catching up his cap.
+Mr. Linton watched him cross the lawn with quick strides: and turned,
+to find Mrs. Hunt at his elbow.
+
+"Well--he doesn't look much like an invalid, Madam!" he said, smiling.
+
+"He's not like the same man," she said, with grateful eyes.  "He slept
+well, and ate a huge breakfast: even the hand is less painful.  And
+he's so cheery.  Oh, I'm so thankful to you for kidnapping us!"
+
+"Indeed, it's you that we have to thank," he told her.  "You gave us
+our first chance of beginning our job."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+ASSORTED GUESTS
+
+
+"I beg your pardon--is this Homewood?"
+
+Norah, practising long putts 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 Homewood," she answered.  "Did you--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 close 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 are apt to
+take their time, but I did think a week would have been long enough.
+I wrote directly I knew my leave was coming.  You see--your brother
+told me----"  He stopped awkwardly.
+
+Intelligence suddenly dawned upon Norah.
+
+"Why, you're a Tired Person!" she exclaimed, beaming.
+
+"Not at all, I assure you," replied he, looking a trifle amazed.
+Norah 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."
+
+"Good gracious, no!" said Norah.  "Why, you're a godsend!  We weren't
+justifying our name.  But you _will_ be dull to-day, because Dad has
+gone to London, and there's only me."  Norah's grammar was never her
+strong point.  "And little Geoff 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 Allenby will show you your
+room.  The car will bring your things up when it goes to meet Dad."
+
+Norah 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," Allenby said.  Norah 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 wall-paper, 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 leave-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 that 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 Allenby's offer of a hot tub, presently
+emerged from the house, much improved in appearance.
+
+This time Norah was not alone.  A small boy was with her, who greeted
+the newcomer with coolness, and then suddenly fell upon him excitedly,
+recognizing the badge on his collar.
+
+"You're in Daddy's regiment!" he exclaimed.
+
+"Am I?" Garrett smiled at him.  "Who is Daddy?"
+
+"He's Major Hunt," said Geoff; 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 Norah, laughing.
+She indicated a big rhododendron.  "Is he at home, Geoff?"
+
+"No--he's gone to London," Geoff answered.  "But he'll be back for
+tea."
+
+"Then we'll go and call on Mrs. Hunt and ask her if we may come to
+tea," Norah said.  They strolled off, Geoff capering 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 a commission among the first.  I didn't see such a lot of
+the Major, for he was doing special work in Ireland for awhile; 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," Norah 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 Alison and Michael--with Alison much
+worried by Michael's complete inattention to anything in the shape of
+a rule.  Michael, indeed, declined to be hid, 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 detail.
+
+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, Norah.  I'd ask you to lunch, only I'm
+perfectly certain there isn't enough to eat!  And Geoff would 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 the fearful joy of
+Allenby behind his chair."
+
+"I don't see why you should try to depress me," Norah laughed.  "Well,
+we'll all go 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 billets: 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?" Geoffrey demanded.
+
+"Well, you wouldn't call it perfect, old 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 old 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 Killaloe this afternoon, Geoff," said Norah.  "Come
+on, and we'll show him the stables now."
+
+They bade _au revoir_ to 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, Katty?" Norah asked.
+
+"There's a tallygrum after coming, miss, on a bicycle.  And the boy's
+waiting."
+
+Norah knitted her brows over the sheet of flimsy paper.
+
+"There's no answer, Katty, 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 and Mrs. West.  Isn't
+it exciting!  I'll have to leave you to Geoff while I go and talk to
+the housekeeper.  Geoff, show Captain Garrett all the horses--Jones is
+at the stables."
+
+"Right!" said Geoffrey, bursting with importance.  "Come along,
+Captain Garrett.  I'll let you pat my pony, if you like!"
+
+Mrs. Atkins looked depressed at Norah's information.
+
+"Dear me!  And dinner ordered for three!" she said sourly.  "It makes
+a difference.  And of course I really had not reckoned on more than
+you and Mr. Linton."
+
+"I can telephone for anything you want," said Norah 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," Norah said.
+
+"Oh, I suppose the maids can find time.  Those Irish maids have no
+idea of regular ways: I found Bride helping to catch a fowl this
+morning when she should have been polishing the floor.  Now, I must
+throw them out of routine again."
+
+Norah suppressed a smile.  She had been a spectator of the spirited
+chase after the truant hen, ending with the appearance of Mrs. Atkins,
+full of cold wrath; and she had heard Bride's comment afterwards.  "Is
+it her, with her ould routheen?  Yerra, that one wouldn't put a hand
+to a hin, and it eshcapin'!"
+
+"Yes," said Mrs. Atkins.  "Extraordinary ways.  Very untrained, I must
+say."
+
+"But you find that they do their work, don't they?" Norah asked.
+
+"Oh, after a fashion," said the housekeeper, with a sniff--unwilling
+to admit that Bride and Katty got through more work in two hours than
+Sarah in a morning, were never unwilling, and accepted any and every
+job with the utmost cheerfulness.  "Their ways aren't my ways.  Very
+well, Miss Linton.  I'll speak to the cook."
+
+Feeling somewhat battered, Norah escaped.  In the hall she met Katty,
+who jumped--and then broke into a smile of relief.
+
+"I thought 'twas the Ould Thing hersilf," she explained.  "She'd ate
+the face off me if she found me here again--'tis only yesterday she
+was explaining to me that a kitchenmaid has no business in the hall,
+at all.  But Bridie was tellin' me ye've the grandest ould head of an
+Irish elk here, and I thought I'd risk her, to get a sight of it."
+
+"It's over there," Norah said, pointing to a mighty pair of horns on
+the wall behind the girl.  Katty looked at it in silence.
+
+"It's quare to think of the days when them great things walked the
+plains of Ireland," she said at length.  "Thank you, miss: it done me
+good to see it."
+
+"How are you getting on, Katty?" Norah asked.
+
+"Yerra, the best in the world," said Katty cheerfully.  "Miss de
+Lisle's that kind to me--I'll be the great cook some day, if I kape on
+watchin' her.  She's not like the fine English cooks I've heard of,
+that 'ud no more let you see how they made so much as a pudding than
+they'd fly over the moon.  'Tis Bridie has the bad luck, to be
+housemaid."
+
+Norah knew why, and sighed.  There were moments when her housekeeper
+seemed a burden too great to be borne.
+
+"But Mr. Allenby's very pleasant with her, and she says wance 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 bedmaking," said Katty,
+with a joyous twinkle.  "'Tis herself had great courage to do that
+same, hadn't she, now, miss?"
+
+"She had, indeed," Norah said, laughing.  The spectacle of the stiff
+Sarah, overwhelmed with a sudden pillow, was indeed staggering.
+
+"And then, haven't we Con to cheer us up if we get lonely?" said
+Katty.  "And Misther Jones and the groom--they're very friendly.  And
+the money we'll have to send home!  But you'd be wishful for Ireland,
+no matter how happy you'd be."
+
+The telephone bell rang sharply, and Norah ran to answer it.  It was
+Jim.
+
+"That you, Nor?" said his deep voice.  "Good--I'm in a hurry.  I say,
+can you take in a Tired Person to-night?"
+
+Norah 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 Norah, like thousands of other people, murmured
+her opinion of the telephone and all its works.
+
+"Are you there?" she asked.
+
+"B-z-z-z-z-z!" said the telephone.
+
+Norah waited a little, anxiously debating whether it would be more
+prudent to ring up herself and demand the last speaker, or to keep
+quiet and trust to Jim to regain his connexion.  Finally, she decided
+to ring: 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 bored voice.
+
+"Some one was speaking to me--you've cut me off," said Norah
+frantically.
+
+"I've been trying to get you for the last ten minutes.  You shouldn't
+have rung off," said the voice coldly.  "Wait, please."
+
+Norah swallowed her feelings and waited.
+
+"Hallo!  Hallo!  Hallo!--oh, _is_ that you, Norah?" 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 Hardress?  He'll get
+to you by the 6.45.  Are you all well?  Yes, we're all right.  Sorry,
+I'll get told off horribly if I'm late.  Good-bye."
+
+Norah 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.  Norah wished she
+knew a little more about her new "case"; if he were very weak--if
+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.
+Norah 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," said Norah 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 Norah.  "Con can take a message for anything
+you want; he is going to the station."
+
+"Thank you, miss, I have already telephoned for larger supplies," said
+the housekeeper.  The conversation seemed to have ended, so Norah
+departed.
+
+"What did she ever come for?" she asked herself desperately.  "If she
+didn't want to housekeep, why does she go out as a housekeeper?"
+Turning a corner she met the butler.
+
+"Oh, Allenby," she said.  "We'll have quite a houseful to-night!"  She
+told him of the expected arrivals, half expecting to see his face
+fall.  Allenby, 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 Norah's anxious face.  "All the arrangements
+made, I suppose, miss?"
+
+"Oh, yes, I think they're all right," said Norah, feeling anything but
+confident.  "Allenby--I don't know much about managing things; do you
+think it's too much for the house?"
+
+"No, miss, it isn't," Allenby said firmly.  "Just you leave it all to
+me, and don't worry.  Nature made some people bad-tempered, and they
+can't 'elp it.  I'll see that things are all right; and as for dinner,
+all that worries Miss de Lisle, 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.  Norah 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 Norah 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 hall door opened, letting in a breath of the cold night air.
+
+"Ah, Norah--this is my daughter, Mrs. West," she heard her father's
+voice; and then she was greeting a stout lady and a grey-haired
+officer.
+
+"Dear me!" said the lady.  "I expected some one 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 Norah caught a glimpse of her father's face, set in
+grim lines.  She checked a sudden wild desire to laugh, and murmured
+something civil.
+
+"Our hostess, Algernon," said the stout lady, and Norah shook hands
+with Colonel West, who was short and stout and pompous, and said
+explosively, "Haw!  Delighted!  Cold night, what?"--which had the
+effect of making his hostess absolutely speechless.  Somehow with the
+assistance of Allenby and Sarah, the newcomers were "drafted" to their
+rooms, and Norah and her father sought cover in the morning-room.
+
+"You look worn, Daddy," said his daughter, regarding him critically.
+
+"I feel it," said David Linton.  He sank into an armchair and felt
+hurriedly for his pipe.  "Haven't had a chance of a smoke for hours.
+They're a little trying, I think, Norah."
+
+"Where did you get them?" Norah asked, perching on the arm of his
+chair, and dropping a kiss on the top of his head.
+
+"From the hospital where the boys were.  Colonel West has been ill
+there.  Brain-fever, Mrs. West says, but he doesn't look like it.
+Anyhow, they're hard up, I believe; their home is broken up and they
+have five or six children at school, and a boy in Gallipoli.  They
+seemed very glad to come."
+
+"Well, that's all right," said Norah practically.  "We can't expect to
+have every one as nice as the Hunts.  But they're not the only ones,
+Dad: Captain Garrett is here, and Jim is sending some one called
+Hardress by the 6.45--unfortunately the telephone didn't allow Jim to
+mention what he is!  I hope he isn't a brigadier."
+
+"I don't see Jim hob-nobbing to any extent with brigadiers," said her
+father.  "I say, this is rather a shock.  Four in a day!"
+
+"Yes, business is looking up," said Norah, laughing.  "Captain Garrett
+is a dear--and he can ride, Dad.  I had him out on Killaloe.  I'm a
+little uneasy about the Hardress person, because he's just out of a
+convalescent home, and Jim seemed worried about him.  But the
+telephone went mad, and Jim was in a hurry, so I didn't get any
+details."
+
+"Oh, well, we'll look after him.  How is the household staff standing
+the invasion?"
+
+"Every one's very happy except Mrs. Atkins, and she is plunged in woe.
+Even Sarah seems interested.  I haven't dared to look at Miss de
+Lisle, but Allenby says she is cheerful."
+
+"Has Mrs. Atkins been unpleasant?"
+
+"Well," said Norah, and laughed, "you wouldn't call her exactly a
+bright spot in the house.  But she has seen to things, so that is all
+that counts."
+
+"I won't have that woman worry you," said Mr. Linton firmly.
+
+"I won't have _you_ worried about anything," said Norah.  "Don't think
+about Mrs. Atkins, or you won't enjoy your tea.  And here's Allenby."
+
+"Tea!" said Mr. Linton, as the butler entered, bearing a little tray.
+"I thought I was too late for such a luxury--but I must say I'm glad
+of it."
+
+"I sent some upstairs, sir," said Allenby, placing a little table near
+his master.  "Just a little toast, sir, it being so late.  And if you
+please, miss, Miss de Lisle would be glad if you could spare a moment
+in the kitchen."
+
+The cook-lady, redder than ever, was mixing a mysterious compound in a
+bowl.  Katty, hugely important, darted hither and thither.  A variety
+of savoury smells filled the air.
+
+"I just wanted to tell you," said Miss de Lisle confidentially, "that
+I'm making a special _souffle_ of my own, and Allenby will put it in
+front of you.  Promise me"--she leaned forward earnestly--"to use a
+thin spoon to help it, and slide it in edgeways as gently as--as if
+you were stroking a baby!  It's just a _perfect_ thing--I wouldn't
+sleep to-night if you used a heavy spoon and plunged it in as if it
+was a suet-pudding!"
+
+"I won't forget," Norah promised her, resisting a wild desire to
+laugh.
+
+"That's a dear," said the cook-lady, disregarding the relations of
+employer and employed, in the heat of professional enthusiasm.  "And
+you'll help it as quickly as possible, won't you?  It will be put on
+the table after all the other sweets.  Every second will be of
+importance!"  She sighed.  "A _souffle_ never gets a fair chance.  It
+ought, of course, to be put on a table beside the kitchen-range, and
+cut within two seconds of leaving the oven.  With a _hot_ spoon!"  She
+sighed tragically.
+
+"We'll do our best for it," Norah promised her.  "I'm sure it will be
+lovely.  Shall I come and tell you how it looked, afterwards?"
+
+Miss de Lisle beamed.
+
+"Now, that would be very kind of you," she said.  "It's so seldom that
+any one 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 cut very nice, ma'am, I'm sure.  Very nice!'"  She made a
+despairing gesture.  "But some people would call Chopin 'very nice'!"
+
+"Miss de Lisle," said Norah earnestly, "some day when we haven't any
+guests and Dad goes to London, we'll give every one 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 Miss de Lisle had no words.
+
+"Well!" she said at length explosively.  "And I was so horrible to you
+at first!"  To Norah's amazement and dismay a large tear trickled down
+one cheek, and her 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!"
+
+Norah 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," said Miss de Lisle, beating 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!"
+
+Norah looked embarrassed.
+
+"Jim says I've no soul beyond mustering cattle," she said, laughing.
+"We'll prove him wrong, some day, Miss de Lisle, shall we?  Now I must
+go: the motor will be back presently."  She turned, suddenly conscious
+of a baleful glance.
+
+"Oh!--Mrs. Atkins!" she said feebly.
+
+"I came," said Mrs. Atkins stonily, "to see if any help was needed in
+the kitchen.  Perhaps, as you are here, miss, you would be so good as
+to ask the cook?"
+
+"Oh--nothing, thank you," said Miss de Lisle airily, over her
+shoulder.  Mrs. Atkins sniffed, and withdrew.
+
+"That's done it, hasn't it?" said the cook-lady.  "Well, don't worry,
+my dear; I'll see you through anything."
+
+A white-capped head peeped in.
+
+"'Tis yersilf has all the luck of the place, Katty O'Gorman!" said
+Bride enviously.  "An' 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 de Lisle?
+God help us, there's Miss Norah!"
+
+"If 'tis the way you'd but let her baste the turkey for a minyit,
+she'd go upstairs reshted in hersilf," said Katty in a loud whisper.
+"The creature's destroyed with bein' out of all the fun."
+
+"Oh, come in--if you're not afraid of Mrs. Atkins," said Miss de
+Lisle.  Norah had a vision of Bride, ecstatically grasping a
+basting-ladle, as she made her own escape.
+
+Allenby was just shutting the hall-door as she turned the corner.  A
+tall man in a big military greatcoat was shaking hands with her
+father.
+
+"Here's Captain Hardress, Norah."
+
+Norah found herself looking up into a face that at the 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 Norah 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 any one except doctors and nurses."  His face, that
+lit up so completely when he smiled, relapsed into gloom.
+
+"Well, you mustn't stand here," Norah said.  "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 the gaunt, sad face.
+
+Hardress hesitated.
+
+"I think you'd better stay upstairs," said David Linton.  "Just for
+to-night--till you feel rested.  I'll come and smoke 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.  "Allenby will show you the
+way.  See that Captain Hardress has a good fire, Allenby--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 Norah.  "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 Norah'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 moulting its sequins for all the world
+like an old hen; but Norah 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 any
+one 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
+war-time!  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--ha, ha!"
+
+Norah 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 lead.  So unlike
+dear, quiet little England.  Bushrangers, and savage natives, and
+gold-mining.  How I should like to see it all!"
+
+"Oh, you would find other attractions as well, Mrs. West," Mr. Linton
+told her.  "The 'wild life in savage places' phase of Australian
+history is rather a back number."
+
+"Oh, quite--quite," agreed his guest.  "We stay-at-homes know so
+little of the other side of the world.  But we are not aloof--not
+uninterested.  We recognize 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 lady
+sailed on, unheeding.
+
+"Yes.  The voice of the native-born.  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 under their great
+slouch-hats.  Outposts of 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 hearthrug 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 to-night in----"
+
+"In dear little Surrey," said Garrett innocently.
+
+"Quite.  Such a peaceful county--war seems 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's 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
+homes.  '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."
+
+"Takes some encouragin', the subaltern of the present day, unless it's
+to tennis and two-step," said Colonel West.
+
+"But such dear boys!  I felt their mothers would have been so glad.
+And our regiment had quite a name for nice subalterns.  There is
+something so delightful about a subaltern--so care-free."
+
+"By Jove, yes!" said Colonel West.  "Doesn't care for anything on
+earth--not even the adjutant!"
+
+"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 Norah's first experience as hostess at her father's
+dinner-table--since, in this connexion, 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, with
+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 Miss de Lisle's appeared to him to deserve the
+compliment of silence, and he ate in an abstraction that left Garrett
+free to talk to Norah; while Mrs. West overwhelmed Mr. Linton with a
+steady flow of eloquence that began with the soup and lasted until
+dessert.  Then Norah and Mrs. West withdrew leaving the men to smoke.
+
+"My dear, your cook's a poem," said 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," Norah 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----"
+
+Norah 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 Allenby to stand the spoon in a jug 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 he 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," Norah laughed.  "It was just all I could do to
+hold it.  But the _souffle was_ worth it, wasn't it?  I must tell Miss
+de Lisle."
+
+"Miss de Lisle?  Your cook?"
+
+"Yes--it sounds well, doesn't it?" said Norah.  "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
+half-starve 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 Norah 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 twelve 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?" Norah 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," Norah said,
+wide-eyed.  "You see, it's home."
+
+"And England has not made you care any less for it?"
+
+"Goodness, no!" Norah said warmly.  "It's all very well in its way,
+but it simply can't hold a candle to Australia!"
+
+"But why?"
+
+Norah 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 Norah, 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 the jolly country life----"
+
+"But English country life is jolly."
+
+"I think we'd get tired of it," said Norah.  "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 a fence is all right, or to bring home the mail.
+Every one 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 men 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 unmelodious accompaniments.  The cheery songs floated
+out into the hall, where Bride and Katty crouched behind a screen,
+torn between delight and nervousness.
+
+"If the Ould Thing was to come she'd have the hair torn off of us,"
+breathed Katty.  "But 'tis worth the rishk.  Blessed Hour, haven't he
+the lovely voice?"
+
+"He have--but I'd rather listen to Miss Norah," said Bride loyally.
+"'Tisn't the big voice she do be having, but it's that
+happy-sounding."
+
+It was after ten o'clock when Norah, having said good-night to her
+guests and shown Mrs. West to her room, went softly along the
+corridor.  A light showed under Miss de Lisle's doorway, and she
+tapped gently.
+
+The door opened, revealing the cook-lady's comfortable little
+sitting-room, with a fire burning merrily in the grate.  The cook-lady
+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 a trivet by
+the grate.  There was a tray on a little table, bearing cups and
+saucers and a spongecake.  Norah 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, Miss de Lisle.  I
+never saw anything like it.  Mrs. West raved about it after dinner."
+
+"I am glad," said the cook-lady, with the rapt expression of a
+high-priestess.  "Allenby told me how you arranged for a hot spoon.
+It was beautiful of you: beautiful!"
+
+"Did he tell you how hot it was?" Norah inquired.  They grew merry
+over the story, and the spongecake dwindled simultaneously with the
+cocoa in the jug.
+
+"I must go," Norah said at last.  "It's been so nice: thank you ever
+so, Miss de Lisle."
+
+"It's I who should thank you for staying," said the big woman, rising.
+"Will you come again, some time?"
+
+"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.  Norah knocked.
+
+"Come in," said Mr. Linton.  "You, you bad child!  I thought you were
+in bed long ago."
+
+"I'm going now," Norah said.  "How did things go off, Daddy?"
+
+"Quite well," he said.  "And my daughter made a good hostess.  I think
+they all enjoyed themselves, Norah."
+
+"I think so," said she.  "They seemed happy enough.  What about
+Captain Hardress, Dad?"
+
+"He seemed comfortable," Mr. Linton answered.  "I found him on a
+couch, with a rug over him, reading.  Allenby said he ate a fair
+dinner.  He's a nice fellow, Norah; I like him."
+
+"Was he badly wounded, Dad?"
+
+"He didn't say much about himself.  I gathered that he had been a long
+while in hospital.  But I'm sorry for him, Norah; he seems very down
+on his luck."
+
+"Jim said so," remarked Norah.  "Well, we must try to buck him up.  I
+suppose Allenby 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 'ope, sir, I know my duty to a wounded officer.'
+I believe I found myself apologizing.  There are times when Allenby
+quite fails to hide 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, Norah."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+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 Allenby grinning
+behind it."
+
+"You stay in bed to breakfast here, or get up, just as you feel
+inclined," 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 I
+don'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 broken
+when 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 things
+that aren't 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?"
+
+Hardress flushed darkly.
+
+"Afraid I can't ride."
+
+"Oh--I'm sorry," said Norah, looking at him in astonishment.  This
+lean, active-looking fellow with the nervous hands certainly looked as
+though he should be able to ride.  Indeed, there were no men in
+Norah'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.  "I
+can'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--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 shop-made
+article.  I was afraid it was evident enough."
+
+"Indeed it isn't," Norah assured him.  "I knew you limped a
+little--but it wasn't very noticeable."
+
+"It's supposed to be a special one," Hardress 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 maker swears I'll be able to dance with
+it: he's a hopeful soul.  I'm not."
+
+"You ought to try to be," Norah 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," Hardress
+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."
+
+Norah went white.
+
+"Near the hip!"  Her voice shook.  "Oh, it couldn't be--you're so big
+and strong!"
+
+Hardress 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,
+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 her
+wits: she remembered that this maimed lad with the set face was there
+to be helped, and that it was part of her job to do it.  Her very soul
+was wrung 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 practise using it in all sorts of ways, and seeing just what you
+can do with it.  And, Captain Hardress, I know they do wonders now
+with artificial legs: Dad knew of a man who played tennis with his--as
+bad 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 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 course 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 Norah thoughtfully.  "But of course
+you'll play polo again.  Some one 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 Norah.  "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 is
+always the 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 Norah.  "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?"
+
+"Oh, no!" said Hardress, laughing for the first time.  "It's an
+awfully docile leg!"
+
+"Then, can you drive?  There's the motor, and a roomy tub-cart, and
+the 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't
+mind my risking his car?"
+
+"Dad would laugh at such a foolish question," said Norah.  "We'll go
+and see Con 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," Norah 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
+to?"
+
+"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 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," Norah said.  "Why not practise on him?
+He stands like a rock.  I won't stay and look at you, but Con
+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!"
+
+Norah laughed.
+
+"We're all horse-mad," she said.  "If I were--like you, I know that to
+ride would be the thing that would help me most.  So you have just got
+to."  They had arrived at the stables, where 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."
+
+"'Tis as many as I have meself," returned Con cheerfully.  "And I'm
+not that bad a driver, am I, Miss Norah?"
+
+"You're not," Norah 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 Brecon."
+
+She smiled at Hardress, and ran off, looking back just before the
+shrubberies hid 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 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 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 Yorke, 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--Norah," he said with relief.  "I've been looking for you.  Here's
+a 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.  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 any
+one in London, nor do they.  His one idea seems to be to see us.  What
+are we to do, Norah?  Can we have them here?"
+
+"Why we _must_ have them," Norah 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
+Norah.  "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."
+
+"'Tis 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 Norah.  "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 Norah, 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 Norah 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," Norah 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 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'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?"
+
+Norah 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, 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, marvelling
+at her own courage.  "You will 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 the cook can----"
+
+"Be quiet, woman!" said a voice of thunder.  Norah, who had shrunk
+back before the angry housekeeper, felt a throb of relief as Allenby
+strode into the room.  At the 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 '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't
+frighten you."
+
+"Oh, no--only she was rather horrible," said Norah.  "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 'ere, miss."  He opened a cupboard, disclosing
+rows of empty bottles.  "I found these 'ere 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, 'owever she managed it."
+
+There came a tap at the door, and 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," Norah said.  "And she didn't hurt me--she
+was only unpleasant.  But I think we had better keep her out of Miss
+de 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 write
+her cheque at once, and Con 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 Norah, looking unhappy.  "Whatever
+will you do, my girl?--and this houseful of people!  I'd better
+telephone 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 vegetables
+diligently, referred Norah 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 de Lisle," Norah 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."
+Norah 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 de Lisle, 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?" Norah 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, Katty is a
+treasure.  I back down in all I ever thought about Irish maids," 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 Katty 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 Norah.  "I'd like to hug you!"
+
+"I wish you would," said Miss de Lisle, 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 patronize me, and
+you didn't snub 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 de Lisle--"you've no idea how at home with you all I've
+felt since Allenby fell over me in the passage!"
+
+"We loved you from that minute," said Norah, 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 de Lisle.
+"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!" Norah 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 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 brushed
+her cheek.
+
+"Dear me!" she murmured.  "Well, it's fifteen years since any one did
+_that_."  Still smiling, she picked up the knitting.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+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.  Norah
+and Captain Hardress, who had been knocking golf-balls about, were
+crossing the terrace on their way to tea when the three slouched hats
+caught Norah's eye through the trees of the avenue.  She gasped,
+dropped her clubs, and fled to meet them.  Hardress stared: then,
+perceiving 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 a
+bend in the drive.  Then one of them sprang forward.
+
+"Harry!" said Norah.
+
+"My word, I am glad to see you!" said Harry Trevor, pumping her hand.
+"I say, Norah, 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 bald and fat?" Norah laughed.  "Oh, Harry,
+we are glad to see you!"
+
+"Well, you might have aged a little," said he.  "Goodness knows _I_
+have!  Norah, where's old Jim?"
+
+"He's at Aldershot--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 beech-tree.
+"Come here, you chaps; Norah, this is Jack Blake--and Dick Harrison.
+They're awfully glad to see you, too!"
+
+"Well, you might have let us say it for ourselves, digger," said the
+two, shaking hands.  "We were just going to."
+
+"It's lovely to have you all," said Norah.  She looked over the
+tree--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 wandering in that funny old London like lost sheep," Blake
+said.  "My word, that's a lonesome place, if you don't happen to know
+any one in it.  And people look at you as if you were something out of
+a Zoo."
+
+"They're not used to you yet," said Norah.  "It's the hat, as much as
+anything."
+
+"I 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," Norah answered.  "But come
+on to the house.  Dad is just as anxious to see you as any one."
+
+Indeed, as they came in sight 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 Norah won't hear of it," said Mr. Linton,
+laughing.  "She bullies me more hopelessly than ever, Harry."
+
+"She always did," Trevor agreed.  "Oh, I want to talk about Billabong
+for an hour!  How's Brownie, Nor? and Murty O'Toole? and Black Billy?
+How do you manage to live away from them?"
+
+"It isn't easy," Norah 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 all grow light-headed."
+
+"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 cattle there last year.
+Over the Haunted Hills--aren't they jolly in the spring!--and down
+through the scrub to Morwell and Traralgon.  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 hall,
+where tea was in progress.
+
+"Your father simply made me promise to go on without you," said Mrs.
+West, as Norah 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 and lance-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 worry," said Norah, 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.  Norah 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 limb 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 in Piccadilly in no time," said
+Norah.
+
+"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 Brecon?"
+
+"No!  How did you get on?" asked Norah 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 any steed but
+Brecon 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 Brecon," Norah smiled.  "What happened
+then?"
+
+"Oh--I got used to myself, and found out the knack of getting on.
+It's not hard, with a steady horse, once you find out how.  But I
+think Brecon will do me very well for awhile."
+
+"Oh, we'll soon get you on to Brunette," Norah said.  "You'd enjoy
+her."
+
+"Is that the black pony?"
+
+"Yes--and she's a lovely hack.  I'm going to hunt her in the winter:
+she jumps like a deer."
+
+"She looked a 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," Norah 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 crept
+into his eyes.  "Listen--aren't your friends having a time!"
+
+"Life must be so exciting on your great cattle ranches," Mrs. West was
+saying.  "And the dear little woolly lambs on the farms--such pets!"
+
+"We understood you people over here prefer them frozen," Blake said
+gently.  "So we send 'em that way."
+
+Norah 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?  Is it
+something you wear?"  Norah 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--Hawkins', isn't it?  But I suppose
+you don't take much interest in that sort of thing?  Dances and frocks
+more in your line--and chocolates, eh, what?"
+
+"Then you've changed her in England," said Harry Trevor suddenly.  "Is
+it dances now, Norah?  No more quick things over the grass after a
+cross-grained bullock?  Don't say you've forgotten how to use a
+stockwhip!"
+
+"It's hung up at Billabong," Norah 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 longed 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.
+
+
+"Your 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 are oh!
+so interested."
+
+"What a life!" said Dick Harrison, under his breath.
+
+"Quite.  You know, I had a great friend who went out as A.D.C. to one
+of your Governors.  He had to return after a month, because his father
+died and he came into the baronetcy, 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 vaguely.  "But a lot of us just wanted a look
+in at the fun!"
+
+"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 Boche made it one according
+to his own ideas--and everybody knows what they are."
+
+"Yes," said Hardress.  "I suppose the Boche 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 flame-throwers."
+
+"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 men 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.
+
+"Some one'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.
+
+"Dad!  Norah!  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?  Finished 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 us bears," 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!"
+
+"However did you manage to come?" Norah asked, beaming.
+
+"Oh, we got leave.  We've been good boys--at least, Wally was until we
+got your message this morning.  Since then he has been wandering about
+like a lost fowl, murmuring, 'Harry!  _My_ Harry!'"
+
+"Is it me?" returned Wally.  "Don't believe him, Nor--it was all I
+could do to keep him from slapping the C.O. on the back and borrowing
+his car to come over."
+
+"I don't doubt it," Norah 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 knickerbockers.  And look at you
+now!"
+
+"Well, you were much the same," Wally retorted.  "And now you're a
+hardened 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
+that 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 had been 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--old days at
+school; hard-fought battles on the Melbourne Cricket Ground;
+boat-racing on the Yarra; Billabong and other stations; bush-fires 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 care-free 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.
+
+Norah slipped away, regretfully enough, after a time: her
+responsibilities as housekeeper weighed upon her, and she sought Miss
+de Lisle 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," Norah said.  "I've told Bride to put sheets on the beds."
+
+"Then 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 do."
+
+"Mrs. Atkins had destroyed my nerve!" said Norah, 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 knees were shaking!"
+
+"Then you're a very bad child, if you _are_ my employer!" returned
+Miss de Lisle.  "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 to send them splendid
+hampers."
+
+"That will be a tremendous comfort," Norah said.  "You're a brick,
+Miss de Lisle.  We used to send them 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 Miss de Lisle.  "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," Norah said.  "I never tasted better, even in
+Ireland."  At which Katty, who had just entered with a saucepan,
+blushed hotly, and cast an ecstatic glance at Miss de Lisle.
+
+"I don't suppose you did," remarked that lady.  "You see, Katty made
+them."
+
+"Wasn't she good, now, to let me, Miss Norah?" Katty asked.  "There's
+them at home that towld me I'd get no chance at all of learning under
+a grand cook here.  'Tis little the likes of them 'ud 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 Sivin Divils.  'Isn't the scullery
+good enough for you?' they'd say.  'Cock you up with the cooking!'
+But Miss de Lisle isn't one of them--and the cakes to go up to the
+drawing-room itself!"
+
+"Well, every one liked them, Katty," Norah said.
+
+"Yerra, hadn't I Bridie watching behind the big screen with the crack
+in it?" said the handmaid.  "She come back to me, and she says,
+'They're all ate,' says she: ''tis the way ye had not enough made,'
+she says.  I didn't know if 'twas on me head or me heels I was!"  She
+bent a look of adoration upon Miss de Lisle, who laughed.
+
+"Oh, I'll make a cook of you yet, Katty," 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," Norah 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 an early breakfast," said Miss de
+Lisle.  "Now don't worry about anything."
+
+Norah 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.  Bride, encountered in her evening tour with cans of hot water,
+reported that 'twas lying down she was, and not wishful for talk: her
+resht was more to her.
+
+"Then I may as well go and dress," Norah said.
+
+She had just finished when a quick step came along the corridor, and
+stopped at her door.  Jim's fingers beat the tattoo that was always
+their signal.
+
+"Come in, Jimmy," Norah 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 Norah, beaming.  "Come and sit down in my armchair.
+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 Norah subsided on the rug near him.
+
+"Now tell me all about everything," he said.  "How are things going?"
+
+"Quite well--especially Mrs. Atkins," said Norah.  "In fact she's
+gone!"
+
+Jim sat up.
+
+"Gone!  But how?"
+
+Norah 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 bother to you than she was worth."
+
+"Oh, I feel twenty years younger since she went!" Norah said.  "And
+it's going to be great fun to housekeep with Miss de Lisle.  I shall
+learn ever so much."
+
+"So will 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," Norah said.  "But she would 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 its 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 fellows: but I'd 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, Nor,
+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 Norah.  "We'll have to
+look after you and give you nourishment at short intervals."
+
+"We'll take that, if it's Miss de Lisle'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 had 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."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+CHEERO!
+
+
+It was ten days later that the summons to France came--ten days during
+which the boys had managed to make several meteoric dashes over to
+Homewood for the night, and had accomplished one blissful week-end,
+during which, with the aid of their fellow-countrymen, they had
+brought the household to the verge of exhaustion from laughter.
+Nothing could damp their spirits: they rode and danced, sang and
+joked, and, apparently, having no cares in the world themselves, were
+determined that no one else should have any.  The Hunt family were
+drawn into the fun: the kitchen was frequently invaded, and Miss de
+Lisle declared that even her sitting-room was not sacred--and was
+privately very delighted that it was not.  Allenby began to develop a
+regrettable lack of control over his once stolid features; Sarah
+herself was observed to stuff her apron into her mouth and rush from
+the dining-room on more than one occasion.  And under cover of his
+most energetic fooling Jim Linton watched his father and sister, and
+fooled the more happily whenever he made them laugh.
+
+They arrived together unexpectedly on this last evening, preferring to
+bring their news rather than give it by telephone; and found, instead
+of the usual cheery tea-party in the hall, only silence and emptiness.
+Allenby, appearing, broke into a broad smile of pleasure as he greeted
+them.
+
+"Every one's out, Mr. Jim."
+
+"So it seems," Jim answered.  "Where are they?"
+
+"Not very far, sir," Allenby said.  "Mrs. 'Unt has them all to tea
+with her to-day."
+
+"Oh, we'll go over, Wal," Jim said.  "Come and make yourself pretty:
+you've a splash of mud on your downy cheek."  At the foot of the
+stairs he turned.  "We're off to-morrow, Allenby."
+
+Allenby's face fell.
+
+"To France, sir?"
+
+Jim nodded.
+
+"The master and Miss Norah will be very sorry, sir.  If I may say so,
+the 'ole 'ousehold will be sorry."
+
+"Thanks, Allenby.  We'll miss you all," Jim said pleasantly.  He
+sprang upstairs after Wally.
+
+Mrs. Hunt's sitting-room was already dangerously crowded--there seemed
+no room at all for the two tall lads for whom Eva opened the door ten
+minutes later.  A chorus of welcome greeted them, nevertheless.
+
+"This is delightful," said Mrs. Hunt.  "I'm sure I don't know how
+you're going to fit in, but you must manage it somehow.  If necessary
+we'll all stand up and re-pack ourselves, but I warn you it is risky:
+the walls may not stand it!"
+
+"Oh, don't trouble, Mrs. Hunt," Jim said.  "We're quite all right."
+Both boys' eyes had sought Norah as they entered: and Norah, meeting
+the glance, felt a sudden pang at her heart, and knew.
+
+"My chair is ever so much too big for me," she said.  "You can each
+have an arm."
+
+"Good idea!" said Wally, perching on the broad arm of the easy-chair
+that swallowed her up.  "Come along, Jim, or we'll be lop-sided!"
+
+"We put Norah in the biggest chair in the room, and everybody is
+treating her with profound respect," Mrs. Hunt said.  "This is the
+first day for quite a while that she hasn't been hostess, so we made
+her chief guest, and she is having a rest-cure."
+
+"If you treat Norah with respect it won't have at all a restful effect
+on her," said Wally.  "I've tried."  To which Norah inquired, "When?"
+in a voice of such amazement that every one laughed.
+
+"Misunderstood as usual," said Wally pathetically.  "It really doesn't
+pay to be like me and have a meek spirit: people only think you are a
+worm, and trample on you.  Come here, Geoff, and take care of me:" and
+Geoffrey, who adored him, came.  "Have you been riding old Brecon
+lately?"
+
+"'M!" said Geoffrey, nodding.  "I can canter now!"
+
+"Good man!  Any tosses?"
+
+"Well, just one," Geoffrey admitted.  "He cantered before I had gotted
+ready, and I fell off.  But it didn't hurt."
+
+"That's right.  You practise always falling on a soft spot, and you
+need never worry."
+
+"But I'd rather practise sticking on," said Geoffrey.  "It's nicer."
+
+"You might practise both," said Wally.  "You'll have plenty of both,
+you know."  He laughed at the puzzled face.  "Never mind, old chap.
+How are the others, and why aren't they here?"
+
+"They're too little," Geoffrey said loftily.  "Small childrens don't
+come in to tea, at least not when there's parties.  I came, 'cause
+Mother says I'm getting 'normous."
+
+"So you are.  Are the others quite well?"
+
+"Oh yes," Geoffrey answered, clearly regarding the question as
+foolish.  "They're all right.  Alison's got a puppy, and Michael's
+been eating plate-powder.  His mouf was all pink."
+
+"What's that about my Michael," demanded Mrs. Hunt.  "Oh yes--we found
+him making a hearty meal of plate-powder this morning.  Douglas says
+it should make him very bright.  I'm thankful to say it doesn't seem
+to be going to kill him."
+
+"Michael never will realize that there is a war on," said Major Hunt,
+aggrieved.  "I found him gnawing the strap of one of my gaiters the
+other day."
+
+"You shouldn't underfeed the poor kid," said Wally.  "It's clear that
+he's finding his nourishment when and how he can.  Isn't there a
+Society for dealing with people like you?"
+
+"There is," said Jim solemnly.  "It's called the Police Force."
+
+"You're two horrible boys!" said their hostess, laughing.  "And my
+lovely fat Michael!--he's getting so corpulent he can hardly waddle.
+He and the puppy are really very like each other; both of them find it
+easier to roll than to run."  She cast an inquiring eye round the
+room: "Some more tea, Norah?"
+
+"No, thank you, Mrs. Hunt."  Norah's voice sounded strange in her own
+ears.  She wanted to get away from the room, and the light-hearted
+chatter . . . to make sure, though she was sure already.  The guns of
+France seemed to sound very near her.
+
+The party broke up after a while.  Jim and Wally lingered behind the
+others.
+
+"Will you and the Major come over this evening, Mrs. Hunt?  We're off
+to-morrow."
+
+"Oh--I'm sorry."  Mrs. Hunt's face fell.  "Poor Norah!"
+
+"Norah will keep smiling," said Jim.  "But I'm jolly glad you're so
+near her, Mrs. Hunt.  You'll keep an eye on them, won't you?  I'd be
+awfully obliged if you would."
+
+"You may be very sure I will," she said.  "And there will be a
+tremendous welcome whenever you get leave."
+
+"We won't lose any time in coming for it," Jim said.  "Blighty means
+more than ever it did, now that we've got a real home.  Then you'll
+come to-night?"
+
+"Of course we will."  She watched them stride off into the shrubbery,
+and choked back a sigh.
+
+Norah came back to them through the trees.
+
+"It's marching orders, isn't it?"
+
+"Yes, it's marching orders, old kiddie," Jim answered.  They looked at
+each other steadily: and then Norah's eyes met Wally's.
+
+"When?" she asked.
+
+"To-morrow morning."
+
+"Well----" said Norah; and drew a long breath.  "And I haven't your
+last week's socks darned!  That comes of having too many
+responsibilities.  Any buttons to be sewn on for either of you?"
+
+"No, thanks," they told her, greatly relieved.  She tucked a hand into
+an arm of each boy, and they went towards the house.  David Linton
+came out hurriedly to meet them.
+
+"Allenby says----" he began.  He did not need to go further.
+
+"We were trotting in to tell you," said Jim.
+
+"We'll be just in time to give the Boche a cheery Christmas," said
+Wally.  "Norah, are you going to send us a Christmas hamper?  With a
+pudding?"
+
+"Rather!" Norah answered.  "And I'll put a lucky pig, and a button,
+and a threepenny-bit in it, so you'd better eat it with care, or you
+may damage your teeth.  Miss de Lisle and I are going to plan great
+parcels for you; she's going to teach me to cook all sorts of things."
+
+"After which you'll try them on the dogs--meaning us," Jim said,
+laughing.  "Well, if we don't go into hospital after them, we'll let
+you know."
+
+They came into the house, where already the news of the boys' going
+had spread, and the "Once-Tired's," as Wally called their guests, were
+waiting to wish them luck.  Then everybody faded away unobtrusively,
+and left them to themselves.  They went into the morning-room, and
+Norah darned socks vigorously while the boys kept up a running fire of
+cheery talk.  Whatever was to come they would meet it with their heads
+up--all four.
+
+They made dinner a revel--every one dressed in their best, and
+"playing-up" to their utmost, while Miss de Lisle--the only person in
+the house who had wept--had sent up a dinner which really left her
+very little extra chance of celebrating Peace, when that most blessed
+day should come.  Over dessert, Colonel West rose unexpectedly, and
+made a little speech, proposing the health of the boys, who sat, for
+the first time, with utterly miserable faces, restraining an
+inclination to get under the table.
+
+"I am sure," said the Colonel, "that we all wish the--ah--greatest of
+luck to our host's sons--ah, that is, to his son and
+to--ah--his--ah----"
+
+"Encumbrance," said Wally firmly.
+
+"Quite," said the Colonel, without listening.  "We know they
+will--ah--make things hot for the Boche--ah--whenever they get a
+chance.  I--we--hope they will get plenty of chances: and--ah--that we
+will see them--ah--back, with decorations and promotion.  We will miss
+them--ah--very much.  Speaking--ah--personally, I came here fit for
+nothing, and have--ah--laughed so much that I--ah--could almost
+believe myself a subaltern!"
+
+The Tired People applauded energetically, and Mrs. West said
+"Quite--quite!"  But there was something like tears in her eyes as she
+said it.
+
+The Hunts arrived after dinner, and they all woke the house with
+ringing choruses--echoed by Allenby in his pantry, as he polished the
+silver; and Garrett sang a song which was not encored because
+something in his silver tenor made a lump come into Norah's throat;
+and there was no room for that, to-night, of all nights.  Jack Blake
+sang them a stockrider's song, with a chorus in which all the
+Australians joined; and Dick Harrison recited "The Geebung Polo Club,"
+without any elocutionary tricks, and brought down the house.  Jim had
+slipped out to speak to Allenby: and presently, going out, they found
+the hall cleared, and the floor waxed for dancing.  They danced to
+gramophone music, manipulated by Mr. Linton: and Norah and Mrs. Hunt
+had to divide each dance into three, except those with Jim and Wally,
+which they refused to partition, regardless of disconsolate protests
+from the other warriors.  It was eleven o'clock when Allenby announced
+stolidly, "Supper is served, sir!"
+
+"Supper?" said Mr. Linton.  "How's this, Norah?"
+
+"_I_ don't know," said his daughter.  "Ask Miss de Lisle!"
+
+They filed in, to find a table laden and glittering; in the centre a
+huge cake, bearing the greeting, "Good Luck!" with a silken Union Jack
+waving proudly.  Norah whispered to her father, and then ran away.
+She returned, presently, dragging the half-unwilling cook-lady.
+
+"It's against _all_ my rules!" protested the captive.
+
+"Rules be hanged!" said Jim cheerfully.  "Just you sit there, Miss de
+Lisle."  And the cook-lady found herself beside Colonel West, who paid
+her great attention, regarding her, against the evidence of his eyes,
+as a Tired Person whom he had not previously chanced to meet.
+
+"My poor, neglected babies!" said Mrs. Hunt tragically, as twelve
+strokes chimed from the grandfather clock in the hall.  Wally and
+Norah, crowned with blue and scarlet paper caps, the treasure of
+crackers, were performing a weird dance which they called, with no
+very good reason, a tango.  It might have been anything, but it
+satisfied the performers.  The music stopped suddenly, and Mr. Linton
+wound up the gramophone for the last time, slipping on a new record.
+The notes of "Auld Lang Syne," stole out.
+
+They gathered round, holding hands while they sang it; singing with
+all their lungs and all their hearts: Norah between Jim and Wally,
+feeling her fingers crushed in each boyish grip.
+
+  _"Then here's a hand, my trusty friend,
+    And gie's a hand o' thine."_
+
+Over the music her heart listened to the booming of the guns across
+the Channel.  But she set her lips and sang on.
+
+*****
+
+It was morning, and they were on the station.  The train came slowly
+round the corner.
+
+"I'll look after him, Nor."  Wally's voice shook.  "Don't worry too
+much, old girl."
+
+"And yourself, too," she said.
+
+"Oh, I'll keep an eye on _him_," said Jim.  "And Dad's your job."
+
+"And we'll plan all sorts of things for your next leave," said David
+Linton.  "God bless you, boys."
+
+They gripped hands.  Then Jim put his arms round Norah's shoulder.
+
+"You'll keep smiling, kiddie?  Whatever comes?"
+
+"Yes, I promise, Jimmy."
+
+The guard was shouting.
+
+"All aboard."
+
+"Cheero, Norah!"  Wally cried from the window.  "We'll be back in no
+time!"
+
+"Cheero!"  She made the word come somehow.  The train roared off round
+the curve.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+OF LABOUR AND PROMOTION
+
+
+The months went by quickly enough, as David Linton and his daughter
+settled down to their work at the Home for Tired People.  As the place
+became more widely known they had rarely an empty room.  The boys'
+regiment sent them many a wearied officer, too fagged in mind and body
+to enjoy his leave: the hospitals kept up a constant supply of
+convalescent and maimed patients; and there was a steady stream of
+Australians of all ranks, who came, homesick for their own land, and
+found a little corner of it planted in the heart of Surrey.
+Gradually, as the Lintons realized the full extent of the homesickness
+of the lads from overseas, Homewood became more and more Australian in
+details.  Pictures from every State appeared on the walls: aboriginal
+weapons and curiosities, woven grass mats from the natives of
+Queensland, Australian books and magazines and papers--all were
+scattered about the house.  They filled vases with blue-gum leaves and
+golden wattle-blossom from the South of France: Norah even discovered
+a flowering boronia in a Kew nurseryman's greenhouse and carried it
+off in triumph, to scent the house with the unforgettable delight of
+its perfume.  She never afterwards saw a boronia without recalling the
+bewilderment of her fellow-travellers in the railway carriage at her
+exquisitely-scented burden.
+
+"You should have seen their wondering noses, Dad!" said Norah,
+chuckling.
+
+No one, of course, stayed very long at Homewood, unless he were
+hopelessly unfit.  From ten days to three weeks was the average stay:
+then, like ships that pass in the night, the "Once-Tireds," drifted
+away.  But very few forgot them.  Little notes came from the Fronts,
+in green Active Service envelopes: postcards from Mediterranean ports;
+letters from East and West Africa; grateful letters from wives in
+garrison stations and training camps throughout the British Isles.
+They accumulated an extraordinary collection of photographs in
+uniform; and Norah had an autograph book with scrawled signatures,
+peculiar drawings and an occasional scrap of very bad verse.
+
+Major Hunt, his hand fully recovered, returned to the Front in
+February, and his wife prepared to seek another home.  But the Lintons
+flatly refused to let her go.
+
+"We couldn't do it," said David Linton.  "Doesn't the place agree with
+the babies?"
+
+"Oh, you know it does," said Mrs. Hunt.  "But we have already kept the
+cottage far too long--there are other people."
+
+"Not for that cottage," Norah said.
+
+"It really isn't fair," protested their guest.  "Douglas never dreamed
+of our staying: if he had not been sent out in such a hurry at the
+last he would have moved us himself."
+
+David Linton looked at her for a moment.
+
+"Go and play with the babies, Norah," he said.  "I want to talk to
+this obstinate person."
+
+"Now look, Mrs. Hunt," he said, as Norah went off, rather
+relieved--Norah hated arguments.  "You know we run this place for an
+ideal--a dead man's ideal.  _He_ wanted more than anything in the
+world to help the war; we're merely carrying on for him.  We can only
+do it by helping individuals."
+
+"But you have done that for us.  Look at Douglas--strong and fit, with
+one hand as good as the other.  Think of what he was when he came
+here!"
+
+"He may not always be fit.  And if you stay here you ease his worries
+by benefiting his children--and saving for their future.  Then, if he
+has the bad luck to be wounded again, his house is all ready for him."
+
+"I know," she said.  "And I would stay, but that there are others who
+need it more."
+
+"Well, we haven't heard of them.  Look at it another way.  I am
+getting an old man; it worries me a good deal to think that Norah has
+no woman to mother her.  I used to think," he said with a sigh, "that
+it was worse for them to lose their own mother when they were wee
+things; now, I am not sure that Norah's loss is not just beginning.
+It's no small thing for her to have an influence like yours; and Norah
+loves you."
+
+Mrs. Hunt flushed.
+
+"Indeed, I love her," she said.
+
+"Then stay and mother her.  There are ever so many things you can
+teach her that I can't: that Miss de Lisle can't, good soul as she is.
+They're not things I can put into words--but you'll understand.  I
+know she's clean and wholesome right through, but you can help to
+mould her for womanhood.  Of course, she left school far too early,
+but there seemed no help for it.  And if--if bad news comes to us from
+the Front--for any of us--we can all help each other."
+
+Mrs. Hunt thought deeply.
+
+"If you really think I can be of use I will stay," she said.  "I'm not
+going to speak of gratitude--I tried to say all that long ago.  But
+indeed I will do what I can."
+
+"That's all right: I'm very glad," said David Linton.
+
+"And if you really want her taught more," Mrs. Hunt said--"well, I was
+a governess with fairly high certificates before I was married.  She
+could come to me for literature and French; I was brought up in Paris.
+Her music, too: she really should practise, with her talent."
+
+"I'd like it above all things," exclaimed Mr. Linton.  "Norah's
+neglected education has been worrying me badly."
+
+"We'll plan it out," Mrs. Hunt said.  "Now I feel much happier."
+
+Norah did not need much persuasion; after the first moment of dismay
+at the idea of renewed lessons she saw the advantages of the
+plan--helped by the fact that she was always a little afraid of
+failing to come up to Jim's standard.  A fear which would considerably
+have amazed Jim, had he but guessed it!  It was easy enough to fit
+hours of study into her day.  She rose early to practise, before the
+Tired People were awake; and most mornings saw her reading with Mrs.
+Hunt or chattering French, while Eva sang shrilly in the kitchen, and
+the babies slept in their white bunks; and Geoffrey followed Mr.
+Linton's heels, either on Brecon or afoot.  The big Australian
+squatter and the little English boy had become great friends: there
+was something in the tiny lad that recalled the Jim of long ago, with
+his well-knit figure and steady eyes.
+
+One man alone, out of all Tired People, had never left Homewood.
+
+For a time after his arrival Philip Hardress had gained steadily in
+strength and energy; then a chill had thrown him back, and for months
+he sagged downwards; never very ill, but always losing vitality.  The
+old depression seemed to come back to him tenfold.  He could see
+nothing good in life: a cripple, a useless cripple.  His parents were
+dead; save for a brother in Salonica, he was alone in the world.  He
+was always courteous, always gentle; but a wall of misery seemed to
+cut him off from the household.
+
+Then the magnificent physique of the boy asserted itself, and
+gradually he grew stronger, and the hacking cough left him.  Again it
+became possible to tempt him to try to ride.  He spent hours in the
+keen wintry air, jogging round the fields and lanes with Mr. Linton
+and Geoffrey, returning with something of the light in his eyes that
+had encouraged Norah in his first morning, long ago.
+
+"I believe all he wants is to get interested in something," Norah
+said, watching him, one day, as he sat on the stone wall of the
+terrace, looking across the park.  "He was at Oxford before he joined
+the Army, wasn't he, Dad?"
+
+Mr. Linton assented.  "His people arranged when he was little that he
+should be a barrister.  But he hated the idea.  His own wish was to go
+out to Canada."
+
+Norah pondered.
+
+"Couldn't you give him a job on the farm, Dad?"
+
+"I don't know," said her father.  "I never thought of it.  I suppose I
+might find him something to do; Hawkins and I will be busy enough
+presently."
+
+"He's beginning to worry at being here so long," Norah said.  "Of
+course, we couldn't possibly let him go: he isn't fit for his own
+society.  I think if you could find him some work he would be more
+content."
+
+So David Linton, after thinking the matter over, took Hardress into
+his plans for the farm which was to be the main source of supply for
+Homewood.  He found him a quick and intelligent helper.  The work was
+after the boy's own heart: he surrounded himself with agricultural
+books and treaties on fertilizers, made a study of soils, and took
+samples of earth from different parts of the farm--to the profound
+disgust of Hawkins.  War had not done away with all expert
+agricultural science in England: Hardress sent his little packets of
+soil away, and received them back with advice as to treatment which,
+later on, resulted in the yield of the land being doubled--which
+Hawkins attributed solely to his own skill as a cultivator.  But the
+cure was worked in Philip Hardress.  The ring of hope came back into
+his voice: the "shop-leg" dragged ever so little, as he walked across
+the park daily to where the ploughs were turning the grass of the farm
+fields into stretches of brown, dotted with white gulls that followed
+the horses' slow plodding up and down.  The other guests took up a
+good deal of Mr. Linton's time: he was not sorry to have an overseer,
+since Hawkins, while honest and painstaking, was not afflicted with
+any undue allowance of brains.  Together, in the study at night, they
+planned out the farm into little crops.  Already much of the land was
+ready for the planting, and a model poultry-run built near the house
+was stocked with birds; while a flock of sheep grazed in the park, and
+to the tiny herd of cows had been added half a dozen pure-bred
+Jerseys.  David Linton had taken Hardress with him on the trip to buy
+the stock, and both had enjoyed it thoroughly.
+
+Meanwhile the boys at the Front sent long and cheery letters almost
+daily.  Astonishment had come to them almost as soon as they rejoined,
+in finding themselves promoted; they gazed at their second stars in
+bewilderment which was scarcely lessened by the fact that their
+friends in the regiment were not at all surprised.
+
+"Why, didn't you have a war on your own account in Ireland?" queried
+Anstruther.  "You got a Boche submarine sunk and caught half the crew,
+didn't you?"
+
+"Well, but that was only a lark!" said Wally.
+
+"You were wounded, anyhow, young Meadows.  Of course _we_ know jolly
+well you don't deserve anything, but you can't expect the War Office
+to have our intimate sources of information."  He patted Wally on the
+back painfully.  "Just be jolly thankful you get more screw, and don't
+grumble.  No one'll ever teach sense to the War Office!"
+
+There was no lack of occupation in their part of the line.  They saw a
+good deal of fighting, and achieved some reputation as leaders of
+small raids: Jim, in particular, having a power of seeing and hearing
+at night that had been developed in long years in the Bush--but which
+seemed to the Englishmen almost uncanny.  There was reason to believe
+that the enemy felt even more strongly about it--there was seldom rest
+for the weary Boche in the trenches opposite Jim Linton's section.
+Some of his raids were authorized: others were not.  It is probable
+that the latter variety was more discouraging to the enemy.
+
+Behind the fighting line they were in fairly comfortable billets.  The
+officers were hardworked: the daily programme of drill and parades was
+heavy, and in addition there was the task of keeping the men
+interested and fit: no easy matter in the bitter cold of a North
+France winter.  Jim proved a tower of strength to his company
+commander, as he had been to his school.  He organized football teams,
+and taught them the Australian game: he appealed to his father for
+aid, and in prompt response out came cases of boxing-gloves, hockey
+and lacrosse sets, and footballs enough to keep every man going.
+Norah sent a special gift--a big case of indoor games for wet weather,
+with a splendid bagatelle board that made the battalion deeply envied
+by less fortunate neighbours: until a German shell disobligingly burst
+just above it, and reduced it to fragments.  However, Norah's disgust
+at the news was so deep that the Tired People in residence at Homewood
+at the moment conspired together, and supplied the battalion with a
+new board in her name; and this time it managed to escape destruction.
+
+The battalion had some stiff fighting towards the end of the winter,
+and earned a pat on the back from high quarters for its work in
+capturing some enemy trenches.  But they lost heavily, especially in
+officers.  Jim's company commander was killed at his side: the boy
+went out at night into No-Man's Land and brought his body in
+single-handed, in grim defiance of the Boche machine-guns.  Jim had
+liked Anstruther: it was not to be thought of that his body should be
+dishonoured by the touch of a Hun.  Next day he had a far harder task,
+for Anstruther had asked him to write to his mother if he failed to
+come back.  Jim bit his pen for two hours over that letter, and in his
+own mind stigmatized it as "a rotten effort," after it was finished.
+But the woman to whom it carried whatever of comfort was left in the
+world for her saw no fault in it.  It was worn and frayed with reading
+when she locked it away with her dead son's letters.
+
+Jim found himself a company commander after that day's fighting--doing
+captain's work without captain's rank.  Wally was his subaltern, an
+arrangement rather doubted at first by the Colonel, until he saw that
+the chums played the game strictly, and maintained in working hours a
+discipline as firm as was their friendship.  The men adored them: they
+knew their officers shirked neither work nor play, and that they knew
+their own limitations--neither Jim nor Wally ever deluded themselves
+with the idea that they knew as much as their hard-bitten
+non-commissioned officers.  But they learned their men by heart,
+knowing each one's nickname and something of his private affairs;
+losing no opportunity of talking to them and gaining their confidence,
+and sizing them up, as they talked, just as in old days, as captains
+of the team, they had learned to size up boys at football.  "If I've
+got to go over the top I want to know what Joe Wilkins and Tiny Judd
+are doing behind me," said Jim.
+
+They had hoped for leave before the spring offensive, but it was
+impossible: the battalion was too shorthanded, and the enemy was
+endeavouring to be the four-times-armed man who "gets his fist in
+fust."  In that early fighting it became necessary to deal with a nest
+of machine-guns that had got the range of their trenches to a nicety.
+Shells had failed to find them, and the list of casualties to their
+discredit mounted daily higher.  Jim got the chance.  He shook hands
+with Wally--a vision of miserable disappointment--in the small hours
+of a starlit night, and led a picked body of his men out of the front
+trench: making a long _detour_ and finally working nearer and nearer
+to the spot he had studied through his periscope for hours during the
+day.  Then he planted his men in a shell-hole, and wriggled forward
+alone.
+
+The men lay waiting, inwardly chafing at being left.  Presently their
+officer came crawling back to them.
+
+"We've got 'em cold," he whispered.  "Come along--and don't fire a
+shot."
+
+It was long after daylight before the German guards in the main
+trenches suspected anything wrong with that particular nest of
+machine-guns, and marvelled at its silence.  For there was no one left
+to tell them anything--of the fierce, silent onslaught from the rear;
+of men who dropped as it were from the clouds and fought with clubbed
+rifles, led by a boy who seemed in the starlight as tall as a young
+pine-tree.  The gun-crews were sleeping, and most of them never woke
+again: the guards, drowsy in the quiet stillness, heard nothing until
+that swift, wordless avalanche was upon them.
+
+In the British trench there was impatience and anxiety.  The men
+waiting to go forward, if necessary, to support the raiders, crouched
+at the fire-step, muttering.  Wally, sick with suspense, peered
+forward beside the Colonel, who had come in person to see the result
+of the raid.
+
+"I believe they've missed their way altogether," muttered the Colonel
+angrily.  "There should hove been shots long ago.  It isn't like
+Linton.  Dawn will be here soon, and the whole lot will be scuppered."
+He wheeled at a sudden commotion beyond him in the trench.  "Silence
+there!  What's that?"
+
+"That" was Jim Linton and his warriors, very muddy, but otherwise
+undamaged.  They dropped into the trench quietly, those who came first
+turning to receive heavy objects from those yet on top.  Last of all
+Jim hopped down.
+
+"Hullo, Wal!" he whispered.  "Got 'em."
+
+"Got 'em!" said the Colonel sternly.  "What?  Where have you been,
+sir?"
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir--I didn't know you were there," Jim said,
+rather horrified.  It is not given to every subaltern to call his
+commanding officer "Wal," when that is not his name.  "I have the
+guns, sir."
+
+"You have--_what_?"
+
+"The Boche--I mean, the enemy, machine-guns.  We brought them back,
+sir."
+
+"You brought them back!"  The Colonel leaned against the wall of the
+trench and began to laugh helplessly.  "And your men?"
+
+"All here, sir.  We brought the ammunition, too," said Jim mildly.
+"It seemed a pity to waste it!"
+
+Which things, being told in high places, brought Jim a mention in
+despatches, and, shortly afterwards, confirmation of his acting rank.
+It would be difficult to find fitting words to tell of the effect of
+this matter upon a certain grizzled gentleman and a very young lady
+who, when the information reached them were studying patent manures in
+a morning-room in a house in Surrey.
+
+"He's--why," gasped Norah incredulously--"he's actually Captain
+Linton!"
+
+"I suppose he is," said her father.  "Doesn't it sound ridiculous!"
+
+"I don't think it's ridiculous at all," said Norah warmly.  "He
+deserved it.  I think it sounds simply beautiful!"
+
+"Do you know," said her father, somewhat embarrassed--"I really
+believe I agree with you!"  He laughed.  "Captain Linton!"
+
+"Captain Linton!" reiterated Norah.  "Our old Jimmy!"  She swept the
+table clear.  "Oh, Daddy, bother the fertilizers for to-night--I'm
+going to write to Billabong!"
+
+"But it isn't mail-day to-morrow," protested her father mildly.
+
+"No," said Norah.  "But I'll explode if I don't tell Brownie!"
+
+"And will the Captain be coming 'ome soon, Miss Norah?" inquired
+Allenby, a little later.  The household had waxed ecstatic over the
+news.
+
+"The Captain?" Norah echoed.  "Oh, how nice of you, Allenby!  It does
+sound jolly!"
+
+"Miss de Lisle wishes to know, miss.  The news 'as induced 'er to
+invent a special cake."
+
+"We'll have to send it to the poor Captain, I'm afraid," said Norah,
+dimpling.  "Dear me, I haven't told Mrs. Hunt!  I must fly!"  She
+dropped her pen, and fled to the cottage--to find her father there
+before her.
+
+"I might have known you couldn't wait to tell," said Norah, laughing.
+"And he pretends he isn't proud, Mrs. Hunt!"
+
+"I've given up even pretending," said her father, laughing.  "I found
+myself shaking hands with Allenby in the most affectionate manner. You
+see, Mrs. Hunt, this sort of thing hasn't happened in the family
+before."
+
+"Oh, but those boys couldn't help doing well," Mrs. Hunt said, looking
+almost as pleased as the two beaming faces before her.  "They're so
+keen.  I don't know if I should, but shall I read you what Douglas
+says about them?"  They gathered eagerly together over the curt words
+of praise Major Hunt had written.  "Quite ordinary boys, and not a bit
+brainy," he finished.  "But I wish I had a regiment full of them!"
+
+Out in Australia, two months later, a huge old woman and a lean
+Irishman talked over the letter Norah had at length managed to finish.
+
+"And it's a Captin he is!" said Murty O'Toole, head stockman.
+
+"A Captain!" Brownie echoed.  "Don't it seem only yesterday he was
+tearing about in his first little trousis, and the little mistress
+watching him!"
+
+"And riding his first pony.  She put him over her head, and I med sure
+he was kilt.  'Howld her, will ye, Murty,' says he, stamping his
+little fut, and blood trickling down his face.  'Give me a leg up
+again,' he says, 'till we see who's boss!'  And I put him up, and off
+he went down the paddock, digging his little heels into her.  And he's
+a Captin!  Little Masther Jim!"
+
+"I don't know why you're surprised," said Brownie loftily.  "The only
+wonder to _me_ is he wasn't one six months ago!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+THE END OF A PERFECT DAY
+
+
+"Are you ready, Norah?"
+
+"Coming, Phil--half a minute!"
+
+Hardress, in riding kit, looked into the kitchen, where Norah was
+carrying on a feverish consultation with Miss de Lisle.
+
+"You'll be late," he said warningly.  "Your father and Geoffrey have
+gone on."
+
+"Will I truly?" said Norah distractedly.  "Yes, Miss de Lisle, I'll
+write to the Stores about it to-night.  Now, what about the fish?"
+
+"Leave the fish to me," said Miss de Lisle, laughing.  "If I can't
+manage to worry out a fish course without you, I don't deserve to have
+half my diplomas.  Run away: the house won't go to pieces in a single
+hunting day."
+
+"Bless you!" said Norah thankfully, dragging on her gloves and casting
+a wild glance about the kitchen for her hunting crop.  "Oh, there it
+is.  Good-bye.  You won't forget that Major Arkwright is only allowed
+white meat?"
+
+"Oh, run away--I won't forget anything."
+
+"Well, he only came last night, so I thought you mightn't know," said
+the apologetic mistress of the house.  "All right, Phil--I'm truly
+coming.  Good-bye, Miss de Lisle!"  The words floated back as she
+raced off to the front door, where the horses were fretting
+impatiently, held by the groom.
+
+They jogged down the avenue--Hardress on one of the brown cobs, Norah
+on Brunette, the black pony--her favourite mount.  It was a perfect
+hunting morning: mild and still, with almost a hint of spring warmth
+in the air.  The leafless trees bore faint signs of swelling
+leaf-buds.  Here and there, in the grass beside the drive crocus bells
+peeped out at them--purple, white and gold.
+
+"We'll have daffodils soon, I do believe," Norah said.  "Well, I love
+Australia, but there isn't anything in the world lovelier than your
+English spring!"
+
+Ahead of them, as they turned into the road, they could see Mr.
+Linton, looking extraordinarily huge on Killaloe, beside Geoffrey's
+little figure on Brecon.
+
+"This is a great day for Geoff," Hardress said.
+
+"Yes--he has been just longing to go to a meet.  Of course he has
+driven a good many times, but Mrs. Hunt has been a bit nervous about
+his riding.  But he's perfectly safe--and it isn't as if Brecon ever
+got excited."
+
+"No.  Come along, Norah, there's a splendid stretch of grass here:
+let's canter!"
+
+They had agreed upon a Christian-name footing some time before, when
+it seemed that Hardress was likely to be a permanent member of the
+household.  She looked at him now, as they cantered along through the
+dew-wet grass at the side of the road.  No one would have guessed at
+anything wrong with him: he was bronzed and clear-eyed, and sat as
+easily in the saddle as though he had never been injured.
+
+"Sometimes," said Norah suddenly, "I find myself wondering which of
+your legs is the shop one!"  She flushed.  "I suppose I oughtn't to
+make personal remarks, but your leg does seem family property!"
+
+"So it is," said Hardress, grinning.  "Anyhow, you couldn't make a
+nicer personal remark than that one.  So I forgive you.  But it's all
+thanks to you people."
+
+"We couldn't have done anything if you hadn't been determined to get
+on," Norah answered.  "As soon as you made up your mind to that--well,
+you got on."
+
+"I don't know how you stood me so long," he muttered.  Then they
+caught up to the riders ahead, and were received by Geoffrey with a
+joyful shout.
+
+"You were nearly late, Norah," said Mr. Linton.
+
+"I dragged her from the kitchen, sir," Hardress said.  "She and Miss
+de Lisle were poring over food--if we get no dinner to-night it will
+be our fault."
+
+"If _you_ had the responsibility of feeding fourteen hungry people you
+wouldn't make a joke of it," said Norah.  "It's very solemn,
+especially when the fishmonger fails you hopelessly."
+
+"There's always tinned salmon," suggested her father.
+
+"Tinned salmon, indeed!"  Norah's voice was scornful.  "We haven't
+come yet to giving the Tired People dinner out of a tin.  However,
+it's all right: Miss de Lisle will work some sort of a miracle.  I'm
+not going to think of housekeeping for a whole day!"
+
+The meet was four miles away, near a marshy hollow thickly covered
+with osiers and willows.  A wood fringed the marsh, and covered a hill
+which rose from a little stream beyond it.  Here and there was a
+glimpse of the yellow flame of gorse.  There were rolling fields all
+round, many of them ploughed: it had not yet been made compulsory for
+every landowner to till a portion of his holding, but English farmers
+were beginning to awake to the fact that while the German submarine
+flourished it would be both prudent and profitable to grow as much
+food as possible, and the plough had been busy.  The gate into the
+field overlooking the marsh stood open; a few riders were converging
+towards it from different points.  The old days of crowded meets and
+big fields of riders were gone.  Only a few plucky people struggled to
+keep the hounds going, and to find work for the hunters that had
+escaped the first requisition of horses for France.
+
+The hounds came into view as Mr. Linton's party arrived.  The "Master"
+came first, on a big, workmanlike grey; a tall woman, with a
+weatherbeaten face surmounted by a bowler hat.  The hounds trotted
+meekly after her, one or another pausing now and then to drink at a
+wayside puddle before being rebuked for bad manners by a watchful
+whip.  Mrs. Ainslie liked the Lintons; she greeted them pleasantly.
+
+"Nice morning," she said.  "Congratulations: I hear the boy is a
+Captain."
+
+"We can't quite realize it," Norah said, laughing.  "You see, we
+hardly knew he had grown up!"
+
+"Well, he grew to a good size," said Mrs. Ainslie, with a smile.
+"Hullo, Geoff.  Are you going to follow to-day?"
+
+"They won't let me," said Geoffrey dolefully.  "I know Brecon and I
+could, but Mother says we're too small."
+
+"Too bad!" said Mrs. Ainslie.  "Never mind; you'll be big pretty
+soon."
+
+A tall old man in knickerbockers greeted her: Squire Brand, who owned
+a famous property a few miles away, and who had the reputation of
+never missing a meet, although he did not ride.  He knew every inch of
+the country; it was said that he could boast, at the end of a season,
+that he had, on the whole, seen more of the runs than any one else
+except the Master.  He was a tireless runner, with an extraordinarily
+long stride, which carried him over fields and ditches and gave him
+the advantage of many a short cut impossible to most people.  He knew
+every hound by name; some said he knew every fox in the country; and
+he certainly had an amazing knowledge of the direction a fox was
+likely to take.  Horses, on the other hand, bored him hopelessly; he
+consented to drive them, in the days when motors were not, but merely
+as a means of getting from place to place.  A splendid car, with a
+chauffeur much smarter than his master, had just dropped him: a grant
+figure in weatherbeaten Harris tweeds, grasping a heavy stick.
+
+"We should get a good run to-day," he said.
+
+"Yes--with luck," Mrs. Ainslie answered.
+
+"Any news from the Colonel?"
+
+"Nothing in particular--plenty of hard fighting.  But he never writes
+much of that.  He's much more interested in a run he had with a queer
+scratch pack near their billets.  I can't quite gather how it was
+organized, but it comprised two beagles and a greyhound and a
+fox-terrier and a pug.  He said they had a very sporting time!"
+
+Squire Brand chuckled.
+
+"I don't doubt it," he said.  "Did he say what they hunted?"
+
+"Anything they could get, apparently.  They began with a hare, and
+then got on to a rabbit, in some mysterious fashion.  They finished up
+with a brisk run in the outskirts of a village, and got a kill--it
+turned out this time to be a cat!"  Mrs. Ainslie's rather grim
+features relaxed into a smile.  "If any one had told Val two years ago
+that he would be enthusiastic over a day like that!"
+
+A few other riders had come up: two or three officers from a
+neighbouring town; a couple of old men, and a sprinkling of girls.
+Philip Hardress was the only young man in plain clothes, and strangers
+who did not suspect anything amiss with his leg looked at him
+curiously.
+
+"Look at that dear old thing!" he whispered to Norah, indicating a
+prim maiden lady who had arrived on foot.  "I know she's aching for a
+chance to ask me why I'm not in khaki!"  He grinned delightedly.
+"She's rather like the old lady who met me in the train the other day,
+and after looking at me sadly for a few minutes said, 'My dear young
+man, do you not know that your King and Country want you?'"
+
+"Phil!  What did you say?"
+
+"I said, 'Well, they've got one of my legs, and they don't seem to
+have any use for the remnant!'  I don't think she believed me, so I
+invited her to prod it!"  He chuckled at his grim joke.  Three months
+ago he had shrunk from any mention of his injury as from the lash of a
+whip.
+
+Mrs. Ainslie never wasted time.  Two minutes' grace for any
+laggards--which gave time for the arrival of a stout lady on a
+weight-carrying cob--and then she moved on, and in a moment the hounds
+were among the osiers, hidden except that now and then a waving stern
+caught the eye.  Occasionally there was a brief whimper, and once a
+young hound gave tongue too soon, and was, presumably, rebuked by his
+mother, and relapsed into hunting in shamed silence.
+
+The osiers proved blank: they drew out, and went up the hill into the
+covert, while the field moved along to be as close as possible, and
+the followers on foot dodged about feverishly, hoping for luck that
+would make a fox break their way.  Too often the weary lot of the foot
+contingent is to see nothing whatever after the hounds once enter
+covert, since the fox is apt to leave it as unobtrusively as possible
+at the far side, and to take as short a line as he can across country
+to another refuse.  To follow the hounds on foot needs a stout heart
+and patience surpassing that of Job.
+
+But those on horses know little of the blighting experiences of the
+foot-plodders: and when Norah went a-hunting everything ceased to
+exist for her except the white-and-black-and-tan hounds and the green
+fields, and Brunette under her, as eager as she for the first
+long-drawn-out note from the pack.  They moved restlessly back and
+forth along the hillside, the black pony dancing with impatience at
+the faintest whimper from an unseen hound.  Near them Killaloe set an
+example of steadiness--but with watchful eyes and pricked ears.
+
+Squire Brand came up to them.
+
+"I'd advise you to get up near the far end of the covert," he said.
+"It's almost a certainty that he'll break away there and make a
+bee-line across to Harley Wood.  I hope he will, for there's less
+plough there than in the other direction."  He hurried off, and Norah
+permitted Brunette to caper after him.  A young officer on a big bay
+followed their example.
+
+"Come along," he said to a companion.  "It's a safe thing to follow
+old Brand's lead if you want to get away well."
+
+Where the covert ended the hill sloped gently to undulating fields,
+divided by fairly stiff hedges with deep ditches, and occasionally by
+post-and-rail fences, more like the jumps that Norah knew in
+Australia.  The going was good and sound, and there was no wire--that
+terror of the hunter.  Norah had always hated wire, either plain or
+barbed.  She held that it found its true level in being used against
+Germans.
+
+Somewhere in a tangle of bracken an old hound spoke sharply.  A little
+thrill ran through her.  She saw her father put his pipe in his pocket
+and pull his hat more firmly down on his forehead, while she held back
+Brunette, who was dancing wildly.  Then came another note, and
+another, and a long-drawn burst of music from the hounds; and suddenly
+Norah saw a stealthy russet form, with brush sweeping the ground, that
+stole from the covert and slid down the slope, and after him, a
+leaping wave of brown and white and black as hounds came bounding from
+the wood and flung themselves upon the scent, with Mrs. Ainslie close
+behind.  Some one shouted "Gone awa-a-y!" in a voice that went ringing
+in echoes round the hillside.
+
+Brunette bucked airily over the low fence near the covert, and
+Killaloe took it almost in his stride.  Then they were racing side by
+side down the long slope, with the green turf like wet velvet
+underfoot; and the next hedge seemed rushing to meet them.  Over,
+landing lightly in the next field; before them only the "Master" and
+whip, and the racing hounds, with burning eyes for the little red
+speck ahead, trailing his brush.
+
+"By Jove, Norah!" said David Linton, "we're in for a run!"
+
+Norah nodded.  Speech was beyond her; only all her being was singing
+with the utter joy of the ride.  Beneath her Brunette was spurning the
+turf with dainty hooves; stretching out in her gallop, yet gathering
+herself cleverly at her fences, with alert, pricked ears--judging her
+distance, and landing with never a peck or stumble.  The light weight
+on the pony's back was nothing to her; the delicate touch on her mouth
+was all she needed to steady her at the jumps.
+
+Near Harley Wood the fox decided regretfully that safety lay
+elsewhere: the enemy, running silently and surely, were too hot on his
+track.  He crept through a hedge, and slipped like a shadow down a
+ditch; and hounds, jumping out, were at fault for a moment.  The
+slight check gave the rest of the field time to get up.
+
+"That's a great pony!" Norah heard the young officer say.  She patted
+Brunette's arching neck.
+
+Then a quick cast of the hounds picked up the scent, and again they
+were off, but no longer with the fences to themselves; so that it was
+necessary to be watchful for the cheerful enthusiast who jumps on top
+of you, and the prudent sportsman who wobbles all over the field in
+his gallop, seeking for a gap.  Killaloe drew away again: there was no
+hunter in the country side to touch him.  After him went Brunette,
+with no notion of permitting her stable companion to lose her in a run
+like this.
+
+A tall hedge faced them, with an awkward take-off from the bank of a
+ditch.  Killaloe crashed through; Brunette came like a bird in his
+tracks, Norah's arm across her face to ward off the loose branches.
+She got through with a tear in her coat, landing on stiff plough
+through which Mrs. Ainslie's grey was struggling painfully.
+Brunette's light burden was all in her favour here--Norah was first to
+the gate on the far side, opening it just in time for the "Master,"
+and thrilling with joy at that magnate's brief "Thank you!" as she
+passed through and galloped away.  The plough had given the hounds a
+long lead.  But ahead were only green fields, dotted by clumps of
+trees: racing ground, firm and springy.  The air sang in their ears.
+The fences seemed as nothing; the good horses took them in racing
+style, landing with no shock, and galloping on, needing no touch of
+whip or spur.
+
+The old dog-fox was tiring, as well he might, and yet, ahead, he knew,
+lay sanctuary, in an old quarry where the piled rocks hid a hole where
+he had lain before, with angry hounds snuffing helplessly around him.
+He braced his weary limbs for a last effort.  The cruel eyes and
+lolling tongues were very close behind him; but his muscles were
+steel, and he knew how to save every short cut that gave him so much
+as a yard.  He saw the quarry, just ahead, and snarled his triumph in
+his untamed heart.
+
+Brunette's gallop was faltering a little, and Norah's heart sank.  She
+had never had such a run: it was hard if she could not see it out,
+when they had led the field the whole way--and while yet Killaloe was
+going like a galloping-machine in front.  Then she heard a shout from
+her father and saw him point ahead.  "Water!" came to her.  She saw
+the gleam of water, fringed by reeds: saw Killaloe rise like a deer at
+it, taking off well on the near side, and landing with many feet to
+spare.
+
+"Oh--we can do that," Norah thought.  "Brunette likes water."
+
+She touched the pony with her heel for the first time, and spoke to
+her.  Brunette responded instantly, gathering herself for the jump.
+Again Norah heard a shout, and was conscious of the feeling of vague
+irritation that we all know when some one is trying to tell us
+something we cannot possibly hear.  She took the pony at the jump
+about twenty yards from the place where Killaloe had flown it.  Nearer
+and nearer.  The water gleamed before her, very close: she felt the
+pony steady herself for the leap.  Then the bank gave way under her
+heels: there was a moment's struggle and a stupendous splash.
+
+Norah's first thought was that the water was extremely cold; then,
+that the weight on her left leg was quite uncomfortable.  Brunette
+half-crouched, half-lay, in the stream, too bewildered to move; then
+she sank a little more to one side and Norah had to grip her mane to
+keep herself from going under the surface.  It seemed an unpleasantly
+long time before she saw her father's face.
+
+"Norah--are you hurt?"
+
+"No, I'm not hurt," she said.  "But I can't get my leg out--and
+Brunette seems to think she wants to stay here.  I suppose she finds
+the mud nice and soft."  She tried to smile at his anxious face, but
+found it not altogether easy.
+
+"We'll get you out," said David Linton.  He tugged at the pony's
+bridle; and Mrs. Ainslie, arriving presently, came to his assistance,
+while some of the other riders, coming up behind, encouraged Brunette
+with shouts and hunting-crops.  Thus urged, Brunette decided that some
+further effort was necessary, and made one, with a mighty flounder,
+while Norah rolled off into the water.  Half a dozen hands helped her
+at the bank.
+
+"You're sure you're not hurt?" her father asked anxiously.  "I was
+horribly afraid she'd roll on your leg when she moved."
+
+"I'm quite all right--only disgustingly wet," said Norah.  "Oh, and I
+missed the finish--did you ever know such bad luck?"
+
+"Well, you only missed the last fifty yards," said Mrs. Ainslie,
+pointing to the quarry, from which the whips were dislodging the
+aggrieved hounds.  "We finished there; and that old fox is good for
+another day yet.  I'd give you the brush, if he hadn't decided to keep
+it himself."
+
+"Oh!" said Norah, blushing, while her teeth chattered.  "Wasn't it a
+beautiful run!"
+
+"It was--but something has got to be done with you," said Mrs. Ainslie
+firmly.  "There's a farmhouse over there, Mr. Linton: I know the
+people, and they'll do anything they can for you.  Hurry her over and
+get her wet things off--Mrs. Hardy will lend her some clothes."  And
+Norah made a draggled and inglorious exit.
+
+Mrs. Hardy received her with horrified exclamations and offers of all
+that she had in the house: so that presently Norah found herself
+drinking cup after cup of very hot tea and eating buttered toast with
+her father--attired in a plaid blouse of green and red in large
+checks, and a black velvet skirt that had seen better days; with
+carpet slippers lending a neat finish to a somewhat striking
+appearance.  Without, farm hands rubbed down Killaloe and Brunette in
+the stable.  Mrs. Hardy fluttered in and out, bringing more and yet
+more toast, until her guests protested vehemently that exhausted
+nature forbade them to eat another crumb.
+
+"And wot is toast?" grumbled Mrs. Hardy, "and you ridin' all day in
+the cold!"  She had been grievously disappointed at her visitors'
+refusing bacon and eggs.  "The young lady'll catch 'er death, sure's
+fate!  Just another cup, miss.  Lor, who's that comin' in at the
+gate!"
+
+"That" proved to be Squire Brand, who had appeared at the scene of
+Norah's disaster just after her retreat--being accused by Mrs. Ainslie
+of employing an aeroplane.
+
+"I came to see if I could be of any use," he said.  His eye fell on
+Norah in Mrs. Hardy's clothes, and he said, "Dear me!" suddenly, and
+for a moment lost the thread of his remarks.  "You can't let her ride
+home, Linton--my car is here, and if your daughter will let me drive
+her home I'm sure Mr. Hardy will house her pony until to-morrow--you
+can send a groom over for it.  I've a spare coat in the car.  Yes,
+thank you, Mrs. Hardy, I should like a cup of tea very much."
+
+Now that the excitement of the day was over, Norah was beginning to
+feel tired enough to be glad to escape the long ride home on a jaded
+horse.  So, with Mrs. Hardy's raiment hidden beneath a gorgeous fur
+coat, she was presently in the Squire's car, slipping through the dusk
+of the lonely country lanes.  The Squire liked Jim, and asked
+questions about him: and to talk of Jim was always the nearest way to
+Norah's heart.  She had exhausted his present, and was as far back in
+his past as his triumphs in inter-State cricket, when they turned in
+at the Homewood avenue.
+
+"I'm afraid I've talked an awful lot," she said, blushing.  "You see,
+Jim and I are tremendous chums.  I often think how lucky I was to have
+a brother like him, as I had only one!"
+
+"Possibly Jim thinks the same about his sister," said the old man.  He
+looked at her kindly; there was something very child-like in the small
+face, half-lost in the great fur collar of his coat.
+
+"At all events, Jim has a good champion," he said.
+
+"Oh, Jim doesn't need a champion," Norah answered.  "Every one likes
+him, I think.  And of course we think there's no one like him."
+
+The motor stopped, and the Squire helped her out.  It was too late to
+come in, he said; he bade her good night, and went back to the car.
+
+Norah looked in the glass in the hall, and decided that her appearance
+was too striking to be kept to herself.  A very battered felt
+riding-hat surmounted Mrs. Hardy's finery; it bore numerous
+mud-splashes, some of which had extended to her face.  No one was in
+the hall; it was late, and presumably the Tired People were dressing
+for dinner.  She headed for the kitchen, meeting, on the way, Allenby,
+who uttered a choking sound and dived into his pantry.  Norah
+chuckled, and passed on.
+
+Miss de Lisle sat near the range, knitting her ever-present muffler.
+She looked up, and caught her breath at the apparition that danced
+in--Norah, more like a well-dressed scarecrow than anything else, with
+her grey eyes bright among the mud-splashes.  She held up Mrs. Hardy's
+velvet skirt in each hand, and danced solemnly up the long kitchen,
+pointing each foot daintily, in the gaudy carpet slippers.
+
+"Oh my goodness!" ejaculated Miss de Lisle--and broke into helpless
+laughter.
+
+Norah sat down by the fender and told the story of her day--with a
+cheerful interlude when Katty came in hurriedly, failed to see her
+until close upon her, and then collapsed.  Miss de Lisle listened,
+twinkling.
+
+"Well, you must go and dress," she said at length.  "It would be only
+kind to every one if you came down to dinner like that, but I suppose
+it wouldn't do."
+
+"It wouldn't be dignified," said Norah, looking, at the moment, as
+though dignity were the last thing she cared about.  "Well, I suppose
+I must go."  She gathered up her skirts and danced out again, pausing
+at the door to execute a high kick.  Then she curtsied demurely to the
+laughing cook-lady, and fled to her room by a back staircase.
+
+She came down a while later, tubbed and refreshed, in a dainty blue
+frock, with a black ribbon in her shining curls.  The laughter had not
+yet died out of her eyes; she was humming one of Jim's school songs as
+she crossed the hall.  Allenby was just turning from the door.
+
+"A telegram, Miss Norah."
+
+"Thanks, Allenby."  She took it, still smiling.  "I hope it isn't to
+say any one is coming to-night," she said, as she carried it to the
+light.  "Wouldn't it be lovely if it was to tell us they had leave!"
+There was no need to specify whom "they" meant.  "But I'm afraid
+that's too much to hope, just yet."  She tore open the envelope.
+
+There was a long silence as she stood there with the paper in her
+hand: a silence that grew gradually more terrible, while her face
+turned white.  Over and over she read the scrawled words, as if in the
+vain hope that the thing they told might yet prove only a hideous
+dream from which, presently, she might wake.  Then, as if very far
+away, she heard the butler's shaking voice.
+
+"Miss Norah!  Is it bad news?"
+
+"You can send the boy away," she heard herself say, as though it were
+some other person speaking.  "There isn't any answer.  He has been
+killed."
+
+"Not Mr. Jim?"  Allenby's voice was a wail.
+
+"Yes."
+
+She turned from him and walked into the morning-room, shutting the
+door.  In the grate a fire was burning; the leaping light fell on
+Jim's photograph, standing on a table near.  She stared at it, still
+holding the telegram.  Surely it was a dream--she had so often had it
+before.  Surely she would soon wake, and laugh at herself.
+
+The door was flung open, and her father came in, ruddy and splashed.
+She remembered afterwards the shape of a mud-splash on his sleeve.  It
+seemed to be curiously important.
+
+"Norah!--what is wrong?"
+
+She put out her hands to him then, shaking.  Jim had said it was her
+job to look after him, but she could not help him now.  And no words
+would come.
+
+"Is it Jim?"  At the agony of his voice she gave a little choking cry,
+catching at him blindly.  The telegram fluttered to the floor, and
+David Linton picked it up and read it.  He laid the paper on the table
+and turned to her, holding out his hands silently, and she came to him
+and put her face on his breast, trembling.  His arm tightened round
+her.  So they stood, while the time dragged on.
+
+He put her into a chair at last, and they looked at each other: they
+had said no word since that first moment.
+
+"Well," said David Linton slowly, "we knew it might come.  And we know
+that he died like a man, and that he never shirked.  Thank God we had
+him, Norah.  And thank God my son died a soldier, not a slacker."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+CARRYING ON
+
+
+After that first terrible evening, during which no one had looked upon
+their agony, David Linton and his child took up their life again and
+tried to splice the broken ends as best they might.  Their guests, who
+came down to breakfast nervously, preparing to go away at once, found
+them in the dining-room, haggard and worn, but pleasantly courteous;
+they talked of the morning's news, of the frost that seemed
+commencing, of the bulbs that were sending delicate spear-heads up
+through the grass or the bare flower-beds.  There were arrangements
+for the day to be made for those who cared to ride or drive: the
+trains to be planned for a gunner subaltern whose leave was expiring
+next day.  Everything was quite as usual, outwardly.
+
+"Pretty ghastly meal, what?" remarked the young gunner to a chum, as
+they went out on the terrace.  "Rather like dancing at a funeral."
+
+Philip Hardress came into the morning-room, where Mr. Linton and Norah
+were talking.
+
+"I don't need to tell you how horribly sorry I am," he faltered.
+
+"No--thanks, Phil."
+
+"You--you haven't any details?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Wally will write as soon as he can," Norah added.
+
+"Yes, of course.  The others want me to say, sir, of course they will
+go away.  They all understand.  I can go too, just to the hotel.  I
+can supervise Hawkins from there."
+
+"I hope none of you will think of doing any such thing," David Linton
+said.  "Our work here is just the same.  Jim would never have wished
+us not to carry on."
+
+"But----" Hardress began.
+
+"There isn't any 'but.'  Norah and I are not going to sit mourning,
+with our hands in front of us.  We mean to work a bit harder, that's
+all.  You see"--the ghost of a smile flickered across the face that
+had aged ten years in a night--"more than ever now, whatever we do for
+a soldier is done for Jim."
+
+Hardress made a curious little gesture of protest.
+
+"And I'm left--half of me!"
+
+"You have got to help us, Phil," Norah said.  "We need you badly."
+
+"I can't do much," he said.  "But as long as you want me, I'm here.
+Then I'm to tell the others, sir----"
+
+"Tell them we hope they will help us to carry on as usual," said David
+Linton.  "I'll come across with you presently, Phil, to look at the
+new cultivator: I hear it arrived last night."
+
+He looked at Norah as the door closed.
+
+"You're sure it isn't too much for you, my girl?  I will send them
+away if you would rather we were by ourselves for a while."
+
+"I promised Jim that whatever happened we'd keep smiling," Norah said.
+"He wouldn't want us to make a fuss.  Jim always did so hate fusses,
+didn't he, Dad?"
+
+She was quite calm.  Even when Mrs. Hunt came hurrying over, and put
+her kind arms about her, Norah had no tears.
+
+"I suppose we haven't realized it," she said.  "Perhaps we're trying
+not to.  I don't want to think of Jim as dead--he was so splendidly
+alive, ever since he was a tiny chap."
+
+"Try to think of him as near you," Mrs. Hunt whispered.
+
+"Oh, he is.  I know Jim never would go far from us, if he could help
+it.  I know he's watching, somewhere, and he will be glad if we keep
+our heads up and go straight on.  He would trust us to do that."  Her
+face changed.  "Oh, Mrs. Hunt,--but it's hard on Dad!"
+
+"He has you still."
+
+"I'm only a girl," said Norah.  "No girl could make up for a son: and
+such a son as Jim.  But I'll try."
+
+There came racing little feet in the hall, and Geoffrey burst in.
+
+"It isn't true!" he shouted.  "Say it isn't true, Norah!  Allenby says
+the Germans have killed Jim--I know they couldn't."  He tugged at her
+woollen coat.  "Say it's a lie, Norah--Jim couldn't be dead!"
+
+"Geoff--Geoff, dear!" Mrs. Hunt tried to draw him away.
+
+"Don't!" Norah said.  She put her arms round the little boy--and
+suddenly her head went down on his shoulder.  The tears came at last.
+Mrs. Hunt went softly from the room.
+
+There were plenty of tears in the household: The servants had all
+loved the big cheery lad, with the pleasant word for each one.  They
+went about their work red-eyed, and Allenby chafed openly at the age
+that kept him at home, doing a woman's work, while boys went out to
+give their lives, laughing, for Empire.
+
+"It ain't fair," he said to Miss de Lisle, who sobbed into the muffler
+she was knitting.  "It ain't fair.  Kids, they are--no more.  They
+ain't meant to die.  Oh, if I could only get at that there Kayser!"
+
+Then, after a week of waiting, came Wally's letter.
+
+*****
+
+"Norah, Dear,--
+
+"I don't know how to write to you.  I can't bear to think about
+you and your father.  It seems it must be only a bad dream--and all
+the time I know it isn't, even though I keep thinking I hear his
+whistle--the one he used for me.
+
+"I had better tell you about it.
+
+"We had orders to attack early one morning.  Jim was awfully keen; he
+had everything ready, and he had been talking to the men until they
+were all as bucked up as they could be.  You know, he was often pretty
+grave about his work, but I don't think I ever saw him look so happy
+as he did that morning.  He looked just like a kid.  He told me he
+felt as if he were going out on a good horse at Billabong.  We were
+looking over our revolvers, and he said, 'That's the only thing that
+feels wrong; it ought to be a stock whip!'
+
+"We hadn't much artillery support.  Our guns were short of shells, as
+usual.  But we took the first trench, and the next.  Jim was just
+everywhere.  He was always first; the men would have followed him down
+a precipice.  He was laughing all the time.
+
+"We didn't get much time before they counter-attacked.  They came on
+in waves--as if there were millions of them, and we had a pretty stiff
+fight in the trench.  It was fairly well smashed about.  I was pretty
+busy about fifty yards away, but I saw Jim up on a broken traverse,
+using his revolver just as calmly as if he were practising in camp,
+and cheering on the men.  He gave me a 'Coo-ee!'
+
+"And then--oh, I don't know how to tell you.  Just as I was looking at
+him a shell burst near him: and when the smoke blew over there was
+nothing--traverse and trench and all, it was just wiped out.  I
+couldn't get near him--the Boches were pouring over in fresh masses,
+and we got the signal to retire--and I was the only one left to get
+the men back.
+
+"He couldn't have felt anything; that's the only thing.
+
+"I wish it had been me.  I'm nobody's dog, and he was just everything
+to you two--and the best friend a fellow ever had.  It would have been
+so much more reasonable if it had been me.  I just feel that I hate
+myself for being alive.  I would have saved him for you if I could,
+Norah,
+                                                              "Wally."
+
+*****
+
+There were letters, too, from Jim's Colonel, and from Major Hunt, and
+Garrett, and every other brother-officer whom Jim had sent to
+Homewood; and others that Norah and her father valued almost more
+highly--from men who had served under him.  Letters that made him glow
+with pride--almost forgetting grief as they read them.  It seemed so
+impossible to think that Jim would never come again.
+
+"I can't feel as though he were dead," Norah said, looking up at her
+father.  "I know I've got to get used to knowing he has gone away from
+us for always.  But I like to think of him as having only changed
+work.  Jim never could be idle in Heaven; he always used to say it
+seemed such a queer idea to sit all day in a white robe and play a
+harp.  Jim's Heaven would have to be a very busy one, and I know he's
+gone there, Dad."
+
+David Linton got up and went to the bookcase.  He came back with
+_Westward Ho!_ in his hand.
+
+"I was reading Kingsley's idea of it last night," he said.  "I think
+it helps, Norah.  Listen.  'The best reward for having wrought well
+already, is to have more to do; and he that has been faithful over a
+few things, must find his account in being made ruler over many
+things.  That is the true and heroical rest, which only is worthy of
+gentlemen and sons of God.'  Jim was only a boy, but he went straight
+and did his best all his life.  I think he has just been promoted to
+some bigger job."
+
+So they held their heads high, as befitted people with just cause for
+being proud, and set themselves to find the rest that comes from hard
+work.  There was plenty to do, for the house was always full of Tired
+People.  Not that the Lintons ever tried to entertain their guests.
+Tired People came to a big, quiet house, where everything ran
+smoothly, and all that was possible was done for comfort.  Beyond
+that, they did exactly as they chose.  There were horses and the motor
+for those who cared to ride and drive; the links for golfers; walks
+with beautiful scenery for energetic folk, and dainty rooms with big
+easy-chairs, or restful lounges under the trees on the lawn, for those
+who asked from Fate nothing better than to be lazy.  No one was
+expected to make conversation or to behave as an ordinary guest.
+Everywhere there was a pleasant feeling of homeliness and welcome; shy
+men became suddenly at their ease; nerve-racked men, strained with
+long months of the noise and horror of war, relaxed in the peace of
+Homewood, and went back to duty with a light step and a clear eye.
+Only there was missing the wild merriment of the first few weeks, when
+Jim and Wally dashed in and out perpetually and kept the house in a
+simmer of uncertainty and laughter.  That could never come again.
+
+But beyond the immediate needs of the Tired People there was much to
+plan and carry out.  Conscription in England was an established fact;
+already there were few fit men to be seen out of uniform.  David
+Linton looked forward to a time when shortage of labour, coupled with
+the deadly work of the German submarines, should mean a shortage of
+food; and he and Norah set themselves to provide against that time of
+scarcity.  Miss de Lisle and Philip Hardress entered into every plan,
+lending the help of brains as well as hands.  The farm was put under
+intensive culture, and the first provision made for the future was
+that of fertilizers, which, since most of them came from abroad, were
+certain to be scarce.  Mr. Linton and Hardress breathed more freely
+when they had stored a two years' supply.  The flock of sheep was
+increased; the fowl-run doubled in size, and put in charge of a
+disabled soldier, a one-armed Australian, whom Hardress found in
+London, ill and miserable, and added to the list of Homewood's
+patients--and cures.  Young heifers were bought, and "boarded-out" at
+neighbouring farms; a populous community of grunting pigs occupied a
+little field.  And in the house Norah and Miss de Lisle worked through
+the spring and summer, until the dry and spacious cellars and
+storerooms showed row upon row of shelves covered with everything that
+could be preserved or salted or pickled, from eggs to runner beans.
+
+Sometimes the Tired People lent a hand, becoming interested in their
+hosts' schemes.  Norah formed a fast friendship with a cheerful
+subaltern in the Irish Guards, who was with them for a wet fortnight,
+much of which he spent in the kitchen stoning fruit, making jam, and
+acting as bottler-in-chief to the finished product.  There were many
+who asked nothing better than to work on the farm, digging, planting
+or harvesting: indeed, in the summer, one crop would have been ruined
+altogether by a fierce storm, but for the Tired People, who, from an
+elderly Colonel to an Australian signaller, flung themselves upon it,
+and helped to finish getting it under cover--carrying the last sheaves
+home just as the rain came down in torrents, and returning to Homewood
+in a soaked but triumphant procession.  Indeed, nearly all the
+unending stream of guests came under the spell of the place; so that
+Norah used to receive anxious inquiries from various corners of the
+earth afterwards--from Egypt or Salonica would come demands as to the
+success of a catch-crop which the writer had helped to sow, or of a
+brood of Buff Orpingtons which he had watched hatching out in the
+incubator: even from German East Africa came a letter asking after a
+special litter of pigs!  Perhaps it was that every one knew that the
+Lintons were shouldering a burden bravely, and tried to help.
+
+They kept Jim very close to them.  A stranger, hearing the name so
+often on their lips, might have thought that he was still with them.
+Together, they talked of him always; not sadly, but remembering the
+long, happy years that now meant a memory too dear ever to let go.
+Jim had once asked Norah for a promise.  "If I go West," he said,
+"don't wear any horrible black frocks."  So she went about in her
+ordinary dresses, especially the blue frocks he had loved--with just a
+narrow black band on her arm.  There were fresh flowers under his
+picture every day, but she did not put them sadly.  She would smile at
+the frank happy face as she arranged leaves and blossoms with a loving
+hand.
+
+Later on, David Linton fitted up a carpenter's bench and a workshop;
+the days were too full for much thinking, but he found the evenings
+long.  He enlisted Hardress in his old work of splint-making, and then
+found that half his guests used to stray out to the lit workshop after
+dinner and beg for jobs, so that before long the nearest Hospital
+Supply Depot could count on a steady output of work from Homewood.
+Mrs. Hunt and Norah used to come as polishers; Miss de Lisle suddenly
+discovered that her soul for cooking included a corner for carpentry,
+and became extraordinarily skilful in the use of chisel and plane.
+When the autumn days brought a chill into the air, Mr. Linton put a
+stove into the workshop; and it became a kind of club, where the whole
+household might often be found; they extended their activities to the
+manufacture of crutches, bed-rests, bed-tables, and half a dozen other
+aids to comfort for broken men.  No work had helped David Linton so
+much.
+
+In the early summer Wally came back on leave: a changed Wally, with
+grim lines where there had once been only merry ones in his lean,
+brown face.  He did not want to come to Homewood; only when begged to
+come did he master the pitiful shrinking he felt from meeting them.
+
+"I didn't know how to face you," he said.  Norah had gone to meet him,
+and they were walking back from the station.
+
+"Don't, Wally; you hurt," she said.
+
+"It's true, though; I didn't.  I feel as if you must hate me for
+coming back--alone."
+
+"Hate you!--and you were Jim's chum!"
+
+"I always came as Jim's chum," Wally said heavily.  "From the very
+first, when I was a lonely little nipper at school, I sort of belonged
+to Jim.  And now--well, I just can't realize it, Norah.  I can't keep
+on thinking about him as dead.  I know he is, and one minute I'm
+feeling half-insane about it, and the next I forget, and think I hear
+him whistling or calling me."  He clenched his hands.  "It's the
+minute after that that is the worst of all," he said.
+
+For a time they did not speak.  They walked on slowly, along the
+pleasant country lane with its blossoming hedges.
+
+"I know," Norah said.  "There's not much to choose between you and Dad
+and me, when it comes to missing Jim.  But as for you--well you did
+come as Jim's chum first--and always; but you came just as much
+because you were yourself.  You know you belonged to Billabong, as we
+all did.  You can't cut yourself off from us now, Wally."
+
+"I?" he echoed.  "Well, if I do, I have mighty little left.  But I
+felt that you couldn't want to see me.  I know what it must be like to
+see me come back without him."
+
+"I'm not going to say it doesn't hurt," said Norah.  "Only it hurts
+you as much as it does us.  And the thing that would be ever so much
+worse is for you not to come.  Why, you're the only comfort we have
+left.  Don't you see, you're like a bit of Jim coming back to us?"
+
+"Oh, Norah--Norah!" he said.  "If I could only have saved him!"
+
+"Don't we know you'd have died quite happily if you could!" Norah
+said.  "Just as happily as he would have died for you."
+
+"He did, you know," Wally said.  All the youth and joy had gone out of
+his voice, leaving it flat and toneless.  "Two or three times that
+morning he kept me out of a specially hot spot, and took it himself.
+He was always doing it: we nearly punched each other's heads about it
+the day before--I told him he was using his rank unfairly.  He just
+grinned and said subalterns couldn't understand necessary strategy in
+the field!"
+
+"He would!" said Norah, laughing.
+
+Wally stared at her.
+
+"I didn't think I'd ever see you laugh again!"
+
+"Not laugh!" Norah echoed.  "Why, it wouldn't be fair to Jim if we
+didn't.  We keep him as near us as we can--talk about him, and about
+all the old, happy times.  We did have such awfully good times
+together, didn't we?  We're never going to get far away from him."
+
+The boy gave a great sigh.
+
+"I've been getting a long way from everything," he said.
+"Since--since it happened I couldn't let myself think: it was just as
+if I were going mad.  The only thing I've wanted to do was to fight,
+and I've had that."
+
+"He looks as if his mind were more tired than his body," David Linton
+said that evening.  "One can see that he has just been torturing
+himself with all sorts of useless thoughts.  You'll have to take him
+in hand, Norah.  Put the other work aside for a while and go out with
+him--ride as much as you can.  It won't do you any harm, either."
+
+"We never thought old Wally would be one of the Tired People," Norah
+said musingly.
+
+"No, indeed.  And I think there has been no one more utterly tired.
+It won't do, Norah: the boy will be ill if we don't look after him."
+
+"We've just got to make him feel how much we want him," Norah said.
+
+"Yes.  And we have to teach him to think happily about Jim--not to
+fight it all the time.  Fighting won't make it any better," said David
+Linton, with a sigh.
+
+But there was no riding for Wally, for a while.  The next day found
+him too ill to get up, and the doctor, sent for hastily, talked of
+shock and over-strain, and ordered bed until his temperature should be
+pleased to go down: which was not for many a weary day.  Possibly it
+was the best thing that could have happened to Wally.  He grew, if not
+reconciled, at least accustomed to his loss; grew, too, to thinking
+himself a coward when he saw the daily struggle waged by the two
+people he loved best.  And Norah was wise enough to call in other
+nurses: chief of them the Hunt babies, Alison and Michael, who rolled
+on his bed and played with him, while Geoffrey sat as close to him as
+possible, and could hardly be lured from the room.  It was not for
+weeks after his return that they heard Wally laugh; and then it was at
+some ridiculous speech of Michael's that he suddenly broke into the
+ghost of his old mirth.
+
+Norah's heart gave a leap.
+
+"Oh, he's better!" she thought.  "You blessed little Michael!"
+
+And so, healing came to the boy's bruised soul.  Not that the old,
+light-hearted Wally came back: but he learned to talk of Jim, and no
+longer to hug his sorrow in silence.  Something became his of the
+peace that had fallen upon Norah and her father.  It was all they
+could hope for, to begin with.
+
+They said good-bye to him before they considered him well enough to go
+back to the trenches.  But the call for men was insistent, and the boy
+himself was eager to go.
+
+"Come back to us soon," Norah said, wistfully.
+
+"Oh, I'm safe to come back," Wally said.  "I'm nobody's dog, you
+know."
+
+"That's not fair!" she flashed.  "Say you're sorry for saying it!"
+
+He flushed.
+
+"I'm sorry if I hurt you, Nor.  I suppose I was a brute to say that."
+Something of his old quaint fun came into his eyes for a moment.
+"Anyhow it's something to be somebody's dog--especially if one happens
+to belong to Billabong-in-Surrey!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+PRISONERS AND CAPTIVES
+
+
+The church was half in ruins.  Great portions of the roof had been
+torn away by shell-fire, and there were gaping holes in the walls
+through which could be caught glimpses of sentries going backwards and
+forwards.  Sometimes a grey battalion swung by; sometimes a German
+officer peered in curiously, with a sneer on his lips.  The drone of
+aircraft came from above, through the holes where the rafters showed
+black against the sky.  Ever the guns boomed savagely from beyond.
+
+There were no longer any seats in the church.  They had all been
+broken up for camp-fires--even the oaken pulpit had gone.  The great
+empty space had been roughly cleared of fallen masonry, which had been
+flung in heaps against the wall; on the stone floor filthy straw was
+thinly spread.  On the straw lay row upon row of wounded men--very
+quiet for the most part; they had found that it did not pay to make
+noise enough to annoy the guards who smoked and played cards in a
+corner.
+
+The long day--how long only the men on the straw knew--was drawing to
+a close.  The sun sank behind the western window, which the guns had
+spared; and the stained glass turned to a glory of scarlet and gold
+and blue.  The shafts of colour lay across the broken altar, whence
+everything had been stripped; they bathed the shattered walls in a
+beauty that was like a cloak over the nakedness of their ruin.  Slowly
+they crept over the floor, as the sun sank lower, touching the straw
+with rosy fingers, falling gently on broken bodies and pain-drawn
+faces; and weary eyes looked gratefully up to the window where a
+figure of Christ with a child in His arms stood glorious in the light,
+and blessed them with the infinite pity of His smile.
+
+A little Cockney lad with a dirty bandage round his head, who had
+tossed in pain all day on the chancel steps, turned to the window to
+greet the daily miracle of the sunset.
+
+"Worf waiting for, all the day, that is!" he muttered.  The
+restlessness left him, and his eyes closed, presently, in sleep.
+
+Slowly the glory died away, and as it passed a little figure in a
+rusty black cassock came in, making his way among the men on the
+straw.  It was the French priest, who had refused to leave his broken
+church: a little, fat man, not in the least like a hero, but with as
+knightly a soul as was ever found in armour and with lance in rest.
+He passed from man to man, speaking in quaint English, occasionally
+dropping gladly into French when he found some one able to answer him
+in his own language.  He had nothing to give them but water; but that
+he carried tirelessly many times a day.  His little store of bandages
+and ointment had gone long ago, but he bathed wounds, helped cramped
+men to change their position, and did the best he could to make the
+evil straw into the semblance of a comfortable bed.  To the helpless
+men on the floor of the church his coming meant something akin to
+Paradise.
+
+He paused near a little Irishman with a broken leg, a man of the
+Dublin Fusiliers, whose pain had not been able to destroy his good
+temper.
+
+"How are you to-night, _mon garcon?_"
+
+"Yerra, not too bad, Father," said the Irishman.  "If I could have
+just a taste of water, now?"  He drank deeply as the priest lifted his
+head, and sank back with a word of thanks.
+
+"This feather pillow of mine is apt to slip if I don't watch it," he
+said, wriggling the back of his head against the cold stone of the
+floor, from which the straw had worked away.  "I dunno could you
+gather it up a bit, Father."  He grinned.  "I'd ask you to put me
+boots under me for a pillow, but if them thieving guards found them
+loose, they'd shweep them from me."
+
+"Ss-h, my son!" the priest whispered warningly.  He shook up a handful
+of straw and made it as firm as he could under the man's head.  "It is
+not prudent to speak so loud.  Remember you cannot see who may be
+behind you."
+
+"Indeed and I cannot," returned Denny Callaghan.  "I'll remember,
+Father.  That's great!"  He settled his head thankfully on the straw
+pillow.  "I'll sleep aisier to-night for that."
+
+"And _Monsieur le Capitaine_--has he moved yet?"  The priest glanced
+at a motionless form near them.
+
+"Well, indeed he did, Father, this afternoon.  He gev a turn, an' he
+said something like 'Tired People.'  I thought there was great sense
+in that, if he was talkin' to us, so I was cheered up about him--but
+not a word have I got out of him since.  But it's something that he
+spoke at all."
+
+The _cure_ bent over the quiet figure.  Two dark eyes opened, as if
+with difficulty, and met his.
+
+"Norah," said Jim Linton.  "Are you there, Norah?"
+
+"I am a friend, my son," said the _cure_.  "Are you in pain?"
+
+The dark eyes looked at him uncomprehendingly.  Then he murmured,
+"Water!"
+
+"It is here."  The little priest held the heavy head, and Jim managed
+to drink a little.  Something like a shadow of a smile came into his
+eyes as the priest wiped his lips.  Then they closed again.
+
+"If they would send us a doctor!" muttered the _cure_, in his own
+language, longingly.  "_Ma joi_, what a lad!"  He looked down in
+admiration at the splendid helpless body.
+
+"He won't die, Father, will he?"
+
+"I do not know, my son.  I can find no wound, except the one on his
+head--nothing seems broken.  Perhaps he will be better to-morrow."  He
+gave the little Irishman his blessing and moved away.  There were many
+eager eyes awaiting him.
+
+Jim was restless during the night; Denny Callaghan, himself unable to
+sleep, watched him muttering and trying to turn, but unable to move.
+
+"I doubt but his back's broken," said the little man ruefully.
+"Yerra, what a pity!"  He tried to soothe the boy with kind words; and
+towards the dawn Jim slept heavily.
+
+He woke when the sun was shining upon him through a rift in the wall.
+The church was full of smothered sounds--stifled groans from helpless
+men, stiffened by lying still, and trying to move.  Jim managed to
+raise himself a little, at which Denny Callaghan gave an exclamation
+of relief.
+
+"Hurroo!  Are you better, sir?"
+
+"Where am I?" Jim asked thickly.
+
+"'Tis in a church you are, sir, though it's not much like it," said
+the little man.  "The Germans call it a hospital.  'Tis all I wish
+they may have the like themselves, and they wounded.  Are you better,
+sir?"
+
+"I . . . think I'm all right," Jim said.  He was trying to regain his
+scattered faculties.  "So they've got me!"  He tried to look at
+Callaghan.  "What's your regiment?"
+
+"The Dubs, sir.  'Tis hard luck; I kem back wounded from Suvla Bay and
+they sent me out to the battalion here; and I'd not been with them a
+week before I got landed again.  Now 'tis a German prison ahead--and
+by all one hears they're not rest-camps."
+
+"No," said Jim.  He tried to move, but failed, sinking back with a
+stifled groan.  "I wish I knew if I was damaged much.  Are there any
+doctors here?"
+
+"There was two, a while back.  They fixed us up somehow, and we
+haven't seen a hair of them since.  The guards throw rations--of a
+sort--at us twice a day.  'Tis badly off we'd be, if it weren't for
+the priest."
+
+"Is he French?"
+
+"He is--and a saint, if there ever was one.  There he comes now."
+Callaghan crossed himself reverently.
+
+A hush had come over the church.  The _cure_, in his vestments, had
+entered, going slowly to the altar.
+
+Jim struggled up on his elbow.  There was perfect silence in the
+church; men who had been talking ceased suddenly, men who moaned in
+their pain bit back their cries.  So they lay while the little priest
+celebrated Mass, as he had done every morning since the Germans swept
+over his village: at first alone, and, since the first few days to a
+silent congregation of helpless men.  They were of all creeds and some
+of no creed at all: but they prayed after him as men learn to pray
+when they are at grips with things too big for them.  He blessed them,
+at the end, with uplifted hand; and dim eyes followed him as he went
+slowly from the church.
+
+He was back among them, presently, in the rusty black cassock.  The
+guards had brought in the men's breakfast--great cans of soup and
+loaves of hard, dark bread.  They put them down near the door,
+tramping out with complete disregard of the helpless prisoners.  The
+priest would see to them, aided by the few prisoners who could move
+about, wounded though they were.  In any case the guard had no order
+to feed prisoners; they were not nurse-maids, they said.
+
+"Ah, my son!  You are awake!"
+
+Jim smiled up at the _cure_.
+
+"Have I been asleep long, sir?"
+
+"Three days.  They brought you in last Friday night.  Do you not
+remember?"
+
+"No," said Jim.  "I don't remember coming here."  He drank some soup
+eagerly, but shook his head at the horrible bread.  The food cleared
+his head, and when the little _cure_ had gone away, promising to
+return as soon as possible, he lay quietly piecing matters together in
+his mind.  Callaghan helped him: the Dublins had been in the line next
+his own regiment when they had gone "over the top" on that last
+morning.
+
+"Oh, I remember all that well enough," Jim said.  "We took two lines
+of trench, and then they came at us like a wall; the ground was grey
+with them.  And I was up on a smashed traverse, trying to keep the men
+together, when it went up too."
+
+"A shell was it?"
+
+Jim shook his head.
+
+"A shell did burst near us, but it wasn't that.  No, the trench was
+mined, and the mine went off a shade too late.  They delayed, somehow;
+it should have gone off if we took the trench, before they
+counter-attacked.  As it was, it must have killed as many of their men
+as ours.  They told me about it afterwards."
+
+"Afterwards?" said Callaghan, curiously.  He looked at Jim, a little
+doubtful as to whether he really knew what he was talking about.
+"Did ye not come straight here then, sir?"
+
+"I did not; I was buried," said Jim grimly.  "The old mine went up
+right under me, and I went up too.  I came down with what seemed like
+tons of earth on top of me; I was covered right in, I tell you, only I
+managed to get some of the earth away in front of my nose and mouth.
+I was lying on my side, near the edge of a big heap of dirt, with my
+hands near my face.  If I'd been six inches further back there
+wouldn't have been the ghost of a chance for me.  I got some of the
+earth and mud away, and found I could breathe, just as I was choking.
+But I was buried for all that.  All our chaps were fighting on top of
+me!"
+
+"D'ye tell me!" gasped Callaghan incredulously.
+
+"I could feel the boots," Jim said.  "I'm bruised with them yet.  What
+time did we go over that morning?--nine o'clock, wasn't it?"
+
+"It was, sir."
+
+"Well, it was twelve or one o'clock when they dug me out.  They
+re-took the trench, and started to dig themselves in, and they found
+me; I've a spade-cut on my hand.  My Aunt, that was a long three
+hours!"
+
+"Did they treat you decent, sir?"
+
+"They weren't too bad," Jim said.  "I couldn't move; I suppose it was
+the weight on me, and the bruising--at least, I hope so.  They felt me
+all over--there was a rather decent lieutenant there, who gave me some
+brandy.  He told me he didn't think there was anything broken.  But I
+couldn't stir, and it hurt like fury when they touched me."
+
+"And how long were you there, sir?"
+
+"They had to keep me until night--there was no way of sending back
+prisoners.  So I lay on a mud-heap, and the officer-boy talked to
+me--he had been to school in England."
+
+"That's where they larned him any decency he had," said Callaghan.
+
+"It might be.  But he wasn't a bad sort.  He looked after me well
+enough.  Then, after nightfall, they sent a stretcher party over with
+me.  The German boy shook hands with me when we were starting, and
+said he was afraid he wouldn't see me again, as we were pretty sure to
+be shelled by the British."
+
+"And were you, sir?"
+
+"Rather.  The first thing I knew was a bit of shrapnel through the
+sleeve of my coat; I looked for the hole this morning, to see if I was
+remembering rightly, and sure enough, here it is."  He held up his
+arm, and showed a jagged tear in his tunic.  "But that's where I stop
+remembering anything.  I suppose I must have caught something else
+then.  Why is my head tied up?  It was all right when they began to
+carry me over."
+
+"Ye have a lump the size of an egg low down on the back of your head,
+sir," said Callaghan.  "And a nasty little cut near your temple."
+
+"H'm!" said Jim.  "I wondered why it ached!  Well I must have got
+those from our side on the way across.  I hope they got a Boche or two
+as well."
+
+"I dunno," Callaghan said.  "The fellas that dumped you down said
+something in their own haythin tongue.  I didn't understand it, but it
+sounded as if they were glad to be rid of you."
+
+"Well, I wouldn't blame them," Jim said.  "I'm not exactly a
+featherweight, and it can't be much fun to be killed carrying the
+enemy about, whether you're a Boche or not."
+
+He lay for a while silently, thinking.  Did they know at home yet? he
+wondered anxiously.  And then he suddenly realized that his fall must
+have looked like certain death: that if they had heard anything it
+would be that he had been killed.  He turned cold at the thought.
+_What_ had they heard--his father, Norah?  And Wally--what did he
+think?  Was Wally himself alive?  He might even be a prisoner.  He
+turned at that thought to Callaghan, his sudden move bringing a
+stifled cry to his lips.
+
+"Did they--are there any other officers of my regiment here?"
+
+"There are not," said Callaghan.  "I got the priest to look at your
+badges, sir, the way he could find out if there was anny more of ye.
+But there is not.  Them that's here is mostly Dublins and Munsters,
+with a sprinkling of Canadians.  There's not an officer or man of the
+Blankshires here at all, barring yourself."
+
+"Will the Germans let us communicate with our people?"
+
+"Communicate, is it?" said the Irishman.  "Yerra, they'll not let
+anyone send so much as a scratch on a post-card."  He dropped his
+voice.  "Whisht now, sir: the priest's taking all our addresses, and
+he'll do his best to send word to every one at home."
+
+"But can he depend on getting through?"
+
+"Faith, he cannot.  But 'tis the only chance we've got.  The poor
+man's nothing but a prisoner himself; he's watched if he goes tin
+yards from the church.  So I dunno, at all, will he ever manage it,
+with the suspicions they have of him."
+
+Jim sighed impatiently.  He could do nothing, then, nothing to keep
+the blow from falling on the two dear ones at home.  He thought of
+trying to bribe the German guards, and felt for his pocket-book, but
+it was gone; some careful Boche had managed to relieve him of it while
+he had been unconscious.  And he was helpless, a log--while over in
+England Norah and his father were, perhaps, already mourning him as
+dead.  His thoughts travelled to Billabong, where Brownie and Murty
+O'Toole and the others kept the home ready for them all, working with
+the love that makes nothing a toil, and planning always for the great
+day that should bring them all back.  He pictured the news
+arriving--saw Brownie's dismayed old face, and heard her cry of
+incredulous pain.  And there was nothing he could do.  It seemed
+unbelievable that such things could be, in a sane world.  But then,
+the world was no longer sane; it had gone mad nearly two years before,
+and he was only one of the myriad atoms caught into the swirl of its
+madness.
+
+The _cure_ came again, presently, and saw his troubled face.  "You are
+in pain, my son?"
+
+"No--I'm all right if I keep quiet," Jim answered.  "But it's my
+people.  Callaghan says you will try to let them know, Father."
+
+"I am learning you all," said the priest, "names, regiments, and
+numbers is it not?  I dare not put them on paper: I have been searched
+three times already, even to my shoes.  But I hope that my chance will
+come before long.  Then I will send them to your War Office."  He
+beamed down on Jim so hopefully that it seemed rather likely that he
+would find a private telegraph office of his own, suddenly.  "Now I
+will learn your name and regiment."  He repeated them several times,
+nodding his head.
+
+"Yes, that is an easy one," he said.  "Some of them are very terrible,
+to a Frenchman; our friend here"--he looked quaintly at
+Callaghan--"has a name which it twists the tongue to say.  And now, my
+son, I would like to examine you, since you are conscious.  I am the
+only doctor--a poor one, I fear.  But perhaps we will find out
+together that there is nothing to be uneasy about."
+
+That, indeed, was what they did find out, after a rather agonizing
+half-hour.  Jim was quite unable to move his legs, being so bruised
+that there was scarcely a square inch of him that was not green and
+blue and purple.  One hip bore the complete impress of a foot, livid
+and angry.
+
+"Yes, that chap jumped on me from a good height," Jim said when the
+_cure_ exclaimed at it.  "I thought he had smashed my leg."
+
+"He went near it," said the _cure_.  "Indeed, my son, you are beaten
+to a jelly.  But that will recover itself.  You can breathe without
+pain?  That is well.  Now we will look at the head."  He unwrapped the
+bandages and felt the lump tenderly.  "Ah, that is better; a little
+concussion, I think, _mon brave_; it is that which kept you so quiet
+when you stayed with us at first.  And the cut heals well; that comes
+of being young and strong, with clean, healthy blood."  He bathed the
+head, and replaced the bandages, sighing that he had no clean ones.
+"But with you it matters little; you will not need them in a few days.
+Then perhaps we will wash these and they will be ready for the next
+poor boy."  He smiled at Jim.  "Move those legs as much as you can, my
+son, and rub them."  He trotted away.
+
+"And that same is good advice," said Callaghan.  "It will hurt to
+move, sir, and you beaten to a pulp first and then stiffening for the
+three days you're after lying here; 'tis all I wish I could rub you,
+with a good bottle of Elliman's to do it with.  But if them Huns move
+you 'twill hurt a mighty lot more than if you move yourself.
+Themselves is the boys for that; they think they've got a feather in
+their caps if they get an extra yelp out of annywan.  So do the best
+you can, sir."
+
+"I will," said Jim--and did his best, for long hours every day.  It
+was weary work, with each movement torture, and for a time very little
+encouragement came in the shape of improvement: then, slowly, with
+rubbing and exercise, the stiffened muscles began to relax.  Callaghan
+cheered him on, forgetting his own aching leg in his sympathy for the
+boy in his silent torment.  In the intervals of "physical jerks," Jim
+talked to his little neighbour, whose delight knew no bounds when he
+heard that Jim knew and cared for his country.  He himself was a Cork
+man, with a wife and two sons; Jim gathered that their equal was not
+to be found in any town in Ireland.  Callaghan occasionally lamented
+the "foolishness" that had kept him in the Army, when he had a right
+to be home looking after Hughie and Larry.  "'Tis not much the Army
+gives you, and you giving it the best years of your life," he said.
+"I'd be better out of it, and home with me boys."
+
+"Then you wouldn't let them go to the war, if they were old enough?"
+Jim asked.
+
+"If they were old enough 'twould not be asking my liberty they'd be,"
+rejoined Mr. Callaghan proudly.  "Is it _my_ sons that 'ud shtand out
+of a fight like this?"  He glared at Jim, loftily unconscious of any
+inconsistency in his remarks.
+
+"Well, there's plenty of your fellow-countrymen that won't go and
+fight, Cally!" said the man beyond him--a big Yorkshireman.
+
+"There's that in all countries," said Callaghan calmly.  "They didn't
+all go in your part of the country, did they, till they were made?
+Faith, I'm towld there's a few there yet in odd corners--and likely to
+be till after the war."  The men round roared joyfully, at the
+expense of the Yorkshireman.
+
+"And 'tis not in Ireland we have that quare baste the con-sci-en-tious
+objector," went on Callaghan, rolling the syllables lovingly on his
+tongue.  "That's an animal a man wouldn't like to meet, now!  Whatever
+our objectors are in Ireland, they're surely never con-sci-en-tious!"
+
+Jim gave a crack of laughter that brought the roving grey eye squarely
+upon him.
+
+"Even in Australia, that's the Captain's country," said the soft Irish
+voice, "I've heard tell there's a boy or two there out of khaki--maybe
+they're holding back for conscription too.  But wherever the boys are
+that don't go, none of them have a song and dance made about them,
+barring only the Irish."
+
+"What about your Sinn Feiners?" some one sang out.  Callaghan's face
+fell.
+
+"Yerra, they have the country destroyed," he admitted.  "And nine out
+of every ten don't know annything about politics or annything else at
+all, only they get talked over, and towld that they're patriots if
+they'll get howld of a gun and do a little drilling at night--an'
+where's the country boy that wouldn't give his ears for a gun!  An'
+the English Gov'mint, that could stop it all with the stroke of a pen,
+hasn't the pluck to bring in conscription in Ireland."
+
+"You're right there, Cally," said some one.
+
+"I know well I'm right.  But the thousands and tens of thousands of
+Irish boys that went to the war and fought till they died--they'll be
+forgotten, and the Sinn Fein scum'll be remembered.  If the Gov'mint
+had the pluck of a mouse they'd be all right.  I tell you, boys,
+'twill be the Gov'mint's own fault if we see the haythin Turks
+parading the fair fields of Ireland, with their long tails held up by
+the Sinn Feiners!"  Callaghan relapsed into gloomy contemplation of
+this awful possibility, and refused to be drawn further.  Even when
+Jim, desiring to be tactful, mentioned a famous Irish V.C. who had,
+single-handed, slain eight Germans, he declined to show any
+enthusiasm.
+
+"Ah, what V.C.!" he said sourly.  "Sure, his owld father wouldn't make
+a fuss of him.  'Why didn't he do more?' says he.  'I often laid out
+twenty men myself with a stick, and I coming from Macroom Fair.  It is
+a bad trial of Mick that he could kill only eight, and he having a
+rifle and bayonet!' he says.  Cock him up with a V.C.!"  After which
+Jim ceased to be consoling and began to exercise his worst
+leg--knowing well that the sight of his torments would speedily melt
+Denny's heart and make him forget the sorrows of Ireland.
+
+The guards did not trouble them much; they kept a strict watch, which
+was not difficult, as all the prisoners were partially disabled; and
+then considered their duty discharged by bringing twice a day the
+invariable meal of soup and bread.  No one liked to speculate on what
+had gone to the making of the soup; it was a pale, greasy liquid, with
+strange lumps in it, and tasted as dish-water may be supposed to
+taste.  Jim learned to eat the sour bread by soaking it in the soup.
+He had no inclination to eat, but he forced himself to swallow the
+disgusting meals, so that he might keep up his strength, just as he
+worked his stiff limbs and rubbed them most of the day.  For there was
+but one idea in Jim Linton's mind--escape.
+
+Gradually he became able to sit up, and then to move a little,
+hobbling painfully on a stick which had been part of a broken pew, and
+endeavouring to take part in looking after the helpless prisoners, and
+in keeping the church clean, since the guards laughed at the idea of
+helping at either.  Jim had seen something of the treatment given to
+wounded German soldiers in England, and he writhed to think of them,
+tended as though they were our own sick, while British prisoners lay
+and starved in filthy holes.  But the little _cure_ rebuked him.
+
+"But what would you, my son?  They are _canaille_--without breeding,
+without decency, without hearts.  Are we to put ourselves on that
+level?"
+
+"I suppose not--but it's a big difference, Father," Jim muttered.
+
+"The bigger the difference, the more honour on our side," said the
+little priest.  "And things pass.  Long after you and I and all these
+poor lads are forgotten it will be remembered that we came out of this
+war with our heads up.  But they----!"  Suddenly fierce scorn filled
+his quiet eyes.  "They will be the outcasts of the world!"
+
+Wherefore Jim worked on, and tried to take comfort by the _cure's_
+philosophy; although there were many times when he found it hard to
+digest.  It was all very well to be cheerful about the verdict of the
+future, but difficult to forget the insistent present, with the heel
+of the Hun on his neck.  It was sometimes easier to be philosophic by
+dreaming of days when the positions should be reversed.
+
+He was able to walk a little when the order came to move.  The guards
+became suddenly busy; officers whom the prisoners had not seen before
+came in and out, and one evening the helpless were put roughly into
+farm carts and taken to the station, while those able to move by
+themselves were marched after them--marched quickly, with bayonet
+points ready behind them to prod stragglers.  It was nearly dark when
+they were thrust roughly into closed trucks, looking back for the last
+time on the little _cure_, who had marched beside them, with an arm
+for two sick men, and now stood on the platform, looking wistfully at
+them.  He put up his hand solemnly.
+
+"God keep you, my sons!"
+
+A German soldier elbowed him roughly aside.  The doors of the trucks
+were clashed together, leaving them in darkness; and presently, with
+straining and rattling and clanging, the train moved out of the
+station.
+
+"Next stop, Germany!" said Denny Callaghan from the corner where he
+had been put down.  "And not a ticket between the lot of us!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+THROUGH THE DARKNESS
+
+
+"I think that's the last load," Jim Linton said.
+
+He had wriggled backwards out of a black hole in the side of a black
+cupboard; and now sat back on his heels, gasping.  His only article of
+attire was a pair of short trousers.  From his hair to his heels he
+was caked with dirt.
+
+"Well, praise the pigs for that," said a voice from the blackness of
+the cupboard.
+
+Some one switched on a tiny electric light.  Then it could be seen,
+dimly, that the cupboard was just large enough to hold four men,
+crouching so closely that they almost touched each other.  All were
+dressed--or undressed--as Jim was; all were equally dirty.  Their
+blackened faces were set and grim.  And whether they spoke, or moved,
+or merely sat still, they were listening--listening.
+
+All four were British officers.  Marsh and Fullerton were subalterns
+belonging to a cavalry regiment.  Desmond was a captain--a Dublin
+Fusilier; and Jim Linton completed the quartette; and they sat in a
+hole in the ground under the floor of an officers' barrack in a
+Westphalian prison-camp.  The yawning opening in front of them
+represented five months' ceaseless work, night after night.  It was
+the mouth of a tunnel.
+
+"I dreamed to-day that we crawled in," Marsh said, in a whisper--they
+had all learned to hear the faintest murmur of speech.  "And we
+crawled, and crawled, and crawled: for years, it seemed.  And then we
+saw daylight ahead, and we crawled out--in Piccadilly Circus!"
+
+"That was 'some' tunnel, even in a dream," Desmond said.
+
+"I feel as if it were 'some' tunnel now," remarked Jim--still
+breathing heavily.
+
+"Yes--you've had a long spell, Linton.  We were just beginning to
+think something was wrong."
+
+"I thought I might as well finish--and then another bit of roof fell
+in, and I had to fix it," Jim answered.  "Well, it won't be gardening
+that I'll go in for when I get back to Australia; I've dug enough here
+to last me my life!"
+
+"Hear, hear!" said some one.  "And what now?"
+
+"Bed, I think," Desmond said.  "And to-morrow night--the last crawl
+down that beastly rabbit-run, if we've luck.  Only this time we won't
+crawl back."
+
+He felt within a little hollow in the earth wall, and brought out some
+empty tins and some bottles of water; and slowly, painstakingly, they
+washed off the dirt that encrusted them.  It was a long business, and
+at the end of it Desmond inspected them all, and was himself
+inspected, to make sure that no tell-tale streaks remained.  Finally
+he nodded, satisfied, and then, with infinite caution, he slid back a
+panel and peered out into blackness--having first extinguished their
+little light.  There was no sound.  He slipped out of the door, and
+returned after a few moments.
+
+"All clear," he whispered, and vanished.
+
+One by one they followed him, each man gliding noiselessly away.  They
+had donned uniform coats and trousers before leaving, and closed the
+entrance to the tunnel with a round screen of rough, interlaced twigs
+which they plastered with earth.  The tins were buried again, with
+the bottles.  Ordinarily each man carried away an empty bottle, to be
+brought back next night filled with water; but there was no further
+need of this.  To-morrow night, please God, there would be no
+returning; no washing, crouched in the darkness, to escape the eagle
+eye of the guards; no bitter toil in the darkness, listening with
+strained ears all the while.
+
+Jim was the last to leave.  He slid the panel into position, and
+placed against it the brooms and mops used in keeping the barrack
+clean.  As he handled them one by one, a brush slipped and clattered
+ever so slightly.  He caught at it desperately, and then stood
+motionless, beads of perspiration breaking out upon his forehead.  But
+no sound came from without, and presently he breathed more freely.
+
+He stood in a cupboard under the stairs.  It was Desmond who first
+realized that there must be space beyond it, who had planned a way in,
+and thence to cut a tunnel to freedom.  They had found, or stolen, or
+manufactured, tools, and had cut the sliding panel so cunningly that
+none of the Germans who used the broom-cupboard had suspected its
+existence.  The space on the far side of the wall had given them room
+to begin their work.  Gradually it had been filled with earth until
+there was barely space for them to move; then the earth as they dug it
+out had to be laboriously thrust under the floor of the building,
+which was luckily raised a little above ground.  They had managed to
+secrete some wire, and, having tapped the electric supply which lit
+the barrack, had carried a switch-line into their "dug-out."  But the
+tunnel itself had, for the most part, been done in utter blackness.
+Three times the roof had fallen in badly, on the second occasion
+nearly burying Jim and Fullerton; it was considered, now, that Linton
+was a difficult man to bury, with an unconquerable habit of
+resurrecting himself.  A score of times they had narrowly escaped
+detection.  For five months they had lived in a daily and nightly
+agony of fear--not of discovery itself, or its certain savage
+punishment, but of losing their chance.
+
+There were eight officers altogether in the "syndicate," and four
+others knew of their plan--four who were keen to help, but too badly
+disabled from wounds to hope for anything but the end of the war.
+They worked in shifts of four--one quartette stealing underground each
+night, as soon as the guards relaxed their vigil, while the others
+remained in the dormitories, ready to signal to the working party,
+should any alarm occur, and, if possible, to create a disturbance to
+hold the attention of the Germans for a little.  They had succeeded in
+saving the situation three times when a surprise roll-call was made
+during the night--thanks to another wire which carried an electric
+alarm signal underground from the dormitory.  Baylis, who had been an
+electrical engineer in time of peace, had managed the wiring; it was
+believed among the syndicate that when Baylis needed any electric
+fitting very badly he simply went and thought about it so hard that it
+materialized, like the gentleman who evolved a camel out of his inner
+consciousness.
+
+One of the romances of the Great War might be written about the way in
+which prisoners bent on escape were able to obtain materials for
+getting out, and necessary supplies when once they were away from the
+camp.  Much of how it was done will never be known, for the
+organization was kept profoundly secret, and those who were helped by
+it were often pledged solemnly to reveal nothing.  Money--plenty of
+money--was the only thing necessary; given the command of that, the
+prisoner who wished to break out would find, mysteriously, tools or
+disguises, or whatever else he needed within the camp, and, after he
+had escaped, the three essentials, without which he had very little
+chance--map, compass, and civilian clothes.  Then, having paid
+enormous sums for what had probably cost the supply system a few
+shillings, he was at liberty to strike for freedom--with a section of
+German territory--a few miles or a few hundred--to cross; and finally
+the chance of circumventing the guards on the Dutch frontier.  It was
+so desperate an undertaking that the wonder was, not that so many
+failed, but that so many succeeded.
+
+Jim Linton had no money.  His was one of the many cases among
+prisoners in which no letters over seemed to reach home--no
+communication to be opened up with England.  For some time he had not
+been permitted to write, having unfortunately managed to incur the
+enmity of the camp commandant by failing to salute him with the
+precise degree of servility which that official considered necessary
+to his dignity.  Then, when at length he was allowed to send an
+occasional letter, he waited in vain for any reply, either from his
+home or his regiment.  Possibly the commandant knew why; he used to
+look at Jim with an evil triumph in his eye which made the boy long to
+take him by his fat throat and ask him whether indeed his letters ever
+got farther than the office waste-paper basket.
+
+Other officers in the camp would have written about him to their
+friends, so that the information could be passed on to Jim's father;
+but in all probability their letters also would have been suppressed,
+and Jim refused to allow them to take the risk.  Letters were too
+precious, and went astray too easily; it was not fair to add to the
+chances of their failing to reach those who longed for them at home.
+And then, there was always the hope that his own might really have got
+through, even though delayed; that some day might come answers,
+telling that at last his father and Norah and Wally were no longer
+mourning him as dead.  He clung to the hope though one mail day after
+another left him bitterly disappointed.  In a German prison-camp there
+was little to do except hope.
+
+Jim would have fared badly enough on the miserable food of the camp,
+but for the other officers.  They received parcels regularly, the
+contents of which were dumped into a common store; and Jim and another
+"orphan" were made honorary members of the mess, with such genuine
+heartiness that after the first protests they ceased to worry their
+hosts with objections, and merely tried to eat as little as possible.
+
+Jim thought about them gratefully on this last night as he slipped out
+of the cupboard and made his way upstairs, moving noiselessly as a cat
+on the bare boards.  What good chaps they were!  How they had made him
+welcome!--even though his coming meant that they went hungrier.  They
+were such a gay, laughing little band; there was not one of them who
+did not play the game, keeping a cheery front to the world and meeting
+privation and wretchedness with a joke and a shrug.  If that was
+British spirit, then Jim decided that to be British was a pretty big
+thing.
+
+It was thanks to Desmond and Fullerton that he had been able to join
+the "syndicate."  They had plenty of money, and had insisted on
+lending him his share of the expenses, representing, when he had
+hesitated, that they needed his strength for the work of
+tunnelling--after which Jim had laboured far more mightily than they
+had ever wished, or even suspected.  He was fit and strong again now;
+lean and pinched, as were they all, but in hard training.  Hope had
+keyed him up to a high pitch.  The last night in this rat-hole;
+to-morrow----!
+
+A light flashed downstairs and a door flung open just as he reached
+the landing.  Jim sprang to his dormitory, flinging off his coat as he
+ran with leaping, stealthy strides.  Feet were tramping up the stairs
+behind him.  He dived into his blankets and drew them up under his
+chin, just as he had dived hurriedly into bed a score of times at
+school when an intrusive master had come upon a midnight "spread"; but
+with his heart pounding with fear as it had never pounded at school.
+What did they suspect?  Had they found out anything?
+
+The guard tramped noisily into the room, under a big Feldwebel, or
+sergeant-major.  He flashed his lantern down the long room, and
+uttered a sharp word of command that brought the sleepers to their
+feet, blinking and but half awake.  Then he called the roll, pausing
+when he came to Jim.
+
+"You sleep in a curious dress.  Where is your shirt?"
+
+"Drying," said Jim curtly.  "I washed it--I've only one."
+
+"Enough for an English swine-hound," said the German contemptuously.
+He passed on to the next man, and Jim sighed with relief.
+
+Presently the guard clanked out, and the prisoners returned to their
+straw mattresses.
+
+"That was near enough," whispered Baylis, who was next to Jim.
+
+"A good deal too near," Jim answered.  "However, it ought to be fairly
+certain that they won't spring another surprise-party on us to-morrow.
+And a miss is as good as a mile."  He turned over, and in a moment was
+sleeping like a baby.
+
+The next day dragged cruelly.
+
+To the eight conspirators it seemed as long as the weary stretch of
+months since they had come to the camp.  For a long while they had
+avoided each other as far as possible in public, knowing that even two
+men who talked much together were liable to be suspected of plotting;
+on this last day they became afraid even to look at each other, and
+wandered about, each endeavouring to put as great a distance as
+possible between himself and the other seven.  It became rather like a
+curious game of hide-and-seek, and by evening they were thoroughly
+"jumpy," with their nerves all on edge.
+
+They had no preparations to make.  Scarcely any of their few
+possessions could be taken with them; they would find outside--if ever
+they got there--food and clothing.  They had managed to make rough
+knives that were fairly serviceable weapons; beyond these, and a few
+small personal belongings they took nothing except the clothes they
+wore--and they wore as little as possible, and those the oldest and
+shabbiest things to be found.  So there was nothing to do, all that
+last day, but watch the slow hours pass, and endeavour to avoid
+falling foul of any of the guards--no easy matter, since every German
+delighted in any chance of making trouble for a prisoner.  Nothing but
+to think and plan, as they had planned and thought a thousand times
+before; to wonder desperately was all safe still--had the door been
+found in the cupboard under the stairs? was the tunnel safe, or had it
+chosen to-day of all days to fall in again? was the exit--in a bed of
+runner beans--already known and watched?  The Huns were so cunning in
+their watchfulness; it was quite likely that they knew all about their
+desperate enterprise, and were only waiting to pounce upon them in the
+instant that success should seem within their grasp.  That was how
+they loved to catch prisoners.
+
+The age-long afternoon dragged to a close.  They ate their supper,
+without appetite--which was a pity, since the meagre store of food in
+the mess had been recklessly ransacked, to give them a good send-off.
+Then another hour--muttering good-byes now and then, as they prowled
+about; and finally, to bed, to lie there for hours of darkness and
+silence.  Gradually the noise of the camp died down.  From the
+guard-room came, for a while, loud voices and harsh laughter; then
+quiet fell there too, and presently the night watch tramped through
+the barrack on its last visit of inspection, flashing lanterns into
+the faces of the prisoners.  To-night the inspection seemed unusually
+thorough.  It set their strained nerves quivering anew.
+
+Then came an hour of utter stillness and darkness; the eight prisoners
+lying with clenched hands and set teeth, listening with terrible
+intentness.  Finally, when Jim was beginning to feel that he must
+move, or go mad, a final signal came from the doorway.  He heard
+Baylis say "Thank God!" under his breath, as they slipped out of bed
+in the darkness and felt their way downstairs.  They were the last to
+come.  The others were all crouched in the cupboard, waiting for them,
+as they reached its door; and just as they did so, the outer doorway
+swung open, with a blaze of light, and the big Feldwebel strode in.
+
+"Shut the door!" Jim whispered.  He launched himself at the German as
+he spoke, with a spring like a panther's.  His fist caught him between
+the eyes and he went down headlong, the lantern rolling into a corner.
+Jim knew nothing of what followed.  He was on top of the Feldwebel,
+pounding his head on the floor; prepared, in his agony of despair, to
+do as much damage as possible before his brief dash for freedom ended.
+Then he felt a hand on his shoulder, and heard Desmond's sharp
+whisper.
+
+"Steady--he's unconscious.  Let me look at him, Linton."
+
+Jim, still astride his capture, sat back, and Desmond flashed the
+Feldwebel's own lantern into that hero's face.
+
+"H'm, yes," he said.  "Hit his head against something.  He's stunned,
+anyhow.  What are we going to do with him?"
+
+"Is he the only one?" Jim asked.
+
+"It seems like it.  But there may be another at any moment.  We've got
+to go on; if he wakes up he'll probably be able to identify you."  He
+felt in his pocket, and produced a coil of strong cord.  "Come along,
+Linton--get off and help me to tie him up."
+
+They tied up the unconscious Feldwebel securely, and lifted him into
+the cupboard among the brooms, gagging him in case he felt inclined
+for any outcry on coming to his senses.  The others had gone ahead,
+and were already in the tunnel; with them, one of the four disabled
+officers, whose job it was to close up the hole at the entrance and
+dismantle the electric light, in the faint hope that the Germans might
+fail to discover their means of escape, and so leave it free for
+another party to try for freedom.  He stood by the yawning hole,
+holding one end of a string by which they were to signal from the
+surface, if all went well.  The wistfulness of his face haunted Jim
+long afterwards.
+
+"Good-bye, old man," he said cheerily, gripping Jim's hand.  "Good
+luck."
+
+"I wish you were coming, Harrison," Jim said, unhappily.
+
+"No such luck.  Cheero, though: the war won't last for ever.  I'll see
+you in Blighty."  They shook hands again, and Jim dived into the
+tunnel.
+
+He knew every inch of it, and wriggled quickly along until the top of
+his head encountered the boots of the man in front of him, after which
+he went more slowly.  There seemed a long delay at the end--long
+enough to make him break into a sweat of fear lest something should
+have gone wrong.  Such thoughts come easily enough when you are lying
+full length in black darkness, in a hole just large enough to hold a
+man; in air so stifling that the laboured breath can scarcely come;
+with the dank earth just under mouth and nose, and overhead a roof
+that may fall in at any moment.  The dragging minutes went by.  Then,
+just as despair seized him, the boots ahead moved.  He wriggled after
+them, finding himself praying desperately as he went.  A rush of sweet
+air came to him, and then a hand, stretching down, caught his
+shoulder, and helped him out.
+
+It was faintly moonlight.  They stood in a thick plantation of runner
+beans, trained on rough trellis-work, in a garden beyond the
+barbed-wire fence of the camp.  The tunnel had turned sharply upwards
+at the end; they had brought with them some boards and other materials
+for filling it up, and now they set to work furiously, after giving
+the signal with the string to Harrison; the three sharp tugs that
+meant "All Clear!"  The boards held the earth they shovelled in with
+their hands; they stamped it flat, and then scattered loose earth on
+top, with leaves and rubbish, working with desperate energy--fearing
+each moment to hear the alarm raised within the barrack.  Finally all
+but Desmond gained the beaten earth of the path, while he followed,
+trying to remove all trace of footprints on the soft earth.  He joined
+them in a moment.
+
+"If they don't worry much about those beans for a few days they may
+not notice anything," he said.  "Come along."
+
+So often had they studied the way from behind the barbed-wire that
+they did not need even the dim moonlight.  They hurried through the
+garden with stealthy strides, bending low behind a row of
+currant-bushes, and so over a low hedge and out into a field beyond.
+There they ran; desperately at first, and gradually slackening to a
+steady trot that carried them across country for a mile, and then out
+upon a highroad where there was no sign of life.  At a cross-roads two
+miles further on they halted.
+
+"We break up here," Desmond said.  "You can find your _cache_ all
+right, you think, Baylis?"
+
+"Oh, yes," Baylis nodded.  It had been thought too dangerous for so
+many to try to escape together, so two hiding-places of clothes and
+food had been arranged.  Later they would break up again into couples.
+
+"Then we'd better hurry.  Good night, you fellows, and good luck.
+We'll have the biggest dinner in Blighty together--when we all get
+there!"
+
+"Good luck!"
+
+Baylis led his party down a road to the east, and Jim, Fullerton and
+Marsh struck south after Desmond, who paused now and then to consult a
+rough map, by a pocket-lamp.  On and on, by a network of lanes,
+skirting farmhouses where dogs might bark; flinging themselves flat in
+a ditch once, when a regiment of Uhlans swept by, unconscious of the
+gasping fugitives a few yards away.  Jim sat up and looked after their
+retreating ranks.
+
+"By Jove, I wish we could borrow a few of their horses!"
+
+"Might buck you off, my son," said Desmond.  "Come on."
+
+A little wood showed before them presently, and Desmond sighed with
+relief.
+
+"That's our place, I think."  He looked at the map again.  "We've got
+to make for the south-west corner and find a big, hollow tree."
+
+They brushed through the close-growing firs, starting in fear as an
+owl flew out above them, hooting dismally.  It was not easy to find
+anything, for the moonlight was scarcely able to filter through the
+branches.  Jim took the lead, and presently they scattered to look for
+the tree.  Something big loomed up before Jim presently.
+
+"It should be about here," he muttered, feeling with his hand for the
+hollow.  Then, as he encountered a roughly-tied bundle, he whistled
+softly, and in a moment brought them all to his side.
+
+There were four rough suits of clothes in the package; a big bag of
+bread, meat, and chocolate; and, most precious of all, a flat box
+containing maps, compasses, and some German money.  They changed
+hurriedly, thrusting their uniforms deep into the hollow of the tree
+and covering them with leaves; and then divided the food.  There was a
+faint hint of dawn in the sky when at length their preparations were
+complete.
+
+"Well, you know your general direction, boys," Desmond said to Marsh
+and Fullerton.  "Get as far as you can before light, and then hide for
+the day.  Hide well, remember; they'll be looking for us pretty
+thoroughly to-day.  Good luck!"  They shook hands and hurried away in
+different directions.
+
+Desmond and Jim came out into open fields beyond the wood, and settled
+down to steady running over field after field.  Sometimes they
+stumbled over ploughed land; sometimes made their way between rows of
+mangolds or turnips, where their feet sank deeply into the yielding
+soil; then, with a scramble through a ditch or hedge, came upon grass
+land where sheep or cows gazed stolidly at the shadowy, racing
+figures.  The east brightened with long streaks of pink; slowly the
+darkness died, and the yellow circle of the sun came up over the
+horizon, and found them still running--casting anxious glances to
+right and left in search of a hiding-place.
+
+"Hang these open fields!--will they never end!" Desmond gasped.  "We
+should be under cover now."
+
+Behind a little orchard a farm-house came into view; they were almost
+upon a cow-house.  It was daylight; a window in the house rattled up,
+and a man shouted to a barking dog.  The fugitives ducked by a sudden
+impulse, and darted into the cow-shed.
+
+It was a long, low building, divided into stables.  There was no
+hiding-place visible, and despair held them for a moment.  Then Jim
+caught sight of a rough ladder leading to an opening in the ceiling,
+and flung his hand towards it; he had no speech left.  They went up it
+hand over hand, and found themselves in a dim loft, with pea-straw
+heaped at one end.  Desmond was almost done.
+
+"Lie down--quick!" Jim pushed him into the straw and covered him over
+with great bundles of it.  Then he crawled in himself, pulling the
+rough pea-stalks over him until he had left himself only a peep-hole
+commanding the trap-door.  As he did so, voices came into the stable.
+
+They held their breath, feeling for their knives.  Then Desmond
+smothered a laugh.
+
+"What did they say?" Jim whispered.
+
+"It would be 'Bail up, Daisy!' in English," Desmond whispered back.
+"They're beginning to milk the cows."
+
+"I wish they'd milk Daisy up here," Jim grinned.  "Man, but I'm
+thirsty!"
+
+It was thirsty work, lying buried in the dusty pea-straw, in the
+close, airless loft.  Hours went by, during which they dared not move,
+for when the milking was done, and the cows turned out, people kept
+coming and going in the shed.  They picked up a little information
+about the war from their talk--Jim's German was scanty, but Desmond
+spoke it like a native; and in the afternoon a farmer from some
+distance away, who had apparently come to buy pigs, let fall the
+remark that a number of prisoners had escaped from the English camp.
+No one seemed much interested; the war was an incident, not really
+mattering so much, in their estimation, as the sale of the pigs.  Then
+every one went away, and Jim and his companion fell asleep.
+
+It was nearly dark when they awoke.  The sleep had done them good, but
+they were overpoweringly thirsty--so thirsty that the thought of food
+without drink was nauseating.  The evening milking was going on; they
+could hear the rattle of the streams of milk into the pails, in the
+intervals of harsh voices.  Then the cows were turned out and heavy
+feet stamped away.
+
+"They should all be out of the way pretty soon," Desmond whispered.
+"Then we can make a move.  We must get to water somehow, or----"  He
+broke off, listening.  "Lie still!" he added quickly.  "Some one is
+coming up for straw."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"'Tis a young lady, and she volunteering to see to bedding for the
+pigs!" Desmond answered.
+
+The ladder creaked, and, peering out, they saw a shock yellow head
+rise into the trap-door.  The girl who came up was about
+twenty--stoutly built, with a broad, good-humoured face.  She wore
+rough clothes, and but for her two thick plaits of yellow hair, might
+easily have passed for a man.
+
+The heavy steps came slowly across the floor, while the men lay trying
+to breath so softly that no unusual movement should stir the loose
+pea-straw.  Then, to their amazement, she spoke.
+
+"Where are you?" she said in English.
+
+Astonishment as well as fear held them silent.  She waited a moment,
+and spoke again.
+
+"I saw you come in.  You need not be afraid."
+
+Still they made no sign.  She gave a short laugh.
+
+"Well, if you will not answer, I must at least get my straw for my
+pigs."
+
+She stooped, and her great arms sent the loose stalks flying in every
+direction.  Desmond and Jim sat up and looked at her in silence.
+
+"You don't seem to want to be killed," Desmond said.  "But assuredly
+you will be, if you raise an alarm."
+
+The girl laughed.
+
+"I could have done that all day, if I had wished," she said.  "Ever
+since I saw you run in when I put up my window this morning."
+
+"Well--what do you want?  Money?"
+
+"No."  She shook her head.  "I do not want anything.  I was brought up
+in England, and I think this is a silly war.  There is a bucket of
+milk for you downstairs; it will come up if one of you will pull the
+string you will find tied to the top of the ladder."  She laughed.
+"If I go to get it you will think I am going to call for help."
+
+Jim was beyond prudence at the moment.  He took three strides to the
+ladder, found the cord, and pulled up a small bucket, three parts full
+of new milk.  The girl sat down on an empty oil-drum and watched them
+drink.
+
+"So!  You are thirsty, indeed," she said.  "Now I have food."
+
+She unearthed from a huge pocket a package of bread and sausage.
+
+"Now you can eat.  It is quite safe, and you could not leave yet; my
+uncle is still wandering about.  He is like most men; they wander
+about and are very busy, but they never do any work.  I run the farm,
+and get no wages, either.  But in England I got wages.  In Clapham.
+That is the place of all others which I prefer."
+
+"Do you, indeed?" Desmond said, staring at this amazing female.  "But
+why did you leave Clapham?"
+
+"My father came back to fight.  He knew all about the war; he left
+England two months before it began.  I did not wish to leave.  I
+desired to remain, earning good wages.  But my father would not permit
+me."
+
+"And where is he now?"
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"I do not know.  Fighting: killed, perhaps.  But my uncle graciously
+offered me a home, and here am I.  I do the work of three men, and I
+am--how did we say it in Clapham?--bored stiff for England.  I wish
+this silly old war would end, so that I could return."
+
+"We're trying to return without waiting for it to end," said Jim
+solemnly.  "Only I'd like to know how you knew what we were."
+
+"But what else could you be?  It is so funny how you put on these
+clothes, like the ostrich, and think no one will guess who you are.
+If you wore his suit of feathers you would still look like British
+officers and nothing else."
+
+"You're encouraging," said Desmond grimly.  "I hope all your nation
+won't be as discerning."
+
+"Ach--they!" said the girl.  "They see no farther than their noses.
+I, too, was like that before I went to Clapham."
+
+"It's a pleasant spot," said Desmond.  "I don't wonder you improved
+there.  But all the same, you are German, aren't you?  I don't quite
+see why you want to befriend us."  He took a satisfying mouthful of
+sausage.  "But I'm glad you do."
+
+"In England I am--well, pretty German," said his fair hostess.  "The
+boys in Clapham, they call me Polly Sauer Kraut.  And I talk of the
+Fatherland, and sing 'Die Wacht am Rhein.'  Oh yes.  But when I come
+back here and work for my so economical uncle on this beastly farm,
+then I remember Clapham and I do not feel German at all.  I cannot
+help it.  But if I said so, I would skinned be, very quickly.  So I
+say 'Gott Strafe England!'  But that is only eyewash!"
+
+"Well, we'll think kindly of one German woman, anyhow," said Desmond.
+"The last of your charming sisters I met was a Red Cross nurse at a
+station where our train pulled up when I was going through, wounded.
+I asked her for a glass of water, and she brought it to me all
+right--only just as she gave it to me she spat in it.  I've been a
+woman-hater ever since, until I met you."  He lifted the bucket, and
+looked at her over its rim.  "Here's your very good health, Miss Polly
+Sauer Kraut, and may I meet you in Clapham!"
+
+The girl beamed.
+
+"Oh, I will be there," she said confidently.  "I have money in the
+Bank in London: I will have a little baker shop, and you will get such
+pastry as the English cannot make."
+
+Jim laughed.
+
+"And then you will be pretty German again!"
+
+"I do not know."  She shook her head.  "No, I think I will just be
+Swiss.  They will not know the difference in Clapham.  And I do not
+think they will want Germans back.  Of course, the Germans will
+go--but they will call themselves Swiss, Poles, any old thing.  Just
+at first, until the English forget: the English always forget, you
+know."
+
+"If they forget all they've got to remember over this business--well
+then, they deserve to get the Germans back," said Desmond, grimly.
+"Always excepting yourself, Miss Polly.  You'd be an ornament to
+whichever nation you happened to favour at the moment."  He finished
+the last remnant of his sausage.  "That was uncommonly good, thank
+you.  Now, don't you think we could make a move?"
+
+"I will see if my uncle is safely in.  Then I will whistle."  She ran
+down the ladder, and presently they heard a low call, and going down,
+found her awaiting them in the cow-shed.
+
+"He is at his supper, so all is quite safe," she said.  "Now you had
+better take the third road to the right, and keep straight on.  It is
+not so direct as the main road, but that would lead you through
+several places where the police are very active--and there is a reward
+for you, you know!"  She laughed, her white teeth flashing in the dim
+shed.  "Good-bye; and when I come back to Clapham you will come and
+take tea at my little shop."
+
+"We'll come and make you the fashion, Miss Polly," said Desmond.
+"Thank you a thousand times."  They swung off into the dusk.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+LIGHTS OUT
+
+
+"There was two of every single thing in the Ark," said Geoffrey
+firmly.  "The man in Church read it out of the Bible."
+
+"Two Teddy-bears?" asked Alison.
+
+"No; Teddies are only toys.  There was real bears, though."
+
+"Meat ones?" asked his sister hopefully.
+
+"Yes.  And all the other nanimals."
+
+"Who drived 'em in?"
+
+"Ole Noah and Mrs. Noah.  Mustn't they have had a time!  If you tried
+to drive in our turkeys an sheep and cows together there'd be awful
+trouble--and Noah had lions and tigers and snakes too."
+
+"Perhaps he had good sheep-dogs," Norah suggested.  She was sewing
+with Mrs. Hunt under a tree on the lawn, while the children played
+with a Noah's Ark on a short-legged table near them.
+
+"He'd need them," Geoffrey said.  "But would sheep-dogs be any good at
+driving snakes and porklepines, Norah?"
+
+"Noah's might have been," Norah answered prudently.  "They must have
+been used to it, you see.  And I believe a good sheep-dog would get
+used to anything."
+
+"Funny things ole Noah and his fam'ly wore," said Geoffrey, looking at
+Japhet with disfavour.  "Like dressing-gowns, only worse.  Wouldn't
+have been much good for looking after nanimals in.  Why, even the Land
+Army girls wear trousers now!"
+
+"Well, fashions were different then," said Mrs. Hunt.  "Perhaps, too,
+they took off the dressing-gowns when they got inside the Ark, and had
+trousers underneath."
+
+"Where'd they keep all the food for the nanimals, anyhow?" Geoffrey
+demanded.  "They'd want such a lot, and it would have to be all
+different sorts of food.  Tigers wouldn't eat vegi-tubbles, like
+rabbits."
+
+"And efalunts would eat buns," said Alison anxiously.  "Did Mrs. Noah
+make vem buns?"
+
+"She couldn't, silly, unless she had a gas-stove," said Geoffrey.
+"They couldn't carry firewood as well.  I say, Mother, don't you think
+the Ark must have had a supply-ship following round, like the Navy
+has?"
+
+"It isn't mentioned," said Mrs. Hunt.
+
+"I say!" said Geoffrey, struck by a new idea that put aside the
+question of supply.  "Just fancy if a submarine had torpedoed the Ark!
+Wouldn't it have been exciting!"
+
+"Let's do it in the bath," said Alison, delightedly.
+
+"All right," Geoffrey said.  "May we, Mother?"
+
+"Oh, yes, if you don't get too wet," his mother said resignedly.
+"They can all swim, that's a comfort.
+
+"We'll muster them," said Geoffrey, bundling the animals into a heap.
+"Hand over that bird, Alison.  I say, Mother, which came first, a fowl
+or an egg?"
+
+Mrs. Hunt sighed.
+
+"It isn't mentioned," she said.  "Which do you think?"
+
+"Fowl, I 'specs," answered her son.
+
+"_I_ fink it was ve egg," said Alison.
+
+"How would it be hatched if it was, silly?" demanded her brother.
+"They didn't have ink-ink-inklebaters then."
+
+Alison puckered her brows, and remained undefeated.
+
+"P'raps Adam sat on it," she suggested.
+
+"I cannot imagine Adam being broody," said Mrs. Hunt.
+
+"Well, anyhow, he hatched out Eve!" said Geoffrey.  No one ventured to
+combat this statement, and the children formed themselves into a
+stretcher party, bearing the Ark and its contents upon a tray in the
+direction of the bathroom.
+
+"Aren't they darlings?" Norah said, laughing.  "Look at that Michael!"
+
+Michael was toddling behind the stretcher-party as fast as his fat
+legs would permit, uttering short and sharp shrieks of anguish lest he
+should be forgotten.  Geoffrey gave the order, "Halt!" and the Ark and
+its bearers came to a standstill.
+
+"Come along, kid," said the commanding officer.  "You can be the
+band."  The procession was re-formed with Michael in the lead, tooting
+proudly on an imaginary bugle.  They disappeared within the house.
+
+"They are growing so big and strong," said Mrs. Hunt thankfully.
+"Michael can't wear any of the things that fitted Geoff at his age; as
+for Alison, nothing seems to fit her for more than a month or two;
+then she gracefully bursts out of her garments!  As for Geoff----!
+But he is getting really too independent: he went off by himself to
+the village yesterday, and I found him playing football behind one of
+the cottages with a lot of small boys."
+
+"Oh--did you?" Norah said, looking a little worried.  "We heard just
+before I came over this morning that there is a case of fever in the
+village--some travelling tinker-people seem to have brought it.  Dad
+said I must tell you we had better not let the children go down there
+for the present."
+
+"There were some gipsy-looking boys among the crowd that Geoff was
+playing with," Mrs. Hunt said anxiously.  "I do hope he hasn't run any
+risk.  He is wearing the same clothes, too--I'll take them off him,
+and have them washed."  She gathered up her sewing hurriedly.  "But I
+think Geoff is strong enough now to resist any germ."
+
+"Oh, of course he is," Norah answered.  "Still, it doesn't do any harm
+to take precautions.  I'll come and help you, Mrs. Hunt."
+
+Geoffrey, congenially employed as a submarine commander about to
+torpedo the Ark, was distinctly annoyed at being reduced to a mere
+small boy, and an unclad one at that.
+
+"I don't see why you want to undress me in the middle of the morning,"
+he said, wriggling out of his blue jersey.  "And it isn't washing-day,
+either, and Alison and Michael'll go and sink the Ark without me if
+you don't hurry."
+
+"I won't let them, Geoff," Norah reassured him.  "I'm an airship
+commander cruising round over the submarine, and she doesn't dare to
+show so much as the tip of her periscope.  Of course, when her captain
+comes back, he'll know what to do!"
+
+"Rather!" said the Captain, wriggling this time in ecstasy.  "I'll
+just put up my anti-aircraft gun and blow the old airship to
+smithereens."
+
+Alison uttered a howl.
+
+"_Won't_ have Norah made into smivvereens!"
+
+"Don't you worry darling, I'll dodge," said Norah.
+
+"Michael, what are you doing with Mrs. Noah?"
+
+"Not want my dear 'ickle Mrs. Noah dwowned," said Michael, concealing
+the lady yet more securely in his tiny pocket.  "She good.  Michael
+_loves_ her."
+
+"Oh, rubbish, Michael! put her back in the Ark," said Geoffrey
+wrathfully.  "However can we have a proper submarining if you go and
+collar half the things?"
+
+"Never collared nuffig," said Michael, unmoved.  "Only tooked my dear
+'ickle Mrs. Noah."
+
+"Never mind Geoff--he's only a small boy," Mrs. Hunt said.
+
+"_Isn't_ a small boy!" protested Michael furiously.  "Daddy said I was
+'normous."
+
+"So you are, best-beloved," laughed Norah, catching him up.  "Now the
+submarine commander has on clean clothes, and you'd better get ready
+to go on duty."  Geoffrey dashed back to the bath with a shout of
+defiance to the airship, and the destruction of the Ark proceeded
+gaily.
+
+"There!" said Mrs. Hunt, putting Geoffrey's garments into a tub.
+"It's just as well to have them washed, but I really don't think
+there's any need to worry."
+
+"I don't think you need, indeed!" said Norah, laughing, as a medley of
+sound came from the bathroom.
+
+It was an "off" day for Norah.  With Miss de Lisle she had potted and
+preserved every variety of food that would lend itself to such
+treatment, and now the working season was almost over.  For the first
+time the Home for Tired People had not many inmates, owing to the fact
+that leave had been stopped for several men at the Front who had
+arranged to spend their holiday at Homewood.  They had with them an
+elderly colonel and his wife; Harry Trevor and another Australian; a
+silent Major who played golf every hour of daylight, and read golf
+literature during the other part of the day; and a couple of sappers,
+on final leave after recovering from wounds.  To-day the Colonel and
+his wife had gone up to London; the others, with the exception of
+Major Mackay, who, as usual, might be seen afar upon the links, had
+gone with Mr. Linton to a sale where he hoped to secure some unusually
+desirable pigs; the sappers, happy in ignorance, promised themselves
+much enjoyment in driving them home.  Left alone, therefore, Norah had
+gone for the day to Mrs. Hunt, ostensibly to improve her French and
+needlework, but in reality to play with the babies.  Just how much the
+Hunt babies had helped her only Norah herself knew.
+
+"I'm asked to a festivity the day after to-morrow," Mrs. Hunt said
+that afternoon.  They were having tea in the pleasant sitting-room of
+the cottage; sounds from the kitchen indicated that Eva was giving her
+celebrated performance of a grizzly bear for the benefit of the
+children. The performance always ended with a hunt, and with the
+slaying of the quarry by Geoffrey, after which the bear expired with
+lingering and unpleasant details.  "Douglas's Colonel is in London on
+leave, and he and his wife have asked me to dine and go to a theatre
+afterwards.  It would mean staying in London that night, of course."
+
+"So of course you'll go?"
+
+"I should love to go," Mrs. Hunt admitted.  "It would be jolly in
+itself, and then I should hear something about Douglas; and all he
+ever tells me about himself might be put on a field postcard.  If the
+babies are quite well, Norah, do you think you would mind taking
+charge?"
+
+Norah laughed.  She had occasionally come to sleep at the cottage
+during a brief absence on Mrs. Hunt's part, and liked nothing better.
+
+"I should love to come," she said.  "But you'd better not put it that
+way, or Eva will be dreadfully injured."
+
+"I don't--to Eva," smiled Mrs. Hunt.  "She thinks you come over in
+case she should need any one to run an errand, and therefore permits
+herself to adore you.  In fact, she told me yesterday, that for a
+young lady you had an uncommon amount of sense!"
+
+"Jim would have said that was as good as a diploma," Norah said,
+laughing.
+
+"I rather think so, myself," Mrs. Hunt answered.  "What about Wally,
+Norah?  Have you heard lately?"
+
+"Yesterday," Norah replied.  "He decorated his letter with beautiful
+people using pen-wipers, so I suppose he is near Ypres.  He says he's
+very fit.  But the fighting seems very stiff.  I'm not happy about
+Wally."
+
+"Do you think he isn't well?"
+
+"I don't think his mind is well," said Norah.  "He was better here,
+before he went back, but now that he is out again I believe he just
+can't bear being without Jim.  He can't think of him happily, as we
+do; he only fights his trouble, and hates himself for being alive.  He
+doesn't say so in words, but when you know Wally as well as Dad and I
+do, you can tell form his letters.  He used to write such cheery,
+funny letters, and now he deliberately tries to be funny--and it's
+pretty terrible."
+
+She paused, and suddenly a little sob came.  Mrs. Hunt stroked her
+hand, saying nothing.
+
+"Do you know," Norah said presently, "I think we have lost Wally more
+than Jim.  Jim died, but the real Jim is ever close in our hearts, and
+we never let him go, and we can talk and laugh about him, just as if
+he was here.  But the real Wally seems to have died altogether, and
+we've only the shell left.  Something in him died when he saw Jim
+killed.  Mrs. Hunt--do you think he'll ever be better?"
+
+"I think he will," Mrs. Hunt said.  "He is too fine and plucky to be
+always like this.  You have to remember that he is only a boy, and
+that he had the most terrible shock that could come to him.  It must
+take time to recover."
+
+"I know," Norah said.  "I tried to think like that--but it hurts so,
+that one can't help him.  We would do anything to make him feel
+better."
+
+"And you will, in time.  Remember, you and your father are more to him
+than any one else in the world.  Make him feel you want him; I think
+nothing else can help him so much."  Mrs. Hunt's eyes were full of
+tears.  "He was such a merry lad--it breaks one's heart to think of
+him as he is."
+
+"He was always the cheerfullest person I ever saw," said Norah.  "He
+just laughed through everything.  I remember once when he was bitten
+by a snake, and it was hours before we could get a doctor.  We were
+nearly mad with anxiety, and he was in horrible pain with the
+tourniquet, but he joked through it all in the most ridiculous way.
+And he was always so eager.  It's the last thing you could call him
+now.  All the spring has gone out of him."
+
+"It will come back," Mrs. Hunt said.  "Only keep on trying--let him
+see how much he means to you."
+
+"Well, he's all we have left," said Norah.  There was silence for a
+moment; and then it was a relief when the children burst into the
+room.
+
+They all went to the station two days later to see Mrs. Hunt off for
+her excursion.  Michael was not to be depended upon to remain brave
+when a train actually bore his mother away, so they did not wait to
+see her go; there were errands to be done in the village, and Norah
+bundled them all into the governess-cart, giving Geoffrey the reins,
+to his huge delight.  He turned his merry face to his mother.
+
+"Good-bye, darling!  Take care of yourself in London Town!"
+
+"I will," said his mother.  "Mind you take care of all the family.
+You're in charge, you know, Geoff."
+
+"Rather!" he said.  "I'm G.O.C., and they've got to do what I tell
+them, haven't they?  And Mother--tell the Colonel to send Father
+home."
+
+"Then you won't be G.O.C.," said Norah.
+
+"Don't want to be, if Father comes," said Geoffrey, his eyes dancing.
+"You'll tell him, won't you, Mother?"
+
+"Indeed I will," she said.  "Now, off you go.  Don't put the cart into
+the ditch, Geoff!"
+
+"Isn't you insulting," said her son loftily.  "But womens don't
+understand!"  He elevated his nose--and then relented to fling her
+kisses as the pony trotted off.  Mrs. Hunt stood at the station
+entrance to watch him for a moment--sitting very straight and stiff,
+holding his whip at the precise angle taught by Jones.  It was such a
+heartsome sight that the incoming train took her by surprise, and she
+had barely time to get her ticket and rush for a carriage.
+
+Norah and her charges found so much to do in the village that when
+they reached home it was time for Michael's morning sleep.  Eva
+brooked no interference with her right of tucking him up for this
+period of peace, but graciously permitted Norah to inspect the process
+and kiss the rosy cheek peeping from the blankets.  Then Alison and
+Geoffrey accompanied her to the house, and visited Miss de Lisle in
+her kitchen, finding her by a curious chance, just removing from the
+oven a batch of tiny cakes of bewildering attractions.  Norah lost
+them afterwards, and going to look for them, was guided by sound to
+Allenby's pantry, where that most correct of butlers was found on his
+hands and knees, being fiercely ridden by both his visitors, when it
+was very pleasant to behold Allenby's frantic endeavours to get to his
+feet before Norah should discover him, and yet to avoid upsetting his
+riders.  Then they called upon Mr. Linton in his study, but finding
+him for once inaccessible, being submerged beneath accounts and
+cheque-books, they fell back upon the billiard-room, where Harry
+Trevor and Bob McGrath, his chum, welcomed them with open arms, and
+romped with them until it was time for Norah to take them home to
+dinner.
+
+"Awful jolly kids," said Harry.  "Why don't you keep them here for
+lunch, Norah?"
+
+"Eva would be terribly hurt," said Norah.  "She always cooks
+everything they like best when Mrs. Hunt is away--quite regardless of
+their digestions."
+
+"Well, can't they come back afterwards?  Let's all go for a walk
+somewhere."
+
+"Oh, do!" pleaded Geoffrey.  "Could we go to the river, Norah?"
+
+"Yes, of course," said Norah.  "Will it be too far for Alison,
+though?"
+
+"Not it--she walked there with Father when he was home last time.  Do
+let's."
+
+"Then we must hurry," said Norah.  "Come along, or Eva will think we
+have deserted her."
+
+They found Eva slightly truculent.
+
+"I was wonderin' was you stayin' over there to dinner," she said.  "I
+know I ain't one of your fine lady cooks with a nime out of the
+'Family 'Erald,' but there ain't no 'arm in that there potato pie, for
+all that!"
+
+"It looks beautiful," said Norah, regarding the brown pie
+affectionately.  "I'm so glad I'm here for lunch.  What does Michael
+have, Eva?"
+
+"Michael 'as fish--an' 'e 'as it out in the kitchen with me," said Eva
+firmly.  "An' 'is own little baby custid-puddin'.  No one but me ever
+cooks anythink for that kid.  Well, of course, you send 'im cakes an'
+things," she added grudgingly.
+
+"Oh, but they're not nourishment," said Norah with tact.
+
+"No," said Eva brightening.  "That's wot I says.  An' nourishment is
+wot counts, ain't it?"
+
+"Oh, rather!" Norah said.  "And isn't he a credit to you!  Well, come
+on, children--I want pie!"  She drew Alison's high chair to the table,
+while Eva, departing to the kitchen, relieved her feelings with a
+burst of song.
+
+They spent a merry afternoon at the river--a little stream which went
+gurgling over pebbly shallows, widening now and then into a broad
+pool, or hurrying over miniature rapids where brown trout lurked.
+Harry and Bob, like most Australian soldiers in England, were
+themselves only children when they had the chance of playing with
+babies; they romped in the grass with them, swung them on low-growing
+boughs, or skimmed stones across placid pools, until the sun grew low
+in the west, and they came back across the park.  Norah wheeled
+Michael in a tiny car; Bob carried Alison, and presently Geoffrey
+admitted that his legs were tired, and was glad to ride home astride
+Harry's broad shoulders.  Mr. Linton came out to meet them, and they
+all went back to the cottage, where Eva had tea ready and was slightly
+aggrieved because her scones had cooled.
+
+"Now, you must all go home," Norah told her men-folk, after tea.
+"It's late, and I have to bath three people."
+
+"Don't we see you again?" Harry asked.
+
+"You may come over to-night if you like--Dad is coming," Norah said.
+"Geoff, you haven't finished, have you?"
+
+"I don't think I'm very hungry," Geoffrey said.  "May I go and shut up
+my guinea-pigs?"
+
+"Yes, of course.  Alison darling, I don't think you ought to have any
+more cakes."
+
+"I always has free-four-'leven when mother is at home," said Alison
+firmly, annexing a chocolate cake and digging her little white teeth
+into it in the hope of averting any further argument.  "Michael
+doesn't want more, he had Geoff's."
+
+"Geoff's?  But didn't Geoff eat any?"
+
+"Geoff's silly to-night," said his sister.  "Fancy not bein' hungry
+when there was choc'lit cakes!"
+
+
+"I hope he didn't get too tired," Norah said to herself anxiously.
+"I'll hurry up and get them all to bed."
+
+She bathed Michael and Alison, with Eva in attendance, and tucked them
+up.  They were very sleepy--too sleepy to be troubled that Mother was
+not there to kiss them good night; indeed, as Norah bent over Michael,
+he thought she was his mother, and murmured, "Mum-mum," in the dusk in
+a little contented voice.  Norah put her cheek down to the rose-leaf
+one for a moment, and then hurried out.
+
+"Geoff!  Where are you, Geoff?"
+
+"I'm here," said Geoffrey, from the back doorstep.  He rose and came
+towards her slowly.  Something in his face made her vaguely uneasy.
+
+"Ready for bed, old chap?" she asked.  "Come on--are you tired?"
+
+"My legs are tired," Geoffrey said.  "And my head's queer.  It keeps
+turning round."  He put out a little appealing hand, and Norah took it
+in her own.  It was burning hot.
+
+"I--I wish Mother was home," the boy said.
+
+Norah sat down and took him on her knee.  He put his head against her.
+
+"You must just let old Norah look after you until Mother comes back,"
+she said gently.  The memory of the fever in the village came to her,
+and she turned sick with fear.  For a moment she thought desperately
+of what she must do both for Geoffrey and for the other children.
+
+"I won't bath Master Geoff; he is tired," she said to Eva.  She
+carried the little fellow into his room and slipped off his clothes;
+he turned in the cool sheets thankfully.
+
+"Lie still, old man; I'll be back in a moment," Norah said.  She went
+out and called to Eva, reflecting with relief that the girl's hard
+Cockney sense was not likely to fail her.
+
+"Eva," she said, "I'm afraid Master Geoff is ill.  You know there is
+fever in the village, and I think he has it.  I mustn't go near any
+one, because I've been looking after him.  Run over to the house and
+tell Mr. Linton I would like him to come over--as quickly as possible.
+Don't frighten him."
+
+"Right-oh!" said Eva.  "I won't be 'arf a tick."
+
+Her flying feet thudded across the grass as Norah went back to the
+room where Geoffrey was already sleeping heavily.  She looked down at
+the little face, flushed and dry; in her heart an agony of dread for
+the Mother, away at her party in London.  Then she went outside to
+wait for her father.
+
+He came quickly, accompanied by Miss de Lisle and Harry Trevor.
+
+"I telephoned for the doctor directly I got your message," he said.
+"He'll be up in a few minutes."
+
+"Thank goodness!" said Norah.  "Of course it may not be the fever.
+But it's something queer."
+
+"The little chap wasn't all right down at the river," Harry said.
+"Only he kept going; he's such a plucky kid.  But he sat jolly quiet
+on me coming home."
+
+"I knew he was quiet; I just thought he was a bit tired," Norah said.
+"I say, Daddy, what about the other children?"
+
+"What about you?" he asked.  His voice was hard with anxiety.
+
+"Me?" said Norah, staring.  "Why, of course I must stay with him, Dad.
+He's in my charge."
+
+"Yes, I suppose you must," said David Linton heavily.  "We'll find out
+from the doctor what precautions can be taken."
+
+"Oh, I'll be all right," Norah said.  "But Alison and Michael mustn't
+stay here."
+
+"No, of course not.  Well, they must only come to us."
+
+"But the Tired People?" Norah asked.
+
+Miss de Lisle interposed.
+
+"There are hardly any now--and two of the boys go away to-morrow," she
+said.  "The south wing could be kept entirely for the children,
+couldn't it, Mr. Linton?  Katty could look after them there--they are
+fond of her."
+
+"That's excellent," said Mr. Linton.  "I really think the risk to the
+house wouldn't be much.  Any of the Tired People who were worried
+would simply have to go away.  But the children would not come near
+any of them; and, please goodness, they won't develop fever at all."
+
+"Then I'll go back and have a room prepared," Miss de Lisle said; "and
+then I'll get you, Mr. Harry, to help me bundle them up and carry them
+over.  We mustn't leave them in this place a minute longer than we can
+help.  That lovely fat Michael!" murmured Miss de Lisle incoherently.
+She hurried away.
+
+There was a hum of an approaching motor presently, and the doctor's
+car came up the drive.  Dr. Hall, a middle-aged and over-worked man,
+looked over Geoffrey quickly, and nodded to himself, as he tucked his
+thermometer under the boy's arm.  Geoffrey scarcely stirred in his
+heavy sleep.
+
+"Fever of course," said the doctor presently, out in the hall.  "No, I
+can't say yet whether he'll be bad or not, Miss Norah.  We'll do our
+best not to let him be bad.  Mrs. Hunt away, is she?  Well, I'll send
+you up a nurse.  Luckily I've a good one free--and she will bring
+medicines and will know all I want done."  He nodded approval of their
+plans for Alison and Michael.  Mr. Linton accompanied him to his car.
+
+"Get your daughter away as soon as you can," the doctor said.  "It's a
+beastly species of fever; I'd like to hang those tinkers.  The child
+in the village died this afternoon."
+
+"You don't say so!" Mr. Linton exclaimed.
+
+"Yes; very bad case from the first.  Fine boy, too--but they didn't
+call me in time.  Well, this village had forgotten all about fever."
+He jumped into the car.  "I'll be up in the morning," he said; and
+whirred off into the darkness.
+
+Alison and Michael, enormously amused at what they took to be a new
+game, were presently bundled up in blankets and carried across to
+Homewood; and soon a cab trundled up with a brisk, capable-looking
+nurse, who at once took command in Geoffrey's room.
+
+"I don't think you should stay," she said to Norah.  "The maid and I
+can do everything for him--and his mother will be home to-morrow.  A
+good hot bath, with some disinfectant in it, here; then leave all your
+clothes here that you've worn near the patient, and run home in fresh
+things.  No risk for you then."
+
+"I couldn't leave Geoff," Norah said.  "Of course I won't interfere
+with you; but his mother left him to me while she was away.  And he
+might ask for me."
+
+"Well, it's only for your own sake I was advising you," said the
+nurse.  "What do you think, Mr. Linton?"
+
+"I think she ought to stay," said David Linton shortly--with fear
+tugging at his heart as he spoke.  "Just make her take precautions, if
+there are any; but the child comes first--he was left in our care."
+
+He went away soon, holding Norah very tightly to him for a moment; and
+then the nurse sent Norah to bed.
+
+"There's nothing for you to do," she said.  "I shall have a sleep near
+the patient."
+
+"But you'll call me if he wants me?"
+
+"Yes--I promise.  Now be off with you."
+
+At the moment Norah did not feel as though she could possibly sleep;
+but very soon her eyes grew heavy and she dozed off to dream, as she
+often dreamed, that she and Jim were riding over the Far Plain at
+Billabong, bringing in a mob of wild young bullocks.  The cattle had
+never learned to drive, and broke back constantly towards the shelter
+of the timber behind them.  There was one big red beast, in
+particular, that would not go quietly; she had half a dozen gallops
+after him in her dream with Bosun under her swinging and turning with
+every movement of the bullocks, and finally heading him, wheeling him,
+and galloping him back to the mob.  Then another broke away, and Jim
+shouted to her, across the paddock.
+
+"Norah!  Norah!"
+
+She woke with a start.  A voice was calling her name, hoarsely; she
+groped for her dressing-gown and slippers, and ran to Geoffrey's room.
+The nurse, also in her dressing-gown, was bending over the bed.
+
+"You're quick," she said approvingly.  "He only called you once.  Take
+this, now, sonnie."
+
+"Norah!"
+
+She bent down to him, taking the hot hand.
+
+"I'm here, Geoff, old man.  Take your medicine."
+
+"All right," said Geoffrey.  He gulped it down obediently and lay
+back.  "Will Mother come?"
+
+"Very soon now," Norah said.  "You know she had to be in London--just
+for one night.  She'll be back to-morrow."
+
+"It's nearly to-morrow, now," the nurse said.  "Not far off morning."
+
+"That's nice!" the child said.  "Stay with me, Norah."
+
+"Of course I will, old man.  Just shut your eyes and go to sleep; I
+won't go away."
+
+She knelt by his bed, patting him gently, until his deep breaths told
+that sleep had come to him again.  The nurse touched her shoulder and
+pointed to the door; she got up softly and went out, looking through
+her open window at the first streaks of dawn in the east.  Her dream
+was still vivid in her mind; even over her anxiety for the child in
+her care came the thought of it, and the feeling that Jim was very
+near now.
+
+"Jim!" she whispered, gazing at the brightening sky.
+
+In Germany, at that moment, two hunted men were facing dawn--running
+wildly, in dread of the coming daylight.  But of that Norah knew
+nothing.  The Jim she saw was the big, clean-limbed boy with whom she
+had ridden so often at Billabong.  It seemed to her that his laughing
+face looked at her from the rose and gold of the eastern sky.
+
+Then Geoffrey turned, and called to her, and she went to him swiftly.
+
+*****
+
+It was four days later.
+
+"Mother."  Geoffrey's voice was only a thread of sound now.  "Will
+Father come?"
+
+"I have sent for him, little son.  He will come if he can."
+
+"That's nice.  Where's Norah?"
+
+"I'm here, sweetheart."  Norah took the wasted hand in hers, holding
+it gently.  "Try to go to sleep."
+
+"Don't go away," Geoffrey murmured.  "I'm awful sleepy."  He half
+turned, nestling his head into his mother's arm.  Across the bed the
+mother's haggard eyes met Norah's.  But hope had almost died from
+them.
+
+"If he lives through the night there's a chance," the doctor said to
+David Linton.  "But he's very weak, poor little chap.  An awful pity;
+such a jolly kid, too.  And all through two abominable families of
+tinkers!  However, there are no fresh cases."
+
+"Can you do nothing more for Geoffrey?"
+
+The doctor shook his head.
+
+"I've done all that can be done.  If his strength holds out there is a
+bare chance."
+
+"Would it be any good to get in another nurse?" Mr. Linton asked.
+"I'm afraid of the mother and Norah breaking down."
+
+"If they do, we shall have to get some one else," the doctor answered.
+"But they wouldn't leave him; neither of them has had any sleep to
+speak of since the boy was taken ill.  Norah is as bad as Mrs. Hunt;
+the nurse says that even if they are asleep they hear Geoffrey if he
+whispers.  I'll come again after a while, Mr. Linton."
+
+He hurried away, and David Linton went softly into the little thatched
+cottage.  Dusk was stealing into Geoffrey's room; the blind fluttered
+gently in the evening breeze.  Mrs. Hunt was standing by the window
+looking down at the boy, who lay sleeping, one hand in that of Norah,
+who knelt by the bed.  She smiled up at her father.  Mrs. Hunt came
+softly across the room and drew him out into the passage.
+
+"He may be better if he sleeps," she said.  "He has hardly had any
+real sleep since he was taken ill."
+
+"Poor little man!" David Linton's voice was very gentle.  "He's
+putting up a good fight, Mrs. Hunt."
+
+"Oh, he's so good!"  The mother's eyes filled with tears.  "He does
+everything we tell him--you know he fought us a bit at first, and then
+we told him he was on parade and we were the officers, and he has done
+everything in soldier-fashion since.  I think he even tried to take
+his medicine smartly--until he grew too weak.  But he never sleeps
+more than a few moments unless he can feel one of us; it doesn't seem
+to matter whether it's Norah or me."
+
+Geoffrey stirred, and they heard Norah's low voice.
+
+"Go to sleep, old chap; it's 'Lights Out,' you know.  You mustn't wake
+up until Reveille."
+
+"Has 'Last Post' gone?" Geoffrey asked feebly.
+
+"Oh yes.  All the camp is going to sleep."
+
+"Is Father?"
+
+"Yes.  Now you must go to sleep with him, the whole night long."
+
+"Stay close," Geoffrey whispered.  His weak little fingers drew her
+hand against his face.  Then no sound came but fitful breathing.
+
+The dark filled the little room.  Presently the nurse crept in with a
+shaded lamp and touched Norah's shoulder.
+
+"You could get up," she whispered.
+
+Norah shook her head, pointing to the thin fingers curled in her palm.
+
+"I'm all right," she murmured back.
+
+They came and went in the room from time to time; the mother, holding
+her breath as she looked down at the quiet face; the nurse, with her
+keen, professional gaze; after a while the doctor stood for a long
+time behind her, not moving.  Then he bent down to her.
+
+"Sure you're all right?"
+
+Norah nodded.  Presently he crept out; and soon the nurse came and sat
+down near the window.
+
+"Mrs. Hunt has gone to sleep," she whispered as she passed.
+
+Norah was vaguely thankful for that.  But nothing was very clear to
+her except Geoffrey's face; neither the slow passing of the hours nor
+her own cramped position that gradually became pain.  Geoffrey's face,
+and the light breathing that grew harder and harder to bear.  Fear
+came and knelt beside her in the stillness, and the night crept on.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+THE WATCH ON THE RHINE
+
+
+Evening was closing upon a waste of muddy flats.  Far as the eye could
+see there was no rise in the land; it lay level to the skyline, with
+here and there a glint of still water, and, further off, flat banks
+between which a wide river flowed sluggishly.  If you cared to follow
+the river, you came at length to stone blockhouses, near which
+sentries patrolled the banks--and would probably have turned you back
+rudely.  From the blockhouses a high fence of barbed wire, thickly
+criss-crossed, stretched north and south until it became a mere thread
+of grey stretching over the country.  There was something relentless,
+forbidding, in that savage fence.  It was the German frontier.  Beyond
+it lay Holland, flat and peaceful.  But more securely than a mountain
+range between the two countries, that thin grey fence barred the way.
+
+If you turned back from the sentries and followed the muddy path along
+the river bank, you were scarcely likely to meet any one.  The guards
+in the blockhouses were under strict discipline, and were not
+encouraged to allow friends to visit them, either from the scattered
+farms or from the town of Emmerich, where lights were beginning to
+glimmer faintly in the twilight.  It was not safe for them to
+disregard regulations, since at any moment a patrol motor-launch might
+come shooting down the river, or a surprise visit be paid by a
+detachment from the battalion of infantry quartered, for training
+purposes, at Emmerich.  Penalties for lax discipline were severe; the
+guards were supposed to live on the alert both by day and by night,
+and the Emmerich commandant considered that the fewer distractions
+permitted to the sentries, the more likely they were to make their
+watch a thorough one.  There had been too many escapes of prisoners of
+war across the frontier; unpleasant remarks had been made from Berlin,
+and the Commandant was on his mettle.  Therefore the river-bank was
+purposely lonely, and any stray figure on it was likely to attract
+attention.
+
+A mile from the northern bank a windmill loomed dark against the
+horizon; a round brick building, like a big pepper-castor, with four
+great arms looking like crossed combs.  A rough track led to it from
+the main road.  Within, the building was divided into several floors,
+lit by narrow windows.  The heavy sails had plied lazily during the
+day; now they had been secured, and two men were coming down the
+ladder that led from the top.  On the ground floor they paused,
+looking discontentedly at some barrels that were ranged against the
+wall, loosely covered with sacking.
+
+"Those accursed barrels are leaking again," one said, in German.
+"Look!"  He pointed to a dark stain spreading from below.  "And Rudolf
+told me he had caulked them thoroughly."
+
+"Rudolf does nothing thoroughly--do you not know that?" answered his
+companion scornfully.  "If one stands over him--well and good; if not,
+then all that Master Rudolf cares for is how soon he may get back to
+his beerhouse.  Well, they must be seen to in the morning; it is too
+late to begin the job to-night."
+
+"I am in no hurry," said the first man.  "If you would help me I would
+attend to them now.  All the stuff may not be wasted."
+
+"Himmel!  I am not going to begin work again at this hour," answered
+the other with a laugh.  "I am not like Rudolf, but I see no enjoyment
+in working overtime; it will be dark, as it is, before we get to
+Emmerich.  Come on, my friend."
+
+"You are a lazy fellow, Emil," rejoined the first man.  "However, the
+loss is not ours, after all, and we should be paid nothing extra for
+doing the work to-night.  Have you the key?"
+
+"I do not forget it two nights running," returned Emil.  "What luck it
+was that the master did not come to-day!--if he had found the mill
+open I should certainly have paid dearly."
+
+"Luck for you, indeed," said his companion.  They went out, shutting
+and locking the heavy oaken door behind them.  Then they took the
+track that led to the main road.
+
+The sound of their footsteps had scarcely died away when the sacking
+over one of the barrels became convulsed by an internal disturbance
+and fell to the floor; and Jim Linton's head popped up in the opening,
+like a Jack-in-the box.
+
+"Come on, Desmond--they've gone at last!" he whispered.
+
+Desmond's head came up cautiously from another barrel.
+
+"Take care--it may be only a blind," he warned.  "They may come back
+at any moment."
+
+Jim's answer was to wriggle himself out of his narrow prison, slowly
+and painfully.  He reached the floor, and stood stretching himself.
+
+"If they come back, I'll meet them with my hands free," he said.
+"Come on, old man; we're like rats in a trap if they catch us in those
+beastly tubs.  At least, out here, we've our knives and our fists.
+Come out, and get the stiffness out of your limbs."
+
+"Well, I suppose we may as well go under fighting if we have to,"
+Desmond agreed.
+
+Jim helped him out, and they stood looking at each other.  They were a
+sorry-looking pair.  Their clothes hung in rags about them; they were
+barefoot and hatless, and, beyond all belief, dirty.  Thin to
+emaciation, their gaunt limbs and hollow cheeks spoke of terrible
+privations; but their sunken eyes burned fiercely, and there was grim
+purpose in their set lips.
+
+"Well--we're out of the small traps, but it seems to me we're caught
+pretty securely in a big one," Desmond said presently.  "How on earth
+are we going to get out of this pepper-pot?"
+
+"We'll explore," Jim said.  Suddenly his eye fell on a package lying
+on an empty box, and he sprang towards it, tearing it open with
+claw-like fingers.
+
+"Oh, by Jove--_food!_" he said.
+
+They fell upon it ravenously; coarse food left by one of the men,
+whose beer-drinking of the night before had perhaps been too heavy to
+leave him with much appetite next day.  But, coarse as it was, it was
+life to the two men who devoured it.
+
+It was nearly six weeks since the night when their tunnel had taken
+them into the world outside the barbed wire of their prison; six weeks
+during which it had seemed, in Desmond's phrase, as though they had
+escaped from a small trap to find themselves caught within a big one.
+They had been weeks of dodging and hiding; travelling by night,
+trusting to map and compass and the stars; lying by day in woods, in
+ditches, under haystacks--in any hole or corner that should shelter
+them in a world that seemed full of cruel eyes looking ceaselessly for
+them.  Backwards and forwards they had been driven; making a few
+miles, and then forced to retreat for many; thrown out of their
+course, often lost hopelessly, falling from one danger into another.
+They had never known what it was to sleep peacefully; their food had
+been chiefly turnips, stolen from the fields, and eaten raw.
+
+Three times they had reached the frontier; only to be seen by the
+guards, fired upon--a bullet had clipped Jim's ear--and forced to turn
+back as the only alternative to capture.  What that turning-back had
+meant no one but the men who endured it could ever know.  Each time
+swift pursuit had nearly discovered them; they had once saved
+themselves by lying for a whole day and part of a night in a pond,
+with only their faces above water in a clump of reeds.
+
+They had long abandoned their original objective; the point they had
+aimed at on the frontier was far too strongly guarded, and after two
+attempts to get through, they had given it up as hopeless, and had
+struck towards the Rhine, in faint expectation of finding a boat, and
+perhaps being able to slip through the sentries.  They had reached the
+river two nights before, but only to realize that their hope was vain;
+no boats were to be seen, and the frowning blockhouses barred the way
+relentlessly.  So they had struck north, again trying to pierce the
+frontier; and the night before had encountered sentries--not men
+alone, but bloodhounds.  The guards had contented themselves with
+firing a few volleys--the dogs had pursued them savagely.  One Jim had
+succeeded in killing with his knife, the other, thrown off the trail
+for a little by a stream down which they had waded, had tracked them
+down, until, almost exhausted, they had dashed in through the open
+door of the old mill--for once careless as to any human beings who
+might be there.
+
+The bloodhound had come, too, and in the mill, lit by shafts of
+moonlight through the narrow windows, they had turned to bay.  The
+fight had not lasted long; they were quick and desperate, and the dog
+had paid the penalty of his sins--or of the sins of the human brutes
+who had trained him.  Then they had looked for concealment, finding
+none in the mill--the floors were bare, except for the great barrels,
+half-full of a brown liquid that they could not define.
+
+"Well, there's nothing for it," Jim had said.  "There's not an inch of
+cover outside, and daylight will soon be here.  We must empty two of
+these things and get inside."
+
+"And the dog?" Desmond had asked.
+
+"Oh, we'll pickle Ponto."
+
+Together they had managed it, though the barrels taxed all their
+strength to move.  The body of the bloodhound had been lowered into
+the brown liquid; two of the others had been gradually emptied upon
+the earthen floor.  With the daylight they had crawled in, drawing the
+sacking over them, to crouch, half-stifled through the long day,
+trembling when a step came near, clenching their knives with a sick
+resolve to sell their freedom dearly.  It seemed incredible that they
+had not been discovered; and now the package of food was the last
+stroke of good luck.
+
+"Well, blessings on Emil, or Fritz, or Ludwig, or whoever he was," Jim
+said, eating luxuriously.  "This is the best blow-out I've had
+since--well, there isn't any since, there never was anything so good
+before!"
+
+"Never," agreed Desmond.  "By George, I thought we were done when that
+energetic gentleman wanted to begin overhauling the casks."
+
+"Me too," said Jim.  "Emil saved us there--good luck to him!"
+
+They finished the last tiny crumb, and stood up.
+
+"I'm a different man," Desmond said.  "If I have to run to-night, then
+the man that tries to catch me will have to do it with a bullet!"
+
+"That's likely enough," Jim said, laughing.  "Well, come and see how
+we're going to get out."
+
+There seemed little enough chance, as they searched from floor to
+floor.  The great door was strong enough to resist ten men; the
+windows were only slits, far too narrow to allow them to pass through,
+even had they dared risk the noise of breaking their thick glass.  Up
+and up they went, their hearts sinking as their bodies mounted; seeing
+no possible way of leaving their round prison.
+
+"Rats in a trap!" said Desmond.  "There's nothing for it but those
+beastly barrels again--and to watch our chance of settling Emil and
+his pal when they come to-morrow."
+
+"Let's look out here," Jim said.
+
+They were at the top of the mill, in a little circular place, barely
+large enough for them to stand upright.  A low door opened upon a tiny
+platform with a railing, from which the great sails could be worked;
+they were back now, but the wind was rising, and they creaked and
+strained at their mooring rope.  Far below the silver sheet of the
+Rhine moved sluggishly, gleaming in the moonlight.  The blockhouses
+stood out sharply on either bank.
+
+"Wonder if they can see us as plainly as we see them," Jim said.
+
+"We'll have callers here presently if they can," Desmond said.  "That,
+at least, is certain.  Better come in, Jim."
+
+Jim was looking at the great sails, and then at the rope that moored
+them.
+
+"Wait half a minute," he said.
+
+He dived into the mill, and returned almost instantly with a small
+coil of rope.
+
+"I noticed this when we came up," he said.  "It didn't seem long
+enough to be any use by itself, but if we tie it to this mooring-rope
+it might be long enough."
+
+"To reach the ground from here?" Desmond asked him in astonishment.
+"Never!  You're dreaming, Jim."
+
+"Not from here, of course," Jim said.  "But from the end of the sail."
+
+"The sail!" Desmond echoed.
+
+"If we tie it to the end of the sail's rope, and let the mill go, we
+can swing out one at a time," Jim said.  "Bit of a drop at the bottom,
+of course, but I don't think it would be too much, if we wait till our
+sail points straight down."
+
+"But----" Desmond hesitated.  "The sail may not bear any
+weight--neither may the rope itself."
+
+"The ropes seem good enough--they're light, but strong," Jim said.
+"As for the sail--well, it looks pretty tough; the framework is iron.
+We can haul on it and test it a bit.  I'd sooner risk it than be
+caught here, old man."
+
+"Well--I'm going first," Desmond said.
+
+"That you're not--it's my own little patent idea," Jim retorted.
+"Just you play fair, you old reprobate.  Look--they keep a sort of
+boathook thing here, to catch the rope when the arm is turning--very
+thoughtful and handy.  You'll easily get it back with that."
+
+He was knotting the two ropes as he spoke, testing them with all his
+strength.
+
+"There--that will hold," he said.  "Now we'll let her go."
+
+He untied the mooring-rope, and very slowly the great sails began to
+revolve.  They tugged violently as the arm bearing the rope mounted,
+and drew it back; it creaked and groaned, but the rope held, and
+nothing gave way.  Jim turned his face to Desmond on the narrow
+platform.
+
+"I'm off!" he said.  "No end of a jolly lark, isn't it?  Hold her till
+I get on the railing."
+
+"Jim--if it's too short!"
+
+"Well, I'll know all about that in a minute," said Jim with a short
+laugh.  "So long, old chap: I'll be waiting below, to catch you when
+you bounce!"
+
+He flung his legs over the railing, sitting upon it for an instant
+while he gripped the rope, twining his legs round it.  Then he dropped
+off, sliding quickly down.  Sick with suspense, Desmond leaned over to
+watch him.
+
+Down--down he went.  The mill-arms rose for a moment, and then checked
+as his weight came on them--and slowly--slowly, the great sail from
+which he dangled came back until it pointed straight downwards, with
+the clinging figure hanging far below.  Down, until the man above
+could scarcely see him--and then the rope, released, suddenly sprang
+into the air, and the sails mounted, revolving as if to make up for
+lost time.  On the grass below a figure capered madly.  A low,
+triumphant whistle came up.
+
+"Oh, thank God!" said Desmond.  He clutched the boathook and leaned
+out, finding that his hands trembled so that the sails went round
+three times before he managed to catch the dangling rope.  Then it was
+only a moment before he was on the grass beside Jim.  They grinned at
+each other.
+
+"You all right?" Jim asked.
+
+"Oh, yes.  It was pretty beastly seeing you go, though."
+
+"It was only a ten-foot drop at the end," said Jim, casting his eye up
+at the creaking sails.  "But it certainly was a nasty moment while one
+wondered if the old affair would hold.  I don't believe it ever was
+made in Germany--it's too well done!"
+
+"Well, praise the pigs we haven't got to tackle those barrels again!"
+Desmond said.  "Come along--we'll try and find a hole in the old
+fence."
+
+They came out of the friendly shadow of the mill and trotted
+northwards, bending low as they ran; there was no cover on the flats,
+and the moonlight was all too clear, although friendly clouds darkened
+it from time to time.  It was a windy night, with promise of rain
+before morning.
+
+"Halt!  Who goes there?"
+
+The sharp German words rang out suddenly.  Before them three soldiers
+seemed to have risen from the ground with levelled rifles.
+
+Jim and Desmond gave a despairing gasp, and turned, ducking and
+twisting as they fled.  Bullets whistled past them.
+
+"Are you hit?" Jim called.
+
+"No.  Are you?"
+
+"No.  There's nothing but the river."
+
+They raced on madly, their bare feet making no sound.  Behind them the
+pursuit thudded, and occasionally a rifle cracked; not so much in the
+hope of hitting the twisting fugitives, as to warn the river sentries
+of their coming.  The Germans were not hurrying; there was no escape,
+they knew!  Father Rhine and his guardians would take care of their
+quarry.
+
+Jim jogged up beside Desmond.
+
+"We've just a chance," he said--"if we ever get to the river.  You can
+swim under water?"
+
+"Oh yes."
+
+"Then keep as close to the bank as you can--the shots may go over you.
+We'll get as near the blockhouses as we dare before we dive.  Keep
+close."
+
+He was the better runner, and he drew ahead, Desmond hard at his
+heels.  The broad river gleamed in front--there were men with rifles
+silhouetted against its silver.  Then a merciful cloud-bank drifted
+across the moon, and the shots whistled harmlessly in the sudden
+darkness.  Jim felt the edge of the bank under his feet.
+
+"Dive!" he called softly.
+
+He went in gently and Desmond followed with a splash.  The sluggish
+water was like velvet; the tide took them gently on, while they swam
+madly below the surface.
+
+Shouts ran up and down the banks.  Searchlights from the blockhouses
+lit the river, and the water was churned under a hail of machine-gun
+bullets, with every guard letting off his rifle into the stream in the
+hope of hitting something.  The bombardment lasted for five minutes,
+and then the officer in command gave the signal to cease fire.
+
+"The pity is," he observed, "that we never get the bodies; the current
+sees to that.  But the swine will hardly float back to their England!"
+He shrugged his shoulders.  "That being settled, suppose we return to
+supper?"
+
+It might have hindered the worthy captain's enjoyment had he been able
+to see a mud-bank fifty yards below the frontier, where two dripping
+men looked at each other, and laughed, and cried, and wrung each
+other's hands, and, in general, behaved like people bereft of reason.
+
+"Haven't got a scratch, have you, you old blighter?" asked Jim
+ecstatically.
+
+"Not one.  Rotten machine-gun practice, wasn't it?  Sure you're all
+right?"
+
+"Rather!  Do you realize you're in Holland?"
+
+"Do you realize that no beastly Hun can come up out of nowhere and
+take pot-shots at you?"
+
+"It's not their pot-shots I minded so much," said Jim.  "But to go
+back to a prison-camp--well, shooting would be a joke to that.  Oh, by
+Jove, isn't it gorgeous!"  They pumped hands again.
+
+"Now, look here--we've got to be sober," Desmond said presently.
+"Holland is all very well; I've heard it's a nice place for skating.
+But neither of us has any wish to get interned here."
+
+"Rather not!" said Jim.  "I want to go home and get into uniform
+again, and go hunting for Huns."
+
+"Same here," said Desmond.  "Therefore we will sneak along this river
+until we find a boat.  Go steady now, young Linton, and don't turn
+hand springs!"
+
+Within the Dutch frontier the Rhine breaks up into a delta of
+navigable streams, on which little brown-sailed cargo-boats ply
+perpetually; and the skipper of a Dutch cargo-boat will do anything
+for money.  A couple of hours' hard walking brought Jim and Desmond to
+a village with a little pier near which half a dozen boats were
+moored.  A light showed in a port-hole, and they went softly on deck,
+and found their way below into a tiny and malodorous cabin.  A stout
+man sprang to his feet at sight of the dripping scarecrows who invaded
+his privacy.
+
+South Africa had taught Desmond sufficient Dutch to enable him to make
+himself intelligible.  He explained the position briefly to the
+mariner, and they talked at length.
+
+"Wants a stiff figure," he said finally, turning to Jim.  "But he says
+'can do.'  He'll get us some clothes and drop down the river with us
+to Rotterdam, and find a skipper who'll get us across to Harwich--the
+German navy permitting, of course!"
+
+"The German navy!" said Jim scornfully.  "But they're asleep!"  He
+yawned hugely.  "I'm going to sleep, too, if I have to camp on the
+gentleman's table.  Tell him to call me when it's time to change for
+Blighty!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+REVEILLE
+
+
+It was not yet dawn when David Linton, fully dressed, came into the
+cottage garden.  The door stood open, and he kicked off his shoes and
+crept into the house.
+
+Eva sat on the floor of the passage with her head in her hands.  She
+looked up with a start as the big man came in, and scrambled to her
+feet; a queer dishevelled figure with her tousled head and crumpled
+cap and apron.  A wave of dismay swept over Mr. Linton.
+
+"Is he----?" he whispered, and stopped.
+
+The girl beckoned him into the sitting-room.
+
+"'E's never stirred all night," she whispered.  "I dunno if 'e isn't
+dead; I never see any one lie so still.  The nurse wouldn't sit there
+like a wooden image if 'e was dead, would she, sir?"
+
+"Surely not," said David Linton.  "Where is Miss Norah?"
+
+"Kneelin' alongside of 'im, same like she was when you was here.  She
+ain't never stirred, neither.  An' I'll bet a dollar she must be
+stiff!"
+
+"And Mrs. Hunt?"
+
+"She's in there, wiv 'em.  She 'ad a little sleep; not much.  No one's
+said one word in this 'ouse all night."
+
+"Why didn't you go to bed?" David Linton said, looking down at the
+pinched old face and the stooping shoulders.  He had never noticed Eva
+very much; now he felt a sudden wave of pity for the little London
+servant.  She loved Geoffrey too in her queer way.
+
+"Not me!" said Eva defiantly.  "And 'im very near dyin'.  I been
+boilin' the kettle every hour or so, but none of 'em came out for tea.
+Will _you_ 'ave a cup, sir?"
+
+A refusal was on his lips, but he changed his mind.
+
+"Thank you," he said gently.  "And have one yourself, Eva."
+
+"My word, I'll be glad of it," she said.  "It's bitter cold, sittin'
+out there."  She tip-toed off to the kitchen.  Mr. Linton stood,
+hesitating, for a moment, and then went along the passage.  A screen
+blocked Geoffrey's doorway, and he peeped over it.
+
+As he did so, Mrs. Hunt moved to the end of the bed.  Geoffrey lay
+exactly as he had been on the night before; so utterly still that it
+was impossible to say whether he were alive or dead.  Norah crouched
+beside him, her hand still against his face.
+
+Then, very slowly, Geoffrey turned, and opened his eyes.
+
+"Mother!" he said.  "Mother, I'm so thirsty!"
+
+Mrs. Hunt was beside him as his eyelids had lifted.  The nurse, moving
+swiftly, handed her a little cup.
+
+"Drink this, sweetheart."  The mother raised his head, and Geoffrey
+drank eagerly.
+
+"That's awful nice," he said.  "May I have some more?"
+
+They gave him more, and put him back on the pillow.  He looked at
+Norah, who knelt by him silently.
+
+"Wake up, old Norah--it's Reveille!" he said.
+
+She smiled at him, and put her face on his, but she did not stir.
+Suddenly the nurse saw Mr. Linton, and beckoned to him.
+
+"Carry her--she can't move."
+
+Norah felt her father's arm about her.
+
+"Hold round my neck, dear," he said.
+
+The nurse was at her other side.  They raised her slowly, while she
+clenched her teeth to keep back any sound that should tell of the
+agony of moving--still smiling with her eyes on Geoffrey's sleepy
+face.  Then, suddenly, she grew limp in her father's arm.
+
+"Fainted," murmured the nurse.  "And a very good thing."  She put her
+arm round her, and they carried her out between them, and put her on a
+sofa.
+
+"I must go back to Geoffrey," the nurse said.  "Rub her--rub her knees
+hard, before she comes to.  It's going to hurt her, poor child!"  She
+hurried away.
+
+Geoffrey was lying quietly, his mother's head close to him.  The nurse
+put her hand on his brow.
+
+"Nice and cool," she said.  "You're a very good boy, Geoff; we'll
+think about some breakfast for you presently."  Mrs. Hunt raised her
+white face, and the nurse's professional calmness wavered a little.
+She patted her shoulder.
+
+"There--there, my dear!" she said.  "He's going to do very well.
+Don't you worry.  He'll be teaching me to ride that pony before we
+know where we are."  She busied herself about the boy with deft
+touches. "Now just keep very quiet--put Mother to sleep, if you like,
+for she's a tired old mother."  She hastened back to Norah.
+
+"Is she all right?" David Linton's voice was sharp with anxiety.  "She
+has never moved."
+
+"The best thing for her," said the nurse, putting him aside and
+beginning to massage this new patient.  "If I can rub some of the
+stiffness away before she becomes conscious it will save her a lot.
+Run away, there's a dear man, and tell that poor soul in the kitchen
+that the child is all right."
+
+"He will live?"
+
+"Rather!  That sleep has taken every trace of the fever away.  He's
+weak, of course, but we can deal with that when there's no
+temperature.  Tell Eva to make tea--lots of it.  We all want it."
+
+"Thus it was that presently might have been seen the astounding
+spectacle of a grizzled Australian squatter and a little Cockney
+serving-maid holding each other's hands in a back kitchen.
+
+"I knew it was orright when I 'eard you comin' down the 'all," said
+Eva tearfully.  "No one's 'ad that sort of a step in this 'ouse since
+Master Geoff went sick.  The dear lamb!  Won't it be 'evinly to see
+'is muddy boot-marks on me clean floor agin! An' him comin' to me
+kitching window an' askin' me for grub!  I'll 'ave tea in a jiffy,
+sir.  An' please 'scuse me for ketchin' old of you like that, but I'd
+'ave bust if I 'adn't 'eld on to somefink!"
+
+Geoffrey dropped off to sleep again, presently, and Mrs. Hunt came to
+Norah, who was conscious, and extremely stiff, but otherwise too happy
+to care for aches and pains.  They did not speak at first, those two
+had gone down to the borderland of Death to bring back little,
+wandering feet; only they looked at each other, and clung together,
+still trembling, though only the shadow of fear remained.
+
+After that Geoffrey mended rapidly, and, having been saintlike when
+very ill, became just an ordinary little sinner in his convalescence,
+and taxed every one's patience to keep him amused.  Alison and
+Michael, who were anxiously watched for developing symptoms, refused
+to develop anything at all, remaining in the rudest health; so that
+they were presently given the run of all Homewood, and assisted
+greatly in preventing any of the Tired People from feeling dull.
+
+Norah remained at the cottage, which was placed strictly in
+quarantine, and played with Geoffrey through the slow days of weakness
+that the little fellow found so hard to understand.  Aids to
+convalescence came from every quarter.  Major Hunt, unable to leave
+France, sent parcels of such toys and books as could still be bought
+in half-ruined towns.  Wally, who had been given four days' leave in
+Paris--which bored him to death--sent truly amazing packages, and the
+Tired People vied with David Linton in ransacking London for gifts for
+the sick-room.  Geoffrey thought them all very kind, and would have
+given everything for one hour on Brecon beside Mr. Linton.
+
+"You'll be able to ride soon, old chap," Norah said, on his first
+afternoon out of bed.
+
+"Will I?"  The boy looked scornfully at his thin legs.  "Look at
+them--they're like silly sticks!"
+
+"Yes, but Brecon won't mind that.  And they'll get quite fat again.
+Well, not fat--" as Geoffrey showed symptoms of horror--"but hard and
+fit, like they were before.  Quite useful."
+
+"I do hope so," Geoffrey said.  "I want them to be all right before
+Father comes--and Wally.  Will Wally come soon, do you think?"
+
+"I'm afraid not: you see, he has been to Paris.  There's hardly any
+leave to England now."
+
+"'Praps leave will be open by Christmas," Geoffrey suggested
+hopefully.  "Wouldn't it be a lovely Christmas if Father and Wally
+both came?"
+
+"Wouldn't it just?" Norah smiled at him; but the smile faded in a
+moment, and she walked to the window and stood looking out.  Christmas
+had always been such a perfect time in their lives: she looked back to
+years when it had always meant a season of welcoming Jim back; when
+every day for weeks beforehand had been gay with preparations for his
+return from school.  Jim would arrive with his trunks bulging with
+surprises for Christmas morning; Wally would be with him, both keen
+and eager for every detail in the life of the homestead, just as ready
+to work as to play.  All Billabong, from the Chinese gardener to Mr.
+Linton, hummed with the joy of their coming.  Now, for the first time,
+Christmas would bring them nothing of Jim.
+
+She felt suddenly old and tired; and the feeling grew in the weeks
+that followed, while Geoffrey gradually came back to strength and
+merriment, and the cottage, after a strenuous period of disinfecting,
+emerged from the ban of quarantine.  Alison and Michael had a
+rapturous reunion with their mother and Geoffrey, and Homewood grew
+strangely quiet without the patter of their feet.  Norah returned to
+her post as housekeeper, to find little to do; the house seemed to run
+on oiled wheels, and Miss de Lisle and the servants united in trying
+to save her trouble.
+
+"I dunno is it the fever she have on her," said Katty in the kitchen
+one evening.  "She's that quiet and pale-looking you wouldn't know her
+for the same gerrl."
+
+"Oh, there's no fear of fever now," said Miss de Lisle.
+
+"Well, she is not right.  Is it fretting she is, after Masther Jim?
+She was that brave at first, you'd not have said there was any one
+dead at all."
+
+"I think she's tired out," said Miss de Lisle.  "She has been under
+great strain ever since the news of Mr. Jim came.  And she is only a
+child.  She can't go through all that and finish up by nursing a fever
+patient--and then avoid paying for it."
+
+"She cannot, indeed," said Katty.  "Why wouldn't the Masther take her
+away for a change?  Indeed, it's himself looks bad enough these times,
+as well.  We'll have the two of them ill on us if they don't take
+care."
+
+"They might go," said Miss de Lisle thoughtfully.  "I'll suggest it to
+Mr. Linton."
+
+David Linton, indeed, would have done anything to bring back the
+colour to Norah's cheeks and the light into her eyes.  But when he
+suggested going away she shrank from it pitifully.
+
+"Ah, no, Daddy.  I'm quite well, truly."
+
+"Indeed you're not," he said.  "Look at the way you never eat
+anything!"
+
+"Oh, I'll eat ever so much," said Norah eagerly.  "Only don't go away:
+we have work here, and we wouldn't know what to do with ourselves
+anywhere else.  Perhaps some time, when Wally comes home, if he cares
+to go we might think about it.  But not now, Daddy."  She hesitated.
+"Unless, of course, you want to very much."
+
+"Not unless you do," he said.  "Only get well, my girl."
+
+"I'm quite all right," protested Norah.  "It was only Geoff's illness
+that made me a bit slack.  And we've had a busy summer, haven't we?  I
+think our little war-job hasn't turned out too badly, Dad."
+
+"Not too badly at all--if it hasn't been too much for my housekeeper,"
+he said, looking at her keenly.  "Remember, I won't have her knocked
+up."
+
+"I won't be, Daddy dear--I promise," Norah said.
+
+She made a brave effort to keep his mind at ease as the days went on;
+riding and walking with him, forcing herself to sing as she went about
+the house--she had her reward in the look in the silent man's eyes
+when he first heard a song on her lips--and entering with a good
+imitation of her old energy into the plans for the next year on the
+farm.  But it was all imitation, and in his heart David Linton knew
+it.  The old Norah was gone.  He could only pity her with all his big
+heart, and help her in her struggle--knowing well that it was for his
+sake.  In his mind he began to plan their return to Australia, in the
+hope that Billabong would prove a tonic to her tired mind and body.
+And yet--how could they face Billabong, without Jim?
+
+He came out on the terrace one evening with a letter in his hand.
+
+"Norah," he said.  "I've good news for you--Wally is coming home."
+
+"Is he, Dad?  On leave?"
+
+"Well--he has been wounded, but not seriously.  They have been nursing
+him in a hospital at Boulogne and he writes that he is better, but he
+is to have a fortnight's leave."
+
+"It will be lovely to have him," Norah said.  "May I see the letter,
+Dad?"
+
+"Of course."  He gave it to her.  "Poor old Wally!  We must give him a
+good time, Norah."
+
+"It's a pity Harry's leave didn't happen at the same time," said
+Norah.  "However, Phil will be a mate for him; they like each other
+awfully."
+
+"Yes," agreed her father.  "Still, I don't think Wally wants any other
+mate when you are about."
+
+"They were always astonishingly good in the way they overlooked my bad
+taste in being a girl!" said Norah, with a laugh.  She was running her
+eye over the letter.  "Oh--hit in the shoulder.  I do hope it wasn't a
+very painful wound--poor old boy.  I wonder will he be able to ride,
+Dad?"
+
+"He says he's very well.  But then, he would," Mr. Linton said.
+"Since we first knew him Wally would never admit so much as a
+finger-ache if he could possibly avoid it.  I expect he'll ride if
+it's humanly possible!"
+
+Allenby came out.
+
+"Hawkins would like to see you, sir."
+
+"Very well," said his master.  "By the way, Allenby, Mr. Wally is
+coming back on leave."
+
+The butler's face brightened.
+
+"Is he indeed, sir!  That's good news."
+
+"Yes--he has been wounded, but he's all right."
+
+"Miss de Lisle will certainly invent a new dish in his honour, sir,"
+said Allenby, laughing.  "Is he coming soon?"
+
+"This week, he says.  Well, I mustn't keep Hawkins waiting."  He went
+into the house, with Allenby at his heels.  It was evident that the
+kitchen would hear the news as quickly as the ex-sergeant could get
+there.
+
+Norah read the letter over again, slowly, and folded it up.  Then she
+turned from the house, and went slowly across the lawn.  At the sweep
+of the drive there was a path that made a short cut across the park to
+a stile, and her feet turned into it half-unconsciously.
+
+The dull apathy that had clogged her brain for weeks was suddenly
+gone.  She felt no pleasure in the prospect that would once have been
+so joyful, of seeing Wally.  Instead her whole being was seething with
+a wild revolt.  Wally's coming had always meant Jim.  Now he would
+come alone, and Jim could never come again.
+
+"It isn't fair!" she said to herself, over and over.  "It isn't fair!"
+
+She came to the stile, and paused, looking over it into a quiet lane.
+All her passionate hunger for Jim rose within her, choking her.  She
+had kept him close to her at first; lately he had slipped away so that
+she had no longer the dear comfort of his unseen presence that had
+helped her through the summer.  And she wanted him--wanted him.  Her
+tired mind and body cried for him; always chum and mate and brother in
+one.  She put her head down on the railing with a dry sob.
+
+A quick step brushed through the crisp leaves carpeting the lane.  She
+looked up.  A man in rough clothes was coming towards her.
+
+Norah drew back, wishing she had brought the dogs with her; the place
+was lonely, and the evening was closing in.  She turned to go; and as
+she did so the man broke into a clear whistle that made her pause,
+catching her breath.  It was the marching tune of Jim's regiment; but
+beyond the tune itself there was something familiar in the
+whistle--something that brought her back to the stile, panting,
+catching at the rail with her hands.  Was there any one else in the
+world with that whistle--with that long, free stride?
+
+He came nearer, and saw her for the first time--a white-faced girl who
+stood and stared at him with eyes that dared not believe--with lips
+that tried to speak his name, and could not.  It was Jim who sobbed as
+he spoke.
+
+"Norah!  Norah!"
+
+He flung himself over the stile and caught her to him.
+
+"Old mate!" he said.  "Dear little old mate!"
+
+They clung together like children.  Presently Norah put up her hand,
+feeling the rough serge of his coat.
+
+"It isn't a dream," she said.  "Tell me it isn't, Jimmy-boy.  Don't
+let me wake up."
+
+Jim's laugh was very tender.
+
+"I'm no dream," he said.  "All these months have been the dream--and
+you can wake up now."
+
+She shivered, putting her face against him.
+
+"Oh--it's been so long!"
+
+Then, suddenly, she caught his hand.
+
+"Come!" she said breathlessly.  "Come quickly--to Dad!"
+
+They ran across the park, hand in hand.  Near the house Jim paused.
+
+"I say, old chap, we can't take him by surprise," he said.  "I was
+going to sneak in by the back door, and get hold of Miss de Lisle and
+Allenby, to tell you.  Hadn't you better go and prepare him a bit?"
+
+"Yes, of course," Norah said.  "There's a light in the study: he's
+always there at this time.  Come in and I'll hide you in Allenby's
+pantry until I ring."
+
+
+They crept in by a side door, and immediately ran into the butler.
+
+"How are you, Allenby?" Jim inquired pleasantly.
+
+Allenby staggered back.
+
+"It's Mr. Jim!" he gasped, turning white.
+
+"It is," said Jim, laughing.  He found the butler's hand, and shook
+it.  Norah left them, and went swiftly to her father's study.  She
+opened the door softly.
+
+David Linton was sitting in a big armchair by the fire, bending
+forward and looking into the red coals.  The light fell on his face,
+and showed it old and sad with a depth of sadness that even Norah had
+hardly seen.  He raised his head as the door opened.
+
+"Hallo, my girl," he said, forcing a smile.  "I was just beginning to
+wonder where you were."
+
+"I went across the park," Norah said nervously.  Something in her
+voice made her father look sharply at her.
+
+"Is anything the matter, Norah?"
+
+"No," she said quickly.  She came close to him and put her hand on his
+shoulder.
+
+"You look as if you had seen a ghost," he said.  "What is it, Norah?"
+
+"I--I thought I had, too," she stammered.  "But it was better than a
+ghost.  Daddy--Daddy!" she broke down, clinging to him, laughing and
+crying.
+
+"What is it?" cried David Linton.  "For God's sake tell me, Norah!"
+He sprang to his feet, shaking.
+
+"He's here," she said.  "He isn't dead."  Suddenly she broke from him
+and ran to the bell.  "Jim," she said; "Jim has come back to us,
+Daddy."
+
+The door was flung open, and Jim came in, with great strides.
+
+"Dad!"
+
+"My boy!" said his father.  They gripped each other's hands; and Norah
+clung to them both, and sobbed and laughed all at once.
+
+"Let me sit down, children," said David Linton presently; and they saw
+that he was trembling.  "I'm getting an old man, Jim; I didn't know
+how old I was, until we lost you."
+
+"You couldn't get old if you tried," said Jim proudly.  "And you can't
+lose me either--can he, Norah?"  They drew together again; it seemed
+complete happiness just to touch each other--not to speak; to be
+together.  Afterwards there would be explanations; but they seemed the
+last thing that mattered now.
+
+They did not hear the hoot of a motor in the drive or a ring at the
+front door.  Allenby answered it, and admitted a tall subaltern.
+
+"Mr. Wally!"
+
+"Evening, Allenby," said Wally.  "I believe I'm a bit ahead of time--I
+didn't expect to get here so soon.  Do you think they'll have a corner
+for me?"
+
+Allenby laughed--a rather quavering laugh.
+
+"I think you'll always find your room ready, sir," he said.  "You--I
+suppose you 'aven't 'eard our good news, sir?"
+
+"I never hear good news," said Wally shortly.  "What is it?"
+
+Allenby eyed him doubtfully.
+
+"I don't know as I oughtn't to break it to you a bit, sir," he said.
+"You can't be over-strong yet, and you wounded, and all; and never
+'aving rightly got over losing Mr. Jim, and----"
+
+Wally shuddered.
+
+"For Heaven's sake, man, stop breaking it gently!" he said.  "What is
+it?"  In his voice was the crisp tone of the officer; and the
+ex-sergeant came to attention smartly.
+
+"It's Mr. Jim, sir," he said.  "'E's 'ome."
+
+For a long moment Wally stared at him.
+
+"You're not mad, I suppose?" he said slowly.  "Or perhaps I am.  Do
+you mean----"
+
+"Them 'Uns couldn't kill him, sir!"  Allenby's voice rose on a note of
+triumph.  "Let me take your coat, sir--'e's in the study.  And you
+coming just puts the top on everything, sir!"
+
+He reached up for Wally's coat.  But the boy broke from him and ran
+blindly to the study, bursting in upon the group by the fire.  There
+he stopped dead, and stared at them.
+
+"Old chap!" said Jim.  He sprang to him, and flung an arm round his
+shoulders.  Then he gave a great sigh of utter contentment, and echoed
+Allenby unconsciously.
+
+"Well, if that doesn't make everything just perfect!" he said.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+ALL CLEAR
+
+
+"Kiddie, are you awake?"
+
+"Come in, Jimmy."
+
+Norah sat up in bed and felt for the electric switch.  The room sprang
+into light as Jim came in.
+
+"I had to come and bring your stocking," he said.  "Merry Christmas,
+little chap."
+
+"Merry Christmas, Jimmy dear."  Norah looked at the bulging stocking
+on her bed, and broke into laughter.  "And you a full-blown Captain!
+Oh, Jimmy, are you ever going to grow up?"
+
+"I trust not," said Jim comfortably--"if it means getting any bigger
+than I am.  But you're not, either, so it doesn't matter.  Do you
+remember all the Christmases at Billabong when I had to bring you your
+stocking?"
+
+"Do I remember!" echoed Norah scornfully.  "But at Billabong it was
+daylight at four o'clock in the morning, and extremely hot--probably
+with a bush-fire or two thrown in.  You'll be frozen to death here.
+Turn on the electric stove, and we'll be comfy."
+
+"That's a brain-wave," said Jim, complying.  "I must admit I prefer an
+open fireplace and three-foot logs--but in a hurry those little
+contraptions of stoves are handy.  Hold on now--I'll get you something
+to put over your shoulders."
+
+"There's a woolly jacket over there," Norah said.  "Let me have my
+property--I'm excited."  She possessed herself of the stocking and
+fished for its contents.  "Chocolates!--and in war-time!  Aren't you
+ashamed?"
+
+"Not much," said Jim calmly, extracting a huge chocolate from the box.
+"I lived on swede turnips for six weeks, so I think the family
+deserves a few extras.  Fish some more."
+
+Norah obeyed, and brought to light articles of a varied nature; a pair
+of silk stockings, a book on _Housekeeping as a Science_, a large
+turnip, artistically carved, a box of French candied fruit, a mob-cap
+and a pair of housemaids' gloves, and, lastly, the cap of a shell,
+neatly made into a pin-tray.
+
+"I did that in camp in Germany," said Jim.  "And I swore I'd put it
+into your Christmas stocking.  Which I have done."
+
+"Bless you," said Norah.  "I would rather lose a good many of my
+possessions than that."  They smiled at each other; and, being an
+undemonstrative pair, the smile was a caress.
+
+"Isn't this going to be a Christmas!" Norah said.  "I've been lying
+awake for ever so long, trying to realize it.  You alive again----"
+
+"I never was dead," said Jim indignantly.
+
+"It was a horribly good imitation.  And Wally here, and even Harry;
+and Major Hunt home; and Geoff getting stronger every day.  And Dad
+grown twenty years younger."
+
+"And you too, I guess--judging by what you looked like the night I
+came home."
+
+"Oh, I've got turned and made up to look like new," said Norah.  She
+faltered a little.  "Jimmy, I've been saying my prayers--_hard_."
+
+"I've done that, too," said Jim.  There was a long, contented silence.
+
+"And somehow, now, I know you'll be all right--both of you," Norah
+said.  "I just feel certain about it.  Before--ever since the war
+began--I was always horribly afraid, but now I'm not afraid any more.
+It can't last for ever; and some day we'll all go back."
+
+"And that will be the best thing in the world," said Jim.
+
+"The very best," she said.
+
+Some one tapped at the door.
+
+"May I come in?" asked Miss de Lisle's voice.  She entered, bearing a
+little tray.
+
+"You!" said Norah.  "But you shouldn't."
+
+"Bride and Katty have gone to church, so I thought I'd bring you some
+tea and wish you a merry Christmas," said Miss de Lisle.  "But I
+didn't expect to find the Captain here."  She did not wait for their
+greetings, but vanished with the elephantine swiftness peculiar to
+her; returning in a few moments with a second tray.
+
+"And toast!" said Jim.  "But where's your own, Miss de Lisle?"
+
+"Never mind mine--I'll have it in the kitchen," said the cook-lady.
+
+"Indeed, you will not.  Sit down."  He marched off, unheeding her
+protests.  When he returned, he bore a large kitchen tray, with the
+teapot.
+
+"It seemed simpler," he said.  "And I couldn't find anything smaller.
+This cup is large, Miss de Lisle, but then you won't want it filled so
+often.  Have some of my toast--I couldn't possibly eat all this."
+
+"Well, it's very pleasant here," said the cook-lady, yielding meekly.
+"I took some to Mr. Wally, but he merely said, 'Get out, Judkins; I'm
+not on duty!' and rolled over.  So I concluded, in Katty's words, that
+'his resht was more to him,' and came away."
+
+"He'll wake up presently and be very pleased to find it; it won't
+matter to him at all if it's stone-cold," said Jim.  "Queer chap, Wal.
+I prefer tea with the chill off it, myself.  Judkins has hard times
+getting him up in time for early parade.  Luckily Judkins is an old
+regular soldier, and has a stern, calm way with a young officer."
+
+"Who bullies _you_ into getting up, may I ask?" demanded Miss de
+Lisle.
+
+"I used to be bullied by a gentleman called Wilkes, in the grey days
+when I was a subaltern," said Jim sadly.  "Now, alas, I am a
+responsible and dignified person, and I have to set an example."  He
+sighed.  "It's awful to be a captain!"
+
+"It's so extraordinary," said his sister, "that I never get used to
+it."
+
+"But you never had any respect for age," said Jim, removing her tray
+and putting a pillow on her head.  "Every one finished? then I'll
+clear away the wreck and go and dress."  He piled the three trays on
+top of each other and goose-stepped from the room solemnly--his long
+legs in pyjamas, under a military great coat, ending a curious effect
+to the spectacle.  Miss de Lisle and Norah laughed helplessly.
+
+"And a captain!" said the cook-lady, wiping her eyes.  "Now I really
+must run, or there will be no breakfast in this house."
+
+Breakfast was a movable feast in the Home for Tired People, who
+wandered in and out just as they felt inclined.  Hot dishes sat on a
+hot-water plate and a little aluminium-topped table; such matters as
+ham and brawn lurked on a sideboard; and Allenby came in from time to
+time to replenish tea and coffee.  Norah and her father rarely
+encountered any one but Phil Hardress at this meal, since theirs was
+generally over long before most of their guests had decided to get up.
+On this morning, however, every one was equally late, and food did not
+seem to matter; the table was "snowed under" with masses of letters
+and Christmas parcels, and as every one opened these and talked all at
+once, mingling greetings with exclamations over the contents of the
+packages, Miss de Lisle's efforts had been in vain.
+
+"I pitied your post-lady," said Mrs. Aikman, the wife of a wounded
+colonel.  "She staggered to the door under an enormous mail-bag,
+looking as though Christmas were anything but merry.  However, I saw
+her departing, after an interval, with quite a sprightly step."
+
+"Allenby had orders to look after her," Norah said, smiling.  "Poor
+soul--she begins her round at some unearthly hour and she's hungry and
+tired by the time she gets here."
+
+"One of the remarkable things about this country of yours," said Mr.
+Linton, "is the way you have continued to deliver parcels and letters
+as though there were no war.  Strange females or gaunt children bring
+them to one's door, but the main point is that they do come.  In
+Australia, even without a war, the post-office scorns to deliver a
+parcel; if any one is rash enough to send you one the post-office puts
+it in a cupboard and sends you a cold postcard to tell you to come and
+take it away.  If you don't come soon, they send you a threatening
+card."
+
+"And if you don't obey that?"
+
+"I never dared to risk a third," said Mr. Linton, laughing.  "I am a
+man of peace."
+
+"But what a horrible system!" said Mrs. Aikman.  "Doesn't it interfere
+with business?"
+
+"Oh yes, greatly," said her host.  "But I suppose we shall learn, in
+time."
+
+"I'm going over to the cottage," Norah whispered to Jim.  "Do
+come--Geoff won't think it's Christmas if you don't."
+
+They went out into the hall.  Flying feet came down the stairs, and
+Wally was upon them.
+
+"Merry Christmas, Norah!"  He seized both her hands and pranced her
+down the hall.  "Always begin Christmas with a turkey-trot!" he
+chanted.
+
+"Begin, indeed!" said Norah, with a fine contempt.  "I began mine
+hours ago.  Where have you been?"
+
+"I have been--contemplating," said Wally, his brown eyes twinkling.
+"No one called me."
+
+"There's evidence to the contrary," Jim said, grinning.  "It has been
+stated that you called a perfectly blameless lady Judkins, and said
+awful things to her."
+
+"My Aunt!" said Wally.  "I hope not--unless you talk pretty straight
+to Judkins he doesn't notice you.  That accounts for the frozen tea
+and toast I found; I thought Father Christmas had put 'em there."
+
+"Did you eat them?"
+
+"Oh, yes--you should never snub a saint!" said Wally.  "So now I don't
+want any breakfast.  Where are you two going?"
+
+"To the cottage.  Come along--but really, I do think you should eat a
+decent breakfast, Wally."
+
+"It will be dinner-time before we know where we are--and I feel that
+Miss de Lisle's dinner will be no joke," said Wally.  "So come along,
+old house mother, and don't worry your ancient head about me."  Each
+boy seized one of Norah's hands and they raced across the lawn.  David
+Linton, looking at them from the dining-room window, laughed a little.
+
+"Bless them--they're all babies again!" he thought.
+
+The cottage was echoing with strange sounds; it might be inferred that
+the stockings of the young Hunts had contained only bugles, trumpets
+and drums.  Eva, sweeping the porch, greeted the newcomers with a
+friendly grin.
+
+"Merry Christmas, Eva!"
+
+"The sime to you," said Eva.  "Ain't it a real cold morning?  The
+frorst's got me fingers a fair treat."
+
+"No one minds frost on Christmas Day--it's the proper thing in this
+queer country!" said Wally.  "Was Father Christmas good to you, Eva?"
+
+"Wasn't 'e!  Not 'arf!" said Eva.  "The children wouldn't 'ear of
+anyfink but 'angin' up a stockin' for me--and I'm blowed if it wasn't
+bang full this mornin'.  And a post-card from me young man from the
+Front; it's that saucy I wonder 'ow it ever passed the sentry!  Well,
+I do say as 'ow this place ain't brought us nuffink but luck!"
+
+Geoffrey dashed out, equipped with a miniature Sam Brown belt with a
+sword, and waving a bugle.
+
+"Look!  Father Christmas brought them!  Merry Christmas, everybody."
+He flung himself at Norah, with a mighty hug.
+
+"And where's my Michael--and that Alison?" Norah asked.  "Oh, Michael,
+darling, aren't you the lucky one!" as he appeared crowned with a
+paper cap and drawing a wooden engine.  "Where's Alison?"
+
+"It's no good ever _speaking_ to Alison," Geoffrey said, with scorn.
+"She got a silly doll in her stocking, and all she'll do is to sit on
+the floor and take off its clothes.  Girls are stupid--all 'cept you,
+Norah!"
+
+"Keep up that belief, my son, and you'll be spared a heap of trouble,"
+said Major Hunt, coming out.  "Unfortunately, you're bound to change
+your mind.  How are you all?  We've had an awful morning!"
+
+"It began at half-past four," Mrs. Hunt added.  "At that hour Michael
+discovered a trumpet; and no one has been asleep since."
+
+"They talk of noise at the Front!" said her husband.  "Possibly I've
+got used to artillery preparation; anyhow, it strikes me as a small
+thing compared to my trio when they get going with assorted musical
+instruments.  How is your small family, Miss Norah?"
+
+"Not quite so noisy as yours--but still, you would notice they were
+there!" Norah answered, laughing.  "They were all at breakfast when I
+left, and it seemed likely that breakfast would run on to dinner,
+unless they remembered that church is at eleven.  I must run home; we
+just came to wish you all a merry Christmas.  Dinner at half-past one,
+remember!"
+
+"We won't forget," Mrs. Hunt said.
+
+Every one was dining at Homewood, and dinner, for the sake of the
+children, was in the middle of the day.  The house was full of guests;
+they trooped back from church across the park, where the ground rang
+hard as iron underfoot, for it was a frosty Christmas.  Homewood
+glowed with colour and life--with big fires blazing everywhere, and
+holly and ivy scarlet and green against the dark oaken panelling of
+the walls.  And if the Australians sent thoughts overseas to a red
+homestead--Billabong, nestling in its green of orchard and garden,
+with scorched yellow paddocks stretching away for miles around
+it--they were not homesick thoughts to-day.  For home was in their
+hearts, and they were together once more.
+
+The dinner was a simple one--Miss de Lisle had reserved her finest
+inspirations for the evening meal, regarding Christmas dinner as a
+mere affair of turkey and blazing plum-pudding, which, except in the
+matter of sauces, might be managed by any one.  "It needs no soul!"
+she said.  But no one found any fault, and at the end Colonel Aikman
+made a little speech of thanks to their hosts.  "We all know they hate
+speeches made at them," he finished.  "But Homewood is a blessed word
+to-day to fighting men."
+
+"And their wives," said Mrs. Aikman.
+
+"Yes--to people who came to it tired beyond expression; and went back
+forgetting weariness.  In their names--in the names of all of us--we
+want to say 'Thank you.'"
+
+David Linton stood up, looking down the long room, and last, at his
+son.
+
+"We, who are the most thankful people in the world, I think, to-day,"
+he said, "do not feel that you owe us any gratitude.  Rather we owe it
+to all our Tired People--who helped us through our own share of what
+war can mean.  And, apart from that, we never feel that the work is
+ours.  We carry on for the sake of a dead man--a man who loved his
+country so keenly that to die for it was his highest happiness.  We
+are only tools, glad of war-work so easy and pleasant as our guests
+make our job.  But the work is John O'Neill's.  So far as we can, we
+mean to make it live to his memory."
+
+He paused.  Norah, looking up at him, saw him through misty eyes.
+
+"So--we know you'll think of us kindly after we have gone back to
+Australia," the deep voice went on.  "There will be a welcome there,
+too, for any of you who come to see us.  But when you remember
+Homewood, please do not think of it as ours.  If that brave soul can
+look back--as he said he would, and as we are sure he does--then he is
+happy over every tired fighter who goes, rested, from his house.  His
+only grief was that he could not fight himself.  But his work in the
+war goes on; and as for us, we simply consider ourselves very lucky to
+be his instruments."
+
+Again he paused.
+
+"I don't think this is a day for drinking toasts," he said.  "When we
+have won we can do that--but we have not won yet.  But I will ask you
+all to drink to a brave man's memory--to John O'Neill."
+
+The short afternoon drew quickly to dusk, and lights flashed out--to
+be discreetly veiled, lest wandering German aircraft should wish to
+drop bombs as Christmas presents.  Norah and the boys had disappeared
+mysteriously after dinner, vanishing into the study.  Presently
+Geoffrey came flying to his mother, with eager eyes.
+
+"Mother!  Father Christmas is here!"
+
+"You don't say so!" said Mrs. Hunt, affecting extreme astonishment.
+"Where?"
+
+"I saw him run along the hall and go into the study.  He was real,
+Mother!"
+
+"Of course he's real," Major Hunt said.  "Do you think he's gone up
+the study chimney?"
+
+Wally appeared in the doorway.
+
+"Will the ladies and gentlemen kindly walk into the study?" he said
+solemnly.  "We have a distinguished guest."
+
+"There!  I _told_ you," said Geoffrey ecstatically.  He tugged at his
+father's hand, capering.
+
+In the study a great fir-tree towered to the ceiling; a Christmas-tree
+of the most beautiful description, gay with shining coloured globes
+and wax lights and paper lanterns; laden with mysterious packages in
+white paper, tied with ribbon of red, white and blue, and with other
+things about which there was no mystery--clockwork toys, field guns
+and ambulance wagons, and a big, splendid Red Cross nurse, difficult
+to consider a mere doll.  Never was seen such a laden tree; it's
+branches groaned under the weight they bore.  And beside it, who but
+Father Christmas, bowing and smiling with his eyes twinkling under
+bushy white eyebrows.
+
+"Walk in, ladies and gentleman, walk in!" he said invitingly.
+
+Wally frowned at him.
+
+"That's not the way to talk," he said.  "You aren't a shop-walker!"
+He inflicted a surreptitious kick upon the elderly saint.
+
+"Hi, you blighter, that's my shin!" said Father Christmas wrathfully;
+a remark luckily unheard by the guests in the excitement of the
+moment.
+
+All the household was there; Miss de Lisle beaming at Wally and very
+stately and handsome in blue silk; the servants, led by Allenby, with
+Con and Katty and Bride giggling with astonishment at a tree the like
+of which did not grow in Donegal.
+
+"All mustered?" said Father Christmas.  "Right oh!  I mean, that is
+well.  As you see, I've had no end of a time labouring in your behalf.
+But I love hard work!" (Interruption from Mr. Meadows, sounding like
+"I _don't_ think!")  "Being tired, I shall depute to my dear young
+friend here the task of removing the parcels from the tree."  He
+tapped Wally severely on the head with his knuckles, and that hapless
+youth ejaculated, "Beast!".  "You'll get thrown out, if you don't
+watch it!" said the saint severely.  "Now--ladies first!"
+
+He detached the Red Cross nurse from her bough and placed her in
+Alison's arms; and Alison, who had glued her eyes to her from the
+moment of entering the room, uttered a gasp, sat promptly upon the
+floor, and began an exhaustive examination of her charms, unheeding
+any further gifts.  Under the onslaught of Wally and Harry the tree
+speedily became stripped of its burden; Father Christmas directing
+their labours in a voice that plainly had its training on the
+barrack-square.  Eva watched him admiringly.
+
+"Ain't the Captin a trick!" she murmured, hugging her parcels to her.
+
+The last package came down, and Father Christmas slipped away,
+disappearing behind a screen with a flourish that revealed an
+immaculate brown leather gaiter under the cotton-wool snow bordering
+his red cloak; and presently Jim sauntered out, slightly flushed.
+
+"Oh, you silly!" said Geoffrey.  "Where _ever_ have you been?  You've
+missed ole Father Christmas!"
+
+"I never did have any luck," Jim said dolefully.
+
+
+"Never mind--he's left heaps and heaps of parcels for you.  I'll help
+you open them," said Geoffrey kindly.
+
+The gong summoned them to tea; and afterwards it was time to take the
+children home, happy and sleepy.  Jim tossed Alison up on his
+shoulder, and, with Geoffrey clinging to his other hand, and Michael
+riding Wally pick-a-back, Norah and the boys escorted the Hunts back
+to the cottage.
+
+"You're coming over again, of course?" Jim said.  "We're going to
+dance to-night."
+
+"Oh yes; we're getting a terribly frivolous old couple," said Mrs.
+Hunt, laughing.  "But Christmas leave only comes once a year,
+especially when there's a war on!"
+
+"I think she needs a rest-cure!" said her husband, knitting his brows
+over this remarkable statement.  "Come in and lie down for awhile, or
+you won't be coherent at all by to-night; Eva and I will put the
+babies to bed."
+
+"Can't I help?" Norah asked.
+
+"No--you're off duty to-night.  You've really no idea how handy I am!"
+said Major Hunt modestly.
+
+"Then we'll see you later on," Norah said, disentangling Michael from
+her neck.  "Good-night, Michael, darling; and all of you."
+
+"We've had a lovely time!" Geoffrey said.
+
+"I'm so glad," Norah said, smiling at him.  The cottage-door closed,
+and they turned back.
+
+"I've had a lovely time, too!" she said.  "There never was such a
+Christmas!"
+
+"Never!" Jim said.  "I believe that five months in Germany was worth
+it."
+
+"No!" said Wally sharply.
+
+"No, it wasn't," Norah agreed.  "But now--it helps one to forget."
+
+They came slowly across the frozen lawn.  Before them Homewood loomed
+up, little beams of warm light coming from its shuttered windows.
+Then the door opened wide, letting out a flood of radiance; and in it
+stood David Linton, looking out for them.  They came into the path of
+light; Norah between the two tall lads.  His voice was tender as he
+looked down at their glowing faces.
+
+"It's cold," he said.  "Come in to the fire, children."
+
+
+
+----------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+
+
+Notes: possible errors in original text that I have left intact and
+some notes on things that might look wrong but I think they are
+actually correct.
+
+1) reading about," said Wally.  "Do you remember, Jim, how old poor old
+   -> the first old should probably be omitted
+
+2) know I ain't one of your fine lady cooks with a nime out of the
+   -> nime occurs elsewhere in the text as well and indicates an accent
+
+3) and became extraordinarily skilful in the use of chisel and plane.
+   -> skilful with one 'l' is valid British spelling
+
+4) him to instal her before we get to Homewood on Thursday.  Hawkins has
+   -> instal with one 'l' is valid British spelling
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Captain Jim, by Mary Grant Bruce
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPTAIN JIM ***
+
+***** This file should be named 27174.txt or 27174.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/2/7/1/7/27174/
+
+Produced by Wendy Verbruggen
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.