“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?”