“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.”