“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.”