“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.