“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.”