“’Fraid not,” said Norah.
“You can’t find what doesn’t exist,” said Wally wisely. “Mrs. Atkins is only a walking cruet—sort of mixture of salt and vinegar.”
They told the story to Mr. Linton over the luncheon-table, after Allenby had withdrawn. Nevertheless, the butler, listening from his pantry to the shouts of laughter from the morning-room, had a fairly good idea of the subject under discussion, and became rather pink.
“It’s lovely in another way,” Norah finished. “For you see, I thought Miss de Lisle wasn’t human, but I was all wrong. She’s rather a dear when you come to know her.”
“Yes,” said her father thoughtfully. “But you’ll have to be careful, Norah; you mustn’t make any distinctions between her and Mrs. Atkins. It doesn’t matter if Miss de Lisle’s pedigree is full of dukes and bishops—Mrs. Atkins is the upper servant, and she’ll resent it if you put Miss de Lisle on a different footing to herself.”
“Yes, I see,” said Norah, nodding. “I’ll do my best, Dad.”
Miss de Lisle, however, played the game. She did not encounter Norah often, and when she did it was in Mrs. Atkins’ presence: and on these occasions she maintained an attitude of impersonal politeness which made it hard to realize that she and the butler had indeed bathed together on the floor of the cottage. She found various matters in her little sitting-room: an easy-chair, a flowering pot-plant, a pile of books that bore Norah’s name—or Jim’s; but she made no sign of having received them except that Norah found on her table at night a twisted note in a masculine hand that said “Thank you.—C. de L.” As for Mrs. Atkins, she made her silent way about the house, sour and watchful, her green eyes rather resembling those of a cat, and her step as stealthy. Norah tried hard to talk to her on other matters than housekeeping, but found her so stolidly unresponsive that at last she gave up the attempt. Life, as she said to Wally, was too short to woo a cruet-stand!
The week flew by swiftly, every moment busy with work and plans for the Tired People to come. Mrs. Atkins, it was plain, did not like the scheme. She mentioned that it would make a great deal of work, and how did Norah expect servants in these days to put up with unexpected people coming at all sorts of hours?
“But,” said Norah, “that’s what the house is for. My father and I would not want a houseful of servants if we didn’t mean to have a houseful of people. What would we do with you all?” At which Mrs. Atkins sniffed, and replied haughtily that she had been in a place where there was only one lady, and she kept eleven servants.
“More shame for her,” said Norah. “Anyhow, we explained it all to you when we engaged you, Mrs. Atkins. If we weren’t going to have people here we should still be living in London, in a flat. And if the servants won’t do their work, we shall just have to get others who will.” Which was a terrible effort of firmness for poor Norah, who inwardly hoped that Mrs. Atkins did not realize that she was shaking in her shoes!