“Easier said than done, in war-time,” said the housekeeper morosely. “Servants don’t grow on gooseberry-bushes now, and what they don’t expect——! Well, I don’t know what the world’s coming to.” But Norah, feeling unequal to more, fled, and, being discovered by Wally and Jim with her head in her hands over an account-book, was promptly taken out on Killaloe—the boys riding the cobs, which they untruthfully persisted that they preferred.
Then came Tuesday morning: with early breakfast, and the boys once more in khaki, and Jones, in the carriage, keeping the browns moving in the chill air. Not such a hard parting as others they had known since for the present there was no anxiety: but from the days when Jim used to leave Billabong for his Melbourne boarding-school, good-bye morning had been a difficult one for the Lintons. They joked through it in their usual way: it was part of the family creed to keep the flag flying.
“Well, you may have us back at any time as your first Tired People,” said Wally, his keen face looking as though it never could grow weary. “Machine-gun courses must be very fatiguing, don’t you think, Jim?”
“Poor dears!” said Norah feelingly. “We’ll have a special beef-tea diet for you, and bath-chairs. Will they send you in an ambulance?”
“Very likely, and then you’ll be sorry you were so disrespectful, won’t she, Mr. Linton?”
“I’m afraid you can’t count on it,” said that gentleman, laughing. “Norah’s bump of respect isn’t highly developed, even for me. You’ll write soon, Jim, and tell us how you get on—and what your next movements are.”
“Rather,” answered Jim. “Don’t let the lady of the house wear off all her curls over the accounts, will you, Dad? I’d hate to see her bald!”
“I’ll keep an eye on her,” said his father. “Now, boys; it’s time you were off.”
They shook hands with Allenby, to his secret gratification. He closed the carriage door upon them, and stood back at attention, as they drove off. From an upper window—unseen, unfortunately—a figure in a red overall leaned, waving a handkerchief.
The train was late, and they all stamped about the platform—it was a frosty morning.