Norah hung up the receiver, and stood pondering. She wished the telephone had not chosen to behave so abominably; only the day before Wally had rung her up and had spent quite half an hour in talking cheerful nonsense, without any hindrance at all. Norah wished she knew a little more about her new “case”; if he were very weak—if special food were needed. It was very provoking. Also, there was Mrs. Atkins to be faced—not a prospect to be put off, since, like taking Gregory’s Powder, the more you looked at it the worse it got. Norah stiffened her shoulders and marched off to the housekeeper’s room.
“Oh, Mrs. Atkins,” she said pleasantly, “there’s another officer coming this evening.”
Mrs. Atkins turned, cold surprise in her voice.
“Indeed, miss. And will that be all, do you think?”
“I really don’t know,” said Norah recklessly. “That depends on my father, you see.”
“Oh. May I ask which room is to be prepared?”
“The one next Captain Garrett’s, please. I can do it, if the maids are too busy.”
Mrs. Atkins froze yet more.
“I should very much rather you did not, miss, thank you,” she said.
“Just as you like,” said Norah. “Con can take a message for anything you want; he is going to the station.”