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.

"And their names are Bride Kelly and Katty O'Gorman; doesn't that
bring Killard and brown bogs back to you? And--oh, by Jove!"

"What is it?" demanded his family, in unison.

"This is what it is. 'I don't know would your honour remember Con
Hegarty, that was shofer to Sir John at Rathcullen, and a decent boy
with one leg and he after coming back from the war. He have no job
since Sir John died, and he bid me tell you he'd be proud to drive a
car for you, and to be with ye all. And if he have only one leg
itself he's as handy as any one with two or more. Sir John had him
with him at Homewood, and he knows the car that's there, and 'tis the
way if you had a job for him he could take the two girls over when he
went, and he used to trave