"What will we do if he's stiff-necked and proud, Dad?" Norah asked.

"I simply couldn't part with those babies now!"

"Let's hope he won't be," said her father. "But if the worst comes to worst, we could let him pay us a little rent for the place--we could give the money to the Red Cross, of course."

"'M!" said Norah, wrinkling her nose expressively. "That would be horrid--it would spoil all the idea of the place."

But they found Major Hunt surprisingly meek.

"I daresay that if you had propounded the idea to me at first I should have said 'No' flatly," he admitted. "But I haven't the heart to disturb them all now--and, frankly, I'm too thankful. If you'll let me pay you rent----"

"Certainly not!" said Mr. Linton, looking astonished and indignant.

"We don't run our place on those lines. Just put it out of your head that we have anything to do with it. You're taking nothing from us--only from a man who died very cheerfully because he was able to do five minutes' work towards helping the War. He's helping it still if his money makes it easier for fellows like you; and I believe, wherever he is, he knows and is glad."

"But there are others who may need it more," said Hunt weakly.

"If there are, I haven't met them yet," Mr. Linton responded. He glanced out of the window. "Look there now, Hunt!"

Norah had slipped away, leaving the men to talk. Now she came riding up the broad gravel path across the lawn, on the black pony: leading the fat Welsh pony, with Geoffrey on his back. The small boy sat very straight, with his hands well down. His flushed little face sought anxiously for his father's at the window.

Major Hunt uttered a delighted exclamation.

"I didn't know my urchin was so advanced," he said. "Well done, old son!" He scanned him keenly. "He doesn't sit too badly, Mr. Linton."

"He's not likely to do so, with Norah as his teacher. But Norah says he doesn't need much teaching, and that he has naturally good hands.

She's proud of him. I think," said Mr. Linton, laughing, "that they have visions of hunting together this winter!"

"I must go out and see him," said the father, catching up his cap.

Mr. Linton watched him cross the lawn with quick strides: and turned, to find Mrs. Hunt at his elbow.

"Well--he doesn't look much like an invalid, Madam!" he said, smiling.

"He's not like the same man," she said, with grateful eyes. "He slept well, and ate a huge breakfast: even the hand is less painful. And he's so cheery. Oh, I'm so thankful to you for kidnapping us!"

"Indeed, it's you that we have to thank," he told her. "You gave us our first chance of beginning our job."

CHAPTER VIII

a.s.sORTED GUESTS

"I beg your pardon--is this Homewood?"

Norah, practising long putts at a hole on the far side of the terrace, turned with a start. The questioner was in uniform, bearing a captain's three stars. He was a short, strongly-built young man, with a square, determined face.

"Yes, this is Homewood," she answered. "Did you--have you come to see my father?"

"I wrote to him last week," the officer said--"from France. It's Miss Linton, isn't it? I'm in your brother's regiment. My name is Garrett."

"Oh--I've heard Jim speak of you ever so many times," she cried. She put out her hand, and felt it taken in a close grasp. "But we haven't had your letter. Dad would have told me if one had come."

Captain Garrett frowned.

"What a nuisance!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "Letters from the front are apt to take their time, but I did think a week would have been long enough.

I wrote directly I knew my leave was coming. You see--your brother told me----" He stopped awkwardly.

Intelligence suddenly dawned upon Norah.

"Why, you're a Tired Person!" she exclaimed, beaming.

"Not at all, I a.s.sure you," replied he, looking a trifle amazed.

Norah laughed.

"I don't mean quite that," she said--"at least I'll explain presently.

But you _have_ come to stay, haven't you?"

"Well--your brother was good enough to----" He paused again.

"Yes, of course. Jim told you we wanted you to come. This is the Home for Tired People, you see; we want to get as many of you as we can and make you fit. And you're our very first in the house, which will make it horribly dull for you."

"Indeed, it won't," said Garrett gallantly.

"Well, we'll do our best for you. I'm so very sorry you weren't met.

Did you leave your luggage at the station?"

"Yes. You're quite sure it's convenient to have me, Miss Linton? I could easily go back to London."

"Good gracious, no!" said Norah. "Why, you're a G.o.dsend! We weren't justifying our name. But you _will_ be dull to-day, because Dad has gone to London, and there's only me." Norah's grammar was never her strong point. "And little Geoff Hunt was coming to lunch with me.

Will it bore you very much to have a small boy here?"

"Rather not!" said Garrett. "I like them--got some young brothers of my own in Jamaica."

"Well, that's all right. Now come in, and Allenby will show you your room. The car will bring your things up when it goes to meet Dad."

Norah had often rehea.r.s.ed in her own mind what she would do when the first Tired Person came. The rooms were all ready--"in a.s.sorted sizes," Allenby said. Norah had awful visions of eight or ten guests arriving together, and in her own mind characterized the business of allotting them to their rooms as a nasty bit of drafting. But the first guest had tactfully come alone, and there was no doubt that he deserved the blue room--a delightful little corner room looking south and west, with dainty blue hangings and wall-paper, and a big couch that beckoned temptingly to a tired man. Captain Garrett had had fourteen months in France without a break. He had spent the previous night in the leave-train, only pausing in London for a hasty "clean-up." The lavender-scented blue room was like a glimpse of Heaven to him. He did not want to leave it--only that downstairs Jim Linton's sister awaited him, and it appeared that the said sister was a very jolly girl, with a smile like her brother's cheerful grin, and a mop of brown curls framing a decidedly attractive face. Bob Garrett decided that there were better things than even the blue room, and, having thankfully accepted Allenby's offer of a hot tub, presently emerged from the house, much improved in appearance.

This time Norah was not alone. A small boy was with her, who greeted the newcomer with coolness, and then suddenly fell upon him excitedly, recognizing the badge on his collar.

"You're in Daddy's regiment!" he exclaimed.

"Am I?" Garrett smiled at him. "Who is Daddy?"

"He's Major Hunt," said Geoff; and had the satisfaction of seeing the new officer become as eager as he could have wished.