"I'm quite unable to believe it's mine," said Norah, laughing. "But I suppose that will come in time. However, there's one thing quite certain, Dad--you and I will have to get very busy!"

CHAPTER III

OF LONDON AND OTHER MATTERS

Jim and Wally dropped lightly from the footboard of a swift motor-'bus, dodged through the traffic, and swung quickly down a quiet side-street. They stopped before a stone house, where, from a window above, Norah watched their eager faces as Jim fitted his latchkey and opened the door. She turned back into the room with a little sigh.

"There they are, Dad. And they're pa.s.sed fit--I know."

David Linton looked up from the elbow-splint he was making.

"Well, it had to come, mate," he said.

"Yes, I know. But I hoped it wouldn't!" said poor Norah inconsistently.

"You wouldn't like them not to go," said her father. And then cheery footsteps clattered up the stairs, and the boys burst in.

"Pa.s.sed!" shouted Jim. "Fit as fiddles!"

"When?" Norah asked.

"This day week. So we'll have nice time to settle you into Homewood and try those horses, won't we?"

"Yes, rather!" said Norah. "Were they quite satisfied with your arm, Wally?"

"Yes, they say it's a lovely arm," said that gentleman modestly. "I always knew it, but it's nice to have other people agreeing with me!

And they say our lungs are beautiful too; not a trace of gas left.

And--oh, you tell them, Jim!"

"And we're not to go out yet," said Jim, grinning widely. "Special Lewis-gun course at Aldershot first, and after that a bombing course.

So there you are." He broke off, his utterance hindered by the fact that Norah had suddenly hugged him very hard, while David Linton, jumping up, caught Wally's hand.

"Not the Front, my dear boys!"

"Well, not yet," said Wally, pumping the hand, and finding Norah's searching for his free one. "It's pretty decent, isn't it? because every one knows there will be plenty of war at the Front yet."

"Plenty indeed," said Mr. Linton.

"I say, buck up, old chap," said Jim, patting Norah's shoulder very hard. "One would think we were booked for the trenches to-night!"

"I wouldn't have made an a.s.s of myself if you had been," said Norah, shaking back her curls and mopping her eyes defiantly. "I was prepared for that, and then you struck me all of a heap! Oh, Jimmy, I am glad! I'd like to hug the War Office!"

"You're the first person I ever heard with such sentiments," returned her brother. "Most people want to heave bombs at it. However, they've treated us decently, and no mistake. You see, ever since June we've kept bothering them to go out, and then getting throat-trouble and having to cave in again; and now that we really are all right I suppose they think they'll make sure of us. So that's that."

"I would have been awfully wild if they hadn't pa.s.sed us," Wally said.

"But since they have, and they'll put us to work, I don't weep a bit at being kept back for awhile. Lots of chaps seem to think being at the Front is heavenly, but I'm blessed if I can see it that way. We didn't have very much time there, certainly, but there were only three ingredients in what we did have--mud, barbed wire, and gas."

"Yes, and it's not much of a mixture," said Jim. "All the same, it's got to be taken if necessary. Still, I'm not sorry it's postponed for a bit; there will be heaps of war yet, and meanwhile we're just learning the trade." He straightened his great shoulders. "I never felt so horribly young and ignorant as when I found grown-up men in my charge in France."

"Poor old Jimmy always did take his responsibilities heavily," said Wally, laughing.

Mr. Linton looked at his big son, remembering a certain letter from his commanding officer which had caused him and Norah to glow with pride; remembering, also, how the men on Billabong Station had worked under "Master Jim." But he knew that soldiering had always been a serious business to his boy. Personal danger had never entered into Jim's mind; but the danger of ignorant handling of his men had been a tremendous thing to him. Even without "mud, barbed-wire, and gas" Jim was never likely to enjoy war in the light-hearted way in which Wally would certainly take it under more pleasant conditions.

"Well--we've a week then, boys," he said cheerfully, "and no anxieties immediately before us except the new cook-ladies."

"Well, goodness knows they are enough," Norah said fervently.

"Anything more settled?" Jim asked.

"I have an ecstatic letter from Allenby." Allenby was the ex-sergeant. "He seems in a condition of trembling joy at the prospect of being our butler; and, what is more to the point, he says he has a niece whom he can recommend as a housemaid. So I have told him to instal her before we get to Homewood on Thursday. Hawkins has written a three-volume list of things he will require for the farm, but I haven't had time to study it yet. And Norah has had letters from nineteen registry-offices, all asking for a deposit!"

The boys roared.

"That makes seventy-one, doesn't it, Nor?" Wally asked.

"Something like it," Norah admitted ruefully. "And the beauty of it is, not one of them will guarantee so much as a kitchenmaid. They say sadly that 'in the present crisis' it's difficult to supply servants.

They don't seem to think there's any difficulty about paying them deposit-fees."

"That phrase, 'in the present crisis,' is the backbone of business to-day," Mr. Linton said. "If a shop can't sell you anything, or if they mislay your property, or sell your purchase to some one else, or keep your repairs six months and then lose them, or send in your account with a lot of items you never ordered or received, they simply wave 'the present crisis' at you, and all is well."

"Yes, but they don't regard it as any excuse if you pay too little, or don't pay at all," Jim said.

"Of course not--that wouldn't be business, my son," said Wally, laughing. "The one department the Crisis doesn't hit is the one that sends out bills." He turned to Norah. "What about the cook-lady, Nor?"

"She's safe," said Norah, sighing with relief. "There's an awfully elegant letter from her, saying she'll come."

"Oh, that's good business!" Jim said. For a fortnight Norah had had the unforgettable experience of sitting in registry-offices, attempting to engage a staff for Homewood. She had always been escorted by one or more of her male belongings, and their extreme ignorance of how to conduct the business had been plain to the meanest intelligence. The ex-sergeant, whose spirit of meekness in proposing himself had been in extraordinary contrast to the condescending truculence of other candidates, had been thankfully retained. There had at times seemed a danger that instead of butler he might awake to find himself maid-of-all-work, since not one of the applicants came up to even Norah's limited standard. Finally, however, Mr. Linton had refused to enter any more registry-offices or to let Norah enter them, describing them, in good set terms as abominable holes; and judicious advertising had secured them a housekeeper who seemed promising, and a cook who insisted far more on the fact that she was a lady than on any ability to prepare meals. The family, while not enthusiastic, was hopeful.

"I hope she's all right," Norah said doubtfully. "I suppose we can't expect much--they all tell you that nearly every servant in England has 'gone into munitions,' which always sounds as though she'd get fired out of a trench-mortar presently."

"Some of those we saw might be benefited by the process," said Mr.

Linton, shuddering at memories of registry-offices.

"Well, what about the rest?--haven't you got to get a kitchenmaid and some more housemaids or things?" queried Jim vaguely.

"I'm not going to try here," said Mr. Linton firmly. "Life is too short; I'd sooner be my own kitchenmaid than let Norah into one of those offices again. Allenby's niece will have to double a few parts at first, and I've written to Ireland--to Mrs. Moroney--to see if she can find us two or three nice country girls. I believe she'll be able to do it. Meanwhile we'll throw care to the winds. I've told Allenby to order in all necessary stores, so that we can be sure of getting something to eat when we go down; beyond that, I decline to worry, or let Norah worry, about anything."

"Then let's go out and play," cried Norah, jumping up.

"Right!" said the boys. "Where?"

"Oh, anywhere--we'll settle as we go!" said Norah airily. She fled for her hat and coat.

So they went to the Tower of London--a place little known to the English, but of which Australians never tire--and spent a blissful afternoon in the Armoury, examining every variety of weapons and armament, from Crusaders' chain-mail to twentieth-century rifles.