Chapter XVI: Invaded

THE next morning when Ruth went, as usual, to speak to Morris about the dinner, she found the housekeeper unusually perturbed, and it did not take long for her to discover the cause of it.

The cook had just been in to say she and the other servants wished to give notice in a body because of Mala! They declined to let her share their kitchen or their meals.

Ruth felt as if the cares of the world were on her shoulders.

"What 'shall' we do?" she exclaimed, almost piteously.

She had just settled her three cousins in the dining-room with the bagatelle board, while Mala had crept upstairs in her usual silent fashion to see to her children's rooms.

Ruth had thought that she need not think about them again for an hour perhaps, and now this was worse than ever!

"I believe it often is an objection," was Morris's hardly consolatory answer; "and I am afraid, Miss Ruth, that we shall have to tell the Doctor. Something must be done, and it would be a pity to lose all our nice maids for the sake of one!"

"But my father says Mala must stay till Norman gets used to us—for ever so long, I am afraid."

Morris was silent. She shared in the trial it was to have their quiet home broken up, and she felt it keenly. All had been working so well, and they had been so happy.

"My father has enough to worry him without this," Ruth went on, looking up in her old friend's face.

"Yes, dearie," answered Morris, slowly. "I've been thinking a good bit all night of any way out of it, that is, if the Doctor does not wish to part with her, and the only way I can see is this—"

There was a momentary hesitation, and Ruth felt sure that the plan which was going to be proposed would cost Morris a great deal.

"Yes?" she said, gently.

"After all, dearie, though we don't like Mala very much at present, she's one for whom Christ died, and it doesn't do for us to despise each other. He did not wait till we were worthy before He loved us!"

"Oh, no!" assented Ruth. "And you thought—what, dear Morris?"

"I thought, dearie, that as we could not give her a sitting-room to herself—we have not one—that if the other servants will stay, I will have Mala with me."

"In here?" asked Ruth, looking round blankly on the cosy little room which had been the old housekeeper's sanctum and chief joy.

"Yes, in here," said Morris, more steadily. "I think I can put up with her and make her happy, and the question has seemed to come to me all night, 'Can you not do it for Christ's sake?'"

"Oh, Morris, dear, I do not think my father will ever allow it!"

"Oh yes, he will, if you put it before him in the right light. It may not be for very long; but, anyway, we shall do nicely. Will you go up and ask master about it, and I'll see to the dinners to-day, because something must be settled at once."

So Ruth kissed Morris affectionately, and ran up to the library with her unpleasant budget.

Her father's answer when he had heard it was very calm. "I'm not surprised," he said.

The end of it was that Dr. Brown accepted Morris's self-denying plan, "for the present," and before lunch-time, a carpet chair and a little table were placed in a corner of the housekeeper's room for Mala, and she brought down her basket and settled herself silently there as if it had been her home for years. Whenever Morris saw the black head bending over her work, or caught sight of the bright flowing garments coming and going, she said to herself, "For Christ's sake," and it was wonderful how that helped her to be not only patient, but happy.

The morning had been showery, but towards twelve o'clock, the sun came out on a refreshed and beautiful world, and Heston said he was sure Dr. Arundel would consider it fine enough to drive.

However, just as they were talking about it, the servant announced, "Mr. Vincent Linthorpe."

And there was Mary's brother with a note for Ruth, and with Mr. Brown's packet for Dr. Brown.

"Have you walked all this way?" asked Ruth, shaking hands.

"I came on Arthur's bicycle. But I cannot say I did much but walk up these hills!"

"No, indeed! It will be much better going down," laughed Ruth.

"The view is worth it all though! I do not think I ever saw finer country."

"We are very fond of it."

"Mary has sent this note, and a message to say the wagonette will be here at half-past two; will that suit you?"

"How very kind! I was planning how I could get Norman to Riverside, but have been so busy this morning that I have not ordered the fly. That did not matter, as the man who keeps them lives very near. You see, we are a little colony up here all to ourselves. A butcher, a general shop 'with candles and other pickles,' including bread! and a tiny draper's. All else we have to 'shift' for."

"What is 'shifting?'" asked Vincent, smiling.

"Don't you know? We once had lodgings at an out-of-the-way seaside place, and when the butcher did not arrive with the meat, the landlady suggested, 'Can't you shift?'"

"I see," said Vincent, laughing heartily; "but that is not pleasant if it happens often."

"But it doesn't," said Ruth; "Morris and I are far too good managers for that!"