Being a prudent damsel, and wise in her day and generation, Margot set
before herself the subjugation of Mrs McNab as her first duty in
Glenaire. To this end she repaired to her bedroom after breakfast on
the morning after her arrival, made her bed, carefully put away every
article of clothing, and tidied the oddments on the dressing-table; went
through the same performance in Ron's little crib adjoining her own, and
sailed downstairs in a glow of virtuous satisfaction.
Mrs McNab had apparently only one maid to help her to attend to her
eight guests and to keep the inn in its present condition of immaculate
order and cleanliness, though a shaggy-headed man--presumably the master
of the house--could be seen through the staircase window, meekly
brushing boots, and cleaning knives in a corner of the flagged yard. He
had a small, wizened face, to which the unkempt hair, tufted eyebrows,
and straggling whiskers gave a strong resemblance to a Skye terrier dog.
Margot watched him now and then for a minute or two as she passed up
and down, and heard him speaking once or twice, but he "had the Gaelic,"
and the sing-song voice and mysterious words sounded weirdly in her
ears. Sometimes, as he put the final polish on the boots, he would
break into song,--a strange, tuneless song which quavered up and down,
and ended on long-sustained notes. Once even she saw the slippered feet
move in jaunty dance-step to and fro, but at the sound of a clatter of
saucepans from the kitchen close at hand he retired into his corner, and
polished with redoubled energy. Mrs McNab evidently kept her husband
in order, even as she did her house!
Elspeth, the maid, was a girl of eighteen or twenty, with a thin figure
encased in a lavender print gown, and flaxen hair pulled so tightly back
from her forehead that her eyebrows seemed to be permanently elevated by
the process. Her face shone from the effects of constant soaping, and
was absolutely void of expression. From morn till night she rushed
breathlessly from one duty to another, rated continuously by Mrs
McNab's strident voice, with never so much as a bleat of protest. When
waiting at table, she snored loudly from nervousness, and the big red
fist trembled as she carried the dishes to and fro, but her face
remained blankly expressionless as before. Margot smiled at her
radiantly every time that they met, and mentally decided to bequeath to
her half her own wardrobe before leaving the Glen. In comparison with
such a lot of drudgery, her own life seemed inexcusably idle and self-
indulgent!
It took a considerable amount of courage to beard in her own den a woman
of whom the members of her own household stood in such evident awe, but
there was at least no nervousness apparent in Margot's manner as she
tapped at the kitchen door at eleven o'clock that first morning, and
thrust her pretty face round the opening to request permission to enter.
Mrs McNab had descended from her work upstairs, and surely her heart
must be softened by the spectacle of those two immaculately tidy rooms!