Mary had been much troubled as to where, and how, she was to place this
girl. As David had boasted, she belonged to a race "who serve not." "She
may come to be mistress of Drumloch. It is not improbable. I will not make
a menial of her. That would be a shame and a wrong to Allan." She had
formed this decision as they rode together in the train, and acting upon
it, she said, "Maggie, what is your name--all your name?"
"My name is Margaret Promoter. I hae been aye called Maggie."
"I will call you Maggie, then; but my servants will call you Miss
Promoter. You understand?"
"If it is your will, Miss Campbell."
"It is my wish, Maggie. You are to be with me entirely; and they must
respect my companion. Can you read aloud, Maggie?"
"I wad do my best."
"Because I want you to read a great deal to me. There is so much fine
sewing to do, I thought as we worked together one of us could have a
needle, the other a book."
Following out this idea, she gave Maggie a pretty room near her own. Into
one adjoining immense quantities of the finest linen and damask were
brought. "I am just going to housekeeping, Maggie," said Mary, "and
Drumloch is to have the handsomest napery in Ayrshire. Did you ever see
lovelier damask? It is worthy of the most dainty stitches, and it shall
have them." Still Maggie's domestic status hung in the balance. For a week
her meals were served in her own room, on the plea of fatigue. Mary did
not feel as if she could put her with the housekeeper and upper servants;
she could not quite make up her mind to bring her to her own table. A
conversation with Maggie one morning decided the matter. She found her
standing at the open window looking over the lovely strath, and the
"bonnie Doon," with eyes full of happy tears.
"It is a sweet spot, Maggie."
"It is the sweetest spot on earth, I think."
"If we only had a view of the sea. We might have, by felling timber."
Maggie shook her head. "I dinna like the sea. 'There is sorrow on the sea,
it canna be quiet.' [Footnote: Jeremiah 49, v. 23.] I ken't a fisher's
wife wha aye said, the sweetest promise in a' the Book, was that in the
Revelations, 'there shall be nae sea there.'"
"Did you ever live near the sea?"
"Ay; I was born on the coast of Fife."
"Have you any kin living?"
"I hae a brother--he minds me little."
"Promoter, I never heard the name before."
"It is a Fife name. The Promoters dinna wander far. If my fayther hadna
been drowned, I should hae stayed wi' my ain folk."