The next day, and every day afterward for a week, she went to Mrs.
Lauder's on some pretext or other. She always saw Maggie. She made little
plans to see her, and she went away from every interview feeling a greater
bondage to her. "I suppose I shall have to take her back to Drumloch with
me!" As her visit to Glasgow drew to its close she came to this
conclusion. She felt that for Allan's sake Maggie had a claim on their
care; either John Campbell or herself ought to find out if she needed help
or friends, and after consideration Mary thought she had better assume the
charge. John Campbell would go straight to her, tell her who he was, and
invite her to Blytheswood Square, and, in fact, take the girl wholly on
trust. Mary also meant to be kind to her, but how hard it is for a woman
to do a kindness as God does it, without saying, "Whose son art thou?"
Just before her return to Drumloch, she said to Mrs. Lauder, "I want some
one to sew in my house. Do you think Maggie would give me a couple of
months. You cannot need her until September."
"I think she will be very willing. I will send her to you."
"Mistress Lauder says you wad like me to go wi' you, Miss Campbell. I'll
be glad to do it. I am just wearying for the country, and I'll do my best
to pleasure you."
"Oh, thank you. It is to sew table damask. I will give you. £5 a month."
"That is gude pay. I'll be gratefu' for it."
"Be ready by nine o'clock to-morrow morning. I will call here for you."
Drumloch was a very ancient place. The older portion was battlemented, and
had been frequently held against powerful enemies; but this part of the
building was merely the nucleus of many more modern additions. It stood in
one of the loveliest locations in Ayrshire, and was in every respect a
home of great splendor and beauty. Maggie had never dreamt of such a
place. The lofty halls and rooms, the wide stairways, the picturesque air
of antiquity, the fine park and gardens, the wealth of fruits and flowers
quite bewildered her. Mary took her first real liking to the girl as she
wandered with her through the pleasant places of Drumloch. Maggie said so
frankly what she liked and what she did not like; and yet she had much
graceful ingenuousness, and extremely delicate perceptions. Often she
showed the blank amazement of a bird that has just left the nest, again
she would utter some keen, deep saying, that made Mary turn to her with
curious wonder. Individualities developed by the Bible have these strange
contradictions, because to great guilelessness they unite an intimate
knowledge of their own hearts.