She showed us her pretty little house and her lovely work—embroidery. "I'm so fortunate," she said, "loving home as I do, to have work that's just as well done here."
I learned that there were some thirty families living in the grounds, not counting the hotel people. Quite a number found their work in the necessary activities of the place itself.
"We have a long string of places, you see—from the general manager to the gardeners and dairymen. It is really quite a piece of work, to care for some two hundred and fifty people," Mrs. Masson explained with some pride.
"Instead of a horde of servants and small tradesmen to make a living off these thirty families, we have a small corps of highly trained officers," added Nellie.
"And do you co-operate in housekeeping?" I inquired, meaning no harm, though my sister was quite severe with me for this slip.
"No, indeed," protested Mrs. Masson. "I do despise being mixed up with other families. I've been here nearly a year, and I hardly know anyone." And she rocked back and forth, complacently.
"But I thought that the meals were co-operative."
"O, not at all—not at all! Just see my dining-room! And you must be tired and hungry, now, Mrs. Robertson—don't say no! I'll have lunch in a moment. Excuse me, please."
She retired to the telephone, but we could hear her ordering lunch. "Right away, please; No. 5; no, let me see—No. 7, please. And have you fresh mushrooms? Extra; four plates."
Her husband came home in time for the meal, and she presided just like any other little matron over a pretty table and a daintily served lunch; but it came down from the hotel in a neat, light case, to which the remnants and the dishes were returned.