“Yes,” answered the other. “It is more and more difficult to find a respectable woman, and what I am to do now, I do not know. Do without, I suppose.”
“I hope it is not as bad as all that,” said Ormarr. “The work is not so very hard, I take it, and there are generally plenty of girls willing enough to take an easy post. I have an idea, by the way, that the widow there would like her daughter to go out into the world a little; if you like, I could speak to her about it.”
The doctor was profuse in his thanks.
Then they changed the subject, and, whipping up their horses, rejoined the rest.
Later in the day Ormarr spoke to the widow.
“The doctor is in want of a housekeeper,” he said. “What do you think?—would Snebiorg like to undertake the work?”
The widow looked at him searchingly.
“Bagga—housekeeper at the doctor’s?” she said harshly. “Never! Never as long as I live!”
“Why not?” asked Ormarr quietly.
“You know well enough what is said about him.”