Daisy's long eyelashes described a flashing arc as she swept the crown prince of the dynasty of Harrison from head to house-slippered toe. Then she turned away. Harold Harrison, as he heard her shoe-heels tapping smartly down the back stairs, grinned at his reflection in the looking-glass.
"That's putting 'em where they belong," he said; "Some kid, though, be-lieve me—some kid!"
Jean, at the big cooking range, heard Daisy come into the kitchen and thrust the broom into its holder with a rap. Then there came silence, enduring for so long that the Scotswoman glanced questioningly around. Daisy had dropped into a chair, and was sitting in a kind of brown study, finger at lip and eyes looking ponderingly out of window.
"Now, now, lassie!" said the cook, kindly; "it's nae business o' mine, likely; but this is a big hoose, an' ye canna be through reddin' up the rooms yet, an' it's nearly eleven o'clock. Is onything amiss?"
Daisy related her encounter with young Harrison.
"Ey, ey," Jean smiled grimly as the girl told her what young Harold had said about the cooking; "so he's no farin' quite as he wad at the meal-table, and would like a bit brush with me, would he? Well, I canna be aye getting' up special dishes for his lordship, so I may as weel prepare to receive him. Did he tell ye of the wee bit tiff we had ance before, him an' me? No; he didn't. Well, I'll tell ye, in a few words. He talked wi' his tongue, and I talked with the besom; and the interview juist lasted four minutes by the kitchen clock. He's no a bad lad althegither, but he needs a canny bit breakin' in."
"Well, I'm not going to bother breaking him in," said Daisy, lifting her chin, "he's not worth it."
Jean laughed. "Well, onyway," she said, turning again to her own work, "don't let him start ye broodin', so the rooms'll no be done when our good leddy goes over the huse. Ye ken weel she'd turn to and mak' up the beds hersel', sooner than raise a fuss. Lassie, lassie, speakin' about the Mistress, I'm sore worried. She's failed terrible this last month. I keep tellin' her to drink milk, but she canna keep it doon. She eats nae mair than yon dickie-bird—a great big strappin' wumman like she is—or was—too! If onything happens to the leddy o' the hoose here—guid-bye Harrisons! It's only for her sake I'm bidin' here, at the wage I get. I've got a standin' offer o' half as much agen from Lady Frances Ware—Sir William Ware's mother."
At the mention of Ware's name, Daisy gave a little involuntary start. But she did not tell Jean that she too had an offer of a position in the household of Sir William Ware.