Big Game - A Story for Girls - Page 128/145

At this there was a quick rustle of the bedclothes.

"Going? Where?" asked a startled voice, in which sounded an

uncontrollable quiver of apprehension. "Not away for altogether?"

"Yes! Their time was up three days ago. It is awfully decent of them

to have stayed on for so long. We shall meet in town, I suppose; but

your Editor man is no use to me, Margot. That little scheme has fallen

flat. From first to last he has never troubled to show the faintest

interest in my existence, and has avoided the governor all he knew. The

Chieftain is worth a dozen of him. He has kept the whole thing going

this last week, amused the governor, looked after Edith, been a perfect

brick to me. I'm glad we came, if it were only for the sake of making

his acquaintance, for he is the grandest man I've ever known; but your

scheme has failed, old girl."

From Margot's expression it would appear that everything on earth had

failed. Her face looked as white as the pillow against which she

rested, and her eyes were tragic in her despairing sadness. Ron

bestirred himself to comfort her, full of gratitude for so heartfelt an

interest.

"Never mind! You did your best, and it's nobody's fault that he turned

out such a Diogenes. The governor has been awfully decent since he came

up, and I don't despair of getting the time extended. He is much more

amenable, apart from Agnes, and I fancy the Chieftain puts in a good

word for me now and then--not on the score of literature, of course--but

after they have been talking together, the governor always seems to look

upon me with more--more respect, don't you know, and less as if I were

a hopeless failure, of whom he was more or less ashamed. That's a gain

in itself, isn't it?"

"'Um!" assented Margot vaguely. "I suppose they drive over to catch the

evening express? Did he--they--say anything about me?"

Ron started in surprise.

"My dear girl, we have talked of nothing else but you, for the last

week! Pulse, temperature, sleep; sleep, temperature, pulse; every hour

the same old tale. You have given us all a rare old fright; but thank

goodness you are on the mend at last. The doctor says it is only a

matter of time."

"Did--they--send any message?"

"No! Edie said you were not to be excited. Awfully sorry to miss

saying good-bye, and that sort of thing, but hope to meet you another

day in town."