Big Game - A Story for Girls - Page 141/145

Could it be believed that it was the Chieftain who was the Editor,

after all! That short, fat, undignified, commonplace little man! "Not

in the least the type,"--so Ron had pronounced, in his youthful

arrogance, "No one would ever suspect you of being literary!" so saucy

Margot had declared to his face. She blushed at the remembrance of the

words, blushed afresh, as, one after another, a dozen memories rushed

through her brain. That afternoon by the tarn, for example, when she

had summoned courage to confess her scheme, and he had lain prone on the

grass, helpless and shaken with laughter!

No wonder that he had laughed! but oh, the wickedness, the duplicity of

the wretch, to breathe no word of her mistake, but promptly set to work

to weave a fresh plot on his own account! This was the reason why he

had extracted a promise that George was not to be told of Ron's ambition

during his holiday, feigning an anxiety for his brother's peace of mind,

which he was in reality doing his best to destroy! This was the

explanation of everything that had seemed mysterious and contradictory.

He had been laughing in his sleeve all the time he had pretended to

help!

George Elgood listened with a mingling of amaze, amusement, and

tenderness to the hidden history of the weeks at Glenaire. Being in the

frame of mind when everything that Margot did seemed perfect in his

eyes, he felt nothing but admiration for her efforts on her brother's

behalf.

It was an ingenious, unselfish little scheme, and the manner in which

she had laid it bare to the person most concerned was delightfully

unsophisticated. He laughed at her tenderly, stroking her soft, pretty

hair with his big man's hand, the while he explained that he was a

business man pure and simple, and had made no excursions whatever into

literature; that the "writing" with which he had been occupied was

connected with proposed changes in his firm, and a report of a technical

character.

Margot flamed with indignation, but before the angry words had time to

form themselves on her lips, the thought occurred that after all the

help vouchsafed to her had been no pretence, but a very substantial

reality. Ron's foot had been placed on the first rung of the ladder,

while as for herself, what greater good could she have found to desire

than that which, through the Chieftain's machinations, had already come

to pass? She lifted her face to meet the anxious, adoring gaze bent

upon her, and cried hurriedly-"He--he meant it all the time! He meant it to happen!"