Next morning at twelve o'clock a daintily attired damsel ascended a
dusty staircase in Fleet Street and desired to see the Editor in his
den. The dragon who guarded the fastness inquired of her if she had an
appointment, and, unsoftened by the charm of her appearance, volunteered
the information that Mr Elgood would see no stray callers.
"He will see me!" returned Margot arrogantly; and she was right, for,
to the surprise of the messenger, the sight of the little printed card
was followed by an order to "Show the lady in at once."
A moment later Margot made her first entrance into an Editor's den, and
round the corner of a big desk caught a glimpse of a decorous, black-
coated figure whom at first sight it was difficult to associate with the
light-hearted Chieftain of Glenaire. As they confronted each other,
however, the round face twinkled into a smile, which served as fuel to
the girl's indignation. She stopped short, ostentatiously disregarding
the outstretched hand, drew her brows together, and proclaimed
haughtily-"I have come to let you know that you are found out. I know all about
it now. You have been laughing at me all the time?"
"Well,--very nearly!" he assented smilingly. "You are such a nice
little girl to laugh at, you see, and it was an uncommonly good joke!
Do you remember the day when you confided to me solemnly that you had
journeyed to Scotland on purpose to stalk me, and run me to earth?
You'd have been a bit embarrassed if I'd told you the truth then and
there, wouldn't you now? And besides--I see quite enough of literary
aspirants all the year round. It was a bit hard to be hunted down on
one's holidays. I felt bound to prevaricate, for the sake of my own
peace. Then again there was George! Where would George have come in?
If I had confessed my identity, should I have been kept awake, as I was
last night, listening to his rhapsodies by the hour together? By the
way, we are going to be near relatives. Don't you want to shake hands?"
"I'm very angry indeed!" maintained Margot stubbornly--nevertheless her
hand was in his, and her fingers involuntarily returned his pressure.
"Are you--glad! Do you think I shall--do? Does he seem really
happy?"
"Ah, my dear!" he sighed, and over the plump features there passed once
more the expression of infinite longing which Margot had seen once
before, when, in a moment of confidence, he had spoken of his dead love.
"Ah, my dear, how happy he is! There is no word to express such
happiness! George has not frittered away his affections on a number of
silly flirtations--his heart is whole, and it is wholly yours. Do you
owe me no thanks for bringing you together? You wanted to help your
brother; I wanted to help mine; so we are equally guilty or
praiseworthy, as the case may be. For myself I am very well satisfied
with the result?"