"Ronald is not an `ordinary English boy'!"
"Hoity-toity! Now she's offended!" The Chieftain looked at his
companion's flushed cheeks with twinkling eyes, not one whit daunted by
her airs of dignified displeasure. "Don't want me to say what isn't
true, do you? He's a nice lad--a very nice lad, and a clever one into
the bargain, though by no means the paragon you think him. That's why
I'm sorry to see him frittering away his youth, instead of making hay
while the sun shines. He'll be old soon enough. Wake up some fine
morning to find himself with a bald head and stiff joints. Then he'll
be sorry! Wouldn't bother my head about him if I didn't like the lad.
Have a peppermint? It will soothe your feelings."
The parcel of round black bull's eyes was held towards Margot in
ingratiating fashion. It was impossible to refuse, impossible to
cherish angry feelings, impossible to do anything but laugh and be happy
in the presence of this kindest and most cheery of men. Margot took the
peppermint, and sucked it with frank enjoyment the while she sat by the
tarn reading her letters. Having received nothing from home for several
days, the same post had now brought letters from her father, Edith, and
Agnes, to say nothing of illustrated missives from the two small
nephews. Mr Vane's note was short, and more an echo of her own last
letter than a record of his own doings.
"Glad to know that you like your surroundings--pleased to hear that the
weather keeps fine--hope you will enjoy your excursion," etcetera,
etcetera.
Just at the end came a few sentences which to the reader's quick wits
were full of hidden meaning.
"Agnes is taking the opportunity of your absence to organise a second
spring cleaning. It seems only the other day since we were upset
before. I dined at the club last night. It is difficult to know what
to do with oneself on these long light evenings.--I would run away over
Sunday, if I could think of any place I cared to go to... Town seems
very empty."
"Poor dear darling!" murmured Margot sympathetically, at which the
Chieftain lifted his eyes to flash upon her a glance of twinkling
amusement. He made no spoken comment, however, but returned to the
perusal of his own correspondence, while Margot broke open the envelope
of Agnes's letter.
Two sheets of handwriting, with immense spaces between both words and
lines--"My dear Margot," as a beginning--"Your affectionate sister,
Agnes Mary Vane," as a conclusion. Thrilling information to the effect
that the charwoman was coming on Friday. Complaints of the late arrival
of the sweep. Information requested concerning a missing mat which was
required to complete a set. Mild disapproval of the Nag's Head Inn. "I
cannot understand what you find to rave about in such quarters." A sigh
of impatience and resignation was the tribute paid to this letter, and
then Margot settled herself more comfortably on the stone, and prepared
to enjoy a treat--a real heart-to-heart talk with her beloved eldest
sister.