Big Game: A Story for Girls

by Mrs. George de Horne Vaizey

  CHAPTER SIX.

  A MANAGING WOMAN.

  Meanwhile Ronald and Margot were holding a conclave on the third floor."I must get away from home at once!" cried the lad feverishly. "I can'twrite in this atmosphere of antagonism. I breathe it in the air. Itpoisons everything I do. If I am to have only three more months ofliberty, I must spend them in my own way, in the country with you,Margot, away from all this fret and turmoil. It's my last chance. Imight as well throw up the sponge at once, if we are to stay here."

  "Yes, we must go away; for father's sake as well as our own," repliedMargot slowly. She leant her head against the back of her chair, andpushed the hair from her brow. Without the smile and the sparkle shewas astonishingly like her brother,--both had oval faces, well-markedeyebrows, flexible scarlet lips, and hazel eyes, but the girl's chin wasmade in a firmer mould, and the expression of dreamy abstraction whichcharacterised the boy's face was on hers replaced by animation andalertness.

  "Father will be miserable to-night because he flared out at supper; buthe'll flare again unless we put him out of temptation. He likes his ownway as much as we like ours, and it's so difficult for parents torealise that their children are grown-up. We seem silly babies in hiseyes, and he longs to be able to shut us up in the nursery until we aresorry, as he used to do in the old days. As for our own plans, Ron,they are all settled. I was just waiting for a quiet opportunity totell you. I have been busy planning and scheming for some time back,but it was only to-night that my clue arrived. Jack, my emissary,slipped it into my hand after supper. Read that!"

  She held out a half sheet of paper with an air of triumph, on which werescribbled the following lines:--

  "Name, Elgood. Great walker, climber, etcetera. Goes every June withbrother to small lonely inn (Nag's Head)--Glenaire--six miles' drivefrom S--, Perthshire. Scenery fine, but wild; accommodation limited;landlady refuses lady visitors, which fact is supposed to be one of thechief attractions; Elgood reported to be tough nut to crack; chiefobject of holiday, quiet and seclusion; probably dates two or threeweeks from June 15."

  Ronald read, and lifted a bewildered face.

  "What does it all mean? How do this man's plans affect ours? I don'tunderstand what you are driving at, Margot, but I should love to go toScotland! The mountains in the dawning, and the shadows at night, andthe dark green of the firs against the blue of the heather--oh, wouldn'tit be life to see it all again, after this terrible brick city! Howclever of you to think of Scotland!"

  "My dear boy, if it had been Southend it would have been all the same.We are going where Mr Elgood goes, for Mr Elgood, you must know, isthe editor of _The Loadstar_--the man of all others who could give you ahelping hand. Now, Ron, I am quite prepared for you to be shocked, butI know that you will agree in the end, so please give in as quickly aspossible, and don't make a fuss. You have been sending unknown poems tounknown editors for the last two years, with practically no result.It's not the fault of your poems--of that I am convinced. In ten years'time every one will rave about them, but you can't afford to wait tenyears, or even ten months. Our only hope is to interest some bigliterary light, whose verdict can't be ignored, and persuade him toplead your cause, or at least to give you such encouragement as willsatisfy father that you are not deluded by your own conceit. I'vethought and thought, and lain awake thinking, till I feel quite tiredout, and then at last I hit on this plan,--to find out where Mr Elgoodis going for his holidays, and go to the same place, so that he can'thelp getting to know us, whatever he may wish. Ordinary methods areuseless at this stage of affairs. We must try a desperate remedy for adesperate situation!"

  "I'm sure I am willing. I would try any crazy plan that had apossibility of success for the next three months. But yours isn'tpossible. The landlady won't take ladies. That's an unsurmountableobjection at the start."

  But Margot only preened her head with a smile of undaunted self-confidence.

  "She'll take _me_!" she declared complacently. "She can't refuse meshelter for a night at least, after such a long, tiring journey, andI'll be such a perfect dear, that after twenty-four hours she wouldn'tbe bribed to do without me! You can leave Mrs McNab to me, Ron. I'llmanage her. Very well then, there we shall be, away from the maddingcrowd, shut up in that lonely Highland glen, in the quaint little inn;two nice, amiable, attractive young people with nothing to do but makeourselves amiable and useful to our companions. Mr Elgood can't beyoung; he is certainly middle-aged, perhaps quite old; he will be verytired after his year's work, and perhaps even ill. Very well then, wewill wait upon him and save him trouble! You shall bicycle to thevillage for his tobacco and papers, and I'll read aloud and bring himcups of tea. We won't worry him, but we'll be there all the time,waiting and watching for an opportunity. One never knows what mayhappen in the country. He might slip into the river some day, and youcould drag him out. Ronald, wouldn't it be perfectly lovely if youcould save his life!"

  The two youthful faces confronted each other breathlessly for a moment,and then simultaneously boy and girl burst into a peal of laughter.They laughed and laughed again, till the tear-drops shone on Margot'slashes, and Ronald's pale face was flushed with colour.

  "You silly girl! What nonsense you talk! I'm afraid Mr Elgood won'tgive me a chance of rescuing him. He won't want to be bothered withliterary aspirants on his summer holiday, and he will guess that I wanthis help--"

  "He mustn't guess anything of the kind until the end of the time. Youmust even never mention the word poetry. It would neither be fair tohim, nor wise for ourselves. What we have to do is to make ourselves socharming and interesting that at the end of the three weeks he will wantto help us as much as we want to be helped. I understand how to manageold gentlemen I've had experience, you see, in rather a difficultschool. Poor father! I must run down to comfort him before I go tobed. I feel sure he is sitting in the library, puffing away at hispipe, and feeling absolutely retched. He always does after he has beencross."

  Ronald's face hardened with youthful disapproval. "Why should you pityhim? It's his own fault."

  "That makes it all the harder, for he has remorse to trouble him, aswell as disappointment. You must not be hard on the pater, Ron.Remember he has looked forward to having you with him in business eversince you were born, and it is awfully hard on him to be disappointedjust when he is beginning to feel old and tired, and would be glad of ason's help. It is not easy to give up the dream of twenty years!"

  Ronald felt conscience-stricken. He knew in his own heart that he wouldfind it next to impossible to relinquish his own dawning ambitions, andthe thought silenced his complaints. He looked at his sister and smiledhis peculiarly sweet smile.

  "You have a wide heart, Margot. It can sympathise with both plaintiffand defendant at the same time."

  "Why, of course!" asserted Margot easily. "I love them both, you see,and that makes things easy. Go to bed, dear boy, and dream of Glenaire!Your chance is coming at the eleventh hour."

  The light flashed in the lad's eyes as he bent his head for the good-night kiss--a light of hope and expectation, which was his sister's bestreward.

  Ron had worked, fretted, and worried of late, and his health itselfmight break down under the strain, for his constitution was not strong.During one long, anxious year there had been fear of lung trouble, andmental agitation of any kind told quickly upon him. Margot's thoughtsflew longingly to the northern glen where the wind blew fresh and coolover the heather, with never a taint of smoke and grime to mar its God-given purity. All that would be medicine indeed, after the year'sconfinement in the murky city! Ron would lift up his head again, like aplant refreshed with dew; body and mind alike would then expand injubilant freedom.

  Margot crept down the darkened staircase, treading with precaution asshe passed her sister's room. The hall beneath was in utter darkness,for it was against Agnes's economical instincts to leave a light burningafter eleven o'clock, even for the convenience of the master
of thehouse. When Mr Vane demurred, she pointed out that it was the easiestthing in the world for him to put a match to the candle which was leftwaiting for his use, and that each electric light cost--she had workedit all out, and mentioned a definite and substantial sum which would bewasted by the end of the year if the light were allowed to burn in hallor staircase while he enjoyed his nightly read and smoke.

  "Would you wish this money to be wasted?" she asked calmly; and thusquestioned, there was no alternative but to reply in the negative. Itwould never do for the head of the house to pose as an advocate ofextravagance; but all the same he was irritated by the necessity, andwith Agnes for enforcing it.

  Margot turned the handle of the door and stood upon the thresholdlooking across the room.

  It was as she had imagined. On the big leather chair beside thetireless grate sat Mr Vane, one hand supporting the pipe at which hewas drearily puffing from time to time, the other hanging limp and idleby his side. Close at hand stood his writing-table, the nearer cornerpiled high with books, papers, and reviews, but to-night they hadremained undisturbed. The inner tragedy of the man's own life hadprecluded interest in outside happenings. He wanted his wife! That wasthe incessant cry of his heart, which, diminished somewhat by thepassage of the years, awoke to fresh intensity at each new crisis oflife! The one love of his youth and his manhood; the dearest, wisest,truest friend that was ever sent by God to be the helpmeet of man--whyhad she been taken from him just when he needed her most, when thechildren were growing up, and her son, the longed-for Benjamin, was athis most susceptible age? It was a mystery which could never be solvedthis side of the grave. As a Christian Mr Vane hung fast to the beliefthat love and wisdom were behind the cloud; but, though his friendscommented on his bravery and composure, no one but himself knew at whata cost his courage was sustained. Every now and then, when the longingwas like an ache in his soul, and when he felt weary and dispirited, andirritated by the self-will of the children who were children no longer,then, alas! he was apt to forget himself, and to utter bitter, hastywords which would have grieved _her_ ears, if she had been near tolisten. After each of these outbreaks he suffered tortures of remorseand loneliness, realising that by his own deed he had alienated hischildren; grieving because they did not, could not understand!

  Except, perhaps, Margot! Margot, the third little daughter, whosecoming in the place of the much-desired boy had been a keendisappointment to both parents. The mother had been doubly tender tothe child, as if to compensate for that passing pang; but Mr Vanerecalled with contrition that he himself had remained indifferent andneglectful until two or three years later, when at last Ronald had madehis tardy appearance. Then ensued constant visits to the nursery, toexamine the progress of the son and heir; and after the dailyquestioning and inspection it was impossible to resist bestowing somelittle attention on the bewitching curly-headed, chubby-cheeked littledamsel who clung to his trouser leg, and raised entreating eyes from thealtitude of his knee. Mr Vane felt guiltily conscious of havingneglected this child, and now in the content of gratified ambition heproceeded to make good that neglect by petting her to her heart'sdesire, until as time went on it became an open question whether hisdaily visits were not paid even more to the girl than to the boy.Ronald remained his father's pride, but Margot was his joy, his pet,--inyears to come his comfort and companion.

  There was more of the dead mother in this last daughter than in eitherof the elder sisters; she had her mother's gift of insight andunderstanding.

  This was not the first time of many that she had crept downstairs afterthe household was in bed, to play David to his Saul, and to-night, as heturned his eyes to the doorway and recognised her slight figure, it wasnot surprise which he felt, but rather a shamed and uneasyembarrassment. "Margot! It's very late! Why are you not in bed?"

  She shut the door and crossed the room to his side.

  "I wanted to talk to you!"

  "To remonstrate, I suppose, for what I said at supper! You and Ron areangry, no doubt, and feel yourselves badly used. You have come to fighthis battles, as usual."

  "No. I don't want to fight at all. Just to talk to you a little while,and say I'm sorry."

  She seated herself on the arm of his chair as she spoke, and leant hershoulder carelessly against his; but he edged away, still sore andsuspicious.

  "Sorry for what?"

  "For you! Because _you're_ sorry. Because I knew you'd be sittingalone, doing nothing else but being sorry. So I came down to put myarms round your dear old neck, and kiss your dear old head, and tell youthat I love you. Badly!"

  Yes! Margot understood. In just such pretty simple words would his ownMargaret have chased away the black spirit years ago. Mr Vane puffedat his pipe, staring fixedly across the room, to conceal the suddenmoistening of his eyes, but his figure sank back into its old place, nolonger repulsing the caress.

  "It's a hard task for a lonely man to manage a family of children. Hegets all the kicks, and none of the thanks!"

  "That's exaggeration, dear--which you are always protesting against inothers. We are tiresome and self-willed, but we know very well how muchwe owe to you, and your care for us. It hurts us as much as it hurtsyou when we disagree; but we've got to live our own lives, father!"

  "And you imagine that you know better how to set about it than a man whohas lived more than twice as long, and has had ten times theexperience?"

  Margot hesitated.

  "In a way--no; in a way--_yes_! We know ourselves, daddy, as even youcannot do, and it is impossible for one person, however kind and wise hemay be, to lay down the law as to what is to be the object of otherlives. We all have our own ambitions; what could satisfy one, wouldleave another empty and aching. Agnes, for instance, and me! Howdifferent we are! Her idea of happiness would be a house worked bymachinery, where every hour the same things happened at precisely thesame moment, and there were never any cataracts and breaks, and nobodyever came down late to breakfast. _I_ should like to have breakfast inbed, and a new excitement every single day! We are not all cut out ofone pattern, and we are not children any longer, dear. Sometimes youforget that. When _you_ were twenty-three, you were married, and had ahome of your own."

  "Ron is not twenty-one."

  "When you were twenty-one, did you want your own way, or were youwilling for other people to decide for you?"

  Mr Vane sighed, and moved his head impatiently.

  "Here we are back again at the same old argument! It's waste of time,Margot. I can't alter my ideas, but I'll try to keep a tighter reinover myself for the next few months. We mustn't have any more sceneslike to-night."

  "No." Margot spoke as gravely as himself. "We mustn't, daddy, for yoursake as well as ours, and therefore I think it wise to remove the causeof your irritation. You said we might go away to the country together,Ron and I, and we have decided on Scotland--on a glen in Perthshire, sixmiles from the nearest station, where the landlady of a quaint littleinn takes in a few boarders. It will be very primitive, I expect, andwe shall live on cream and porridge and mountain air, and grow brown andbonnie, and study Nature as we have never had a chance of doing before.Six miles from a station, daddy! There's seclusion, if you like!"

  Mr Vane knitted his brow, uncertain whether to approve or object.

  "How did you come to hear of this place, if it is so out of the world?"

  "Jack heard of some people who like it so much that they have gone backagain and again." Margot paused for a moment, and then addedresolutely, "They go to fish. Probably they will be there again thissummer. They are two brothers--one of them is quite old. I don't knowanything about the other. Of course, wherever we stay we shall meetother people--but you don't mind that, do you, dear? You can trust usnot to associate with any one who is not what you would approve?"

  "Oh yes. I am not afraid of you in that way, and Ron is sensible enoughwhere you are concerned. He'll take care of you. I wouldn't allow youto stay at a big hotel wit
hout Agnes or some older woman, but you arewelcome to your little inn, if it takes your fancy. If it rains allday, in Highland fashion, Ronald may discover that there arecompensations even in Regent's Park. How soon are you off?"

  "The middle of June, if all's well, and we'll stay on as long as we arehappy and enjoying ourselves. Then there will be your holiday toconsider, dear. I thought it would be such a good idea if you took Jackwith you, while I went to the seaside with Edith and the boys. Jack andyou agree so well, and have so many tastes in common. You would makesplendid _compagnons de voyage_!"

  Mr Vane drew back in his chair to stare at her beneath frowning brows.

  "If there is one thing in this world more objectionable than another,it's a managing woman!" he cried emphatically. "Don't you develop intoone, Margot, if you wish to keep any influence over me. I've seendanger signals once or twice lately, and I tell you plainly--I won'tstand it! Be satisfied with what you have gained, and carry Ron away toyour Highland glen, but leave my holiday alone, if you please. I'mquite capable of choosing a companion for myself if I need one."

  "Yes, dear," said Margot meekly; but her smile showed no sign ofcontrition. She had heard this terrible indictment times withoutnumber, but as yet there had come no waning of her influence. As shefelt her way carefully up the dark staircase a few minutes later, shesmiled to herself with complacent satisfaction; for not only had theScotch trip received the parental sanction, but the first step was takentowards securing a holiday for poor tired Jack. Mr Vane might protest,but the idea once suggested would take root in his mind, and by the timethat it developed into action he would imagine that it was entirely hisown inspiration. What did it matter? For Jack's sake even more thanhis own it was better that he should be so deluded; and Margot washappily above the littleness of desiring to monopolise the credit forher ideas. So long as a point was gained, she was more than content toremain inconspicuously in the background.