CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.
AN INTERVIEW WITH THE EDITOR.
Could it be believed that it was the _Chieftain_ who was the Editor,after all! That short, fat, undignified, commonplace little man! "Notin the least the type,"--so Ron had pronounced, in his youthfularrogance, "No one would ever suspect _you_ of being literary!" so saucyMargot had declared to his face. She blushed at the remembrance of thewords, blushed afresh, as, one after another, a dozen memories rushedthrough her brain. That afternoon by the tarn, for example, when shehad summoned courage to confess her scheme, and he had lain prone on thegrass, helpless and shaken with laughter!
No wonder that he had laughed! but oh, the wickedness, the duplicity ofthe wretch, to breathe no word of her mistake, but promptly set to workto weave a fresh plot on his own account! This was the reason why hehad extracted a promise that George was not to be told of Ron's ambitionduring his holiday, feigning an anxiety for his brother's peace of mind,which he was in reality doing his best to destroy! This was theexplanation of everything that had seemed mysterious and contradictory.He had been laughing in his sleeve all the time he had pretended tohelp!
George Elgood listened with a mingling of amaze, amusement, andtenderness to the hidden history of the weeks at Glenaire. Being in theframe of mind when everything that Margot did seemed perfect in hiseyes, he felt nothing but admiration for her efforts on her brother'sbehalf.
It was an ingenious, unselfish little scheme, and the manner in whichshe had laid it bare to the person most concerned was delightfullyunsophisticated. He laughed at her tenderly, stroking her soft, prettyhair with his big man's hand, the while he explained that he was abusiness man pure and simple, and had made no excursions whatever intoliterature; that the "writing" with which he had been occupied wasconnected with proposed changes in his firm, and a report of a technicalcharacter.
Margot flamed with indignation, but before the angry words had time toform themselves on her lips, the thought occurred that after all thehelp vouchsafed to her had been no pretence, but a very substantialreality. 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 desirethan that which, through the Chieftain's machinations, had already cometo pass? She lifted her face to meet the anxious, adoring gaze bentupon her, and cried hurriedly--
"He--he meant it all the time! He _meant_ it to happen!"
"Meant what, darling?"
"_This_!"
Margot waved her hand with a gesture sufficiently expressive, whereather lover laughed happily.
"Bless him! of course he did. He has been badgering me for years pastto look out for a wife; and when we met you he was clever enough torealise that you were the one woman to fill the post. If he had said asmuch to me at that stage of affairs, I should have packed up and madeoff within the hour; if he had said it to you, you would have felt itincumbent upon you to do the same. Instead, he let you go on in yourillusion, while he designed the means of throwing us into each other'ssociety. Good old Geoff! I'm not at all angry with him. Are you?"
Margot considered the point, her head tilted to a thoughtful angle.
"I'm--not--sure! I think I am, just a little bit, for I hate to betaken in. He was laughing at me all the time."
"But after all, he has done what you wished! I envy him for being ableto give you such pleasure; but perhaps I may be able to do as much inanother way. Geoff tells me that Mr Martin has had financial troubles,and there is nothing I would not do to help any one who belongs to you.I'm out of my depths in poetry, but in business matters I can count, andin this case I shall not be satisfied until I _do_."
Margot drew a long breath of contentment. "Oh, if Jack is happy, andRon is successful, and I have--_You_!--there will be nothing left towish for in all the world. Poor Ron! he is waiting eagerly to come into thank you for publishing his verse, and wondering why in the worldyou wanted to see me alone. Don't you think you ought just to read it,to be able to say it is nice?"
"No, I don't! You are all the poetry I can attend to to-night, and forgoodness' sake keep him away; I shall have to interview your fatherlater on, but after waiting all these weeks I must have you to myself alittle longer."
"Oh, I won't send for him. I don't want him a bit," cried Margotnaively, "but he will come!"
And he did!
Waiting downstairs in the study, an hour seemed an absurd length oftime, and when no summons came Ron determined to take the law in his ownhands and join the conference. The tableau which was revealed to him onopening the drawing-room door struck him dumb with amazement, and theexplanations which ensued appeared still more extraordinary.
George Elgood speedily beat a retreat to the study, where Mr Vanelistened to his request with quiet resignation. Elderly, grey-hairedfathers have a way of seeing more than their children suspect, andMargot's father had recognised certain well-known signs in the manner inwhich he had been questioned concerning his daughter's progress duringthose anxious days at Glenaire. His heart sank as he listened to thelover's protestations, but he told himself that he ought to be thankfulto know that his little Margot had chosen a man of unblemishedcharacter, who was of an age to appreciate his responsibility, possessedan income sufficient to keep her in comfort, and, last but not least, ahome within easy distance of his own.
Late that evening, when her lover had taken his departure, Margot stoledown to the study and sat silently for a time on her old perch on thearm of her father's chair, with her head resting lovingly against hisown. He was thankful to feel her dear presence, and to know that shewished to be near him on this night of all others, but his heart was toofull to speak, and it was she who at last spoke the first words.
"I never knew," she said softly, "I never knew that it was possible tobe as happy as this. It's so wonderful! One can't realise it all.Father dear, I've been thinking of you! ... I never realised beforewhat it meant to you when mother died--all that you lost! You have beengood, and brave, and unselfish, dear, and we must have tried you sorelymany times. We didn't understand, but I understand a little bit now,daddy, and it makes me love you more. You'll remember, won't you, thatthis is going to draw us closer together, not separate us one littlebit? You'll be _sure_ to remember?"
"Bless you, dear!" he said, and stroked her hand with tender fingers."It is sweet to hear you say so, at least. I'm glad you are going to behappy, and if I am to give you away at all, I am glad it is to a strong,sensible man whom I can trust and respect; but it will be a sad day forme when you leave the old home, Margot."
Margot purred over him with tenderest affection.
"How I wish Agnes would marry!"
"What has that to do with it, pray?"
"Then you could live with me, of course! I should love it," said Margotwarmly; and though her father had no intention of accepting such aninvitation, it remained through life a solace to him to remember that ithad been in the girl's heart to wish it.
Next morning at twelve o'clock a daintily attired damsel ascended adusty staircase in Fleet Street and desired to see the Editor in hisden. The dragon who guarded the fastness inquired of her if she had anappointment, and, unsoftened by the charm of her appearance, volunteeredthe 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 cardwas followed by an order to "Show the lady in at once."
A moment later Margot made her first entrance into an Editor's den, andround 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 thelight-hearted Chieftain of Glenaire. As they confronted each other,however, the round face twinkled into a smile, which served as fuel tothe girl's indignation. She stopped short, ostentatiously disregardingthe outstretched hand, drew her brows together, and proclaimedhaughtily--
"I have come to let you know that you are found out. I
know all aboutit now. You have been laughing at me all the time?"
"Well,--very nearly!" he assented smilingly. "You are such a nicelittle 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 hadjourneyed 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 andthere, wouldn't you now? And besides--I see quite enough of literaryaspirants all the year round. It was a bit hard to be hunted down onone's holidays. I felt bound to prevaricate, for the sake of my ownpeace. 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 waslast night, listening to his rhapsodies by the hour together? By theway, we are going to be near relatives. Don't you want to shake hands?"
"I'm very angry indeed!" maintained Margot stubbornly--nevertheless herhand 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 oncemore the expression of infinite longing which Margot had seen oncebefore, 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 suchhappiness! George has not frittered away his affections on a number ofsilly flirtations--his heart is whole, and it is wholly yours. Do youowe me no thanks for bringing you together? You wanted to help yourbrother; I wanted to help mine; so we are equally guilty orpraiseworthy, as the case may be. For myself I am very well satisfiedwith the result?"
Margot blushed, and cast down her eyes.
"I'm satisfied, too!" she said shyly. "Much more than satisfied--andRon is enraptured. Have you seen him? He said he was coming to see youfirst thing this morning!"
"Have I seen him, indeed? I should think I had! I thought I shouldnever get rid of the boy. I told him straight that the magazine comesfirst to me, and that not even a prospective sister-in-law--withdimples!--could induce me to accept a line for publication otherwisethan on its own merits. But the boy has power. I can't tell yet howfar it may go, but it's worth encouraging. When he gave me hismanuscript book to read I was struck by one fragment, and wrote it outin shorthand, to publish as a surprise to you both. I like the lad, andwill be glad to help him so far as it is in my power. I can give him asmall post in this office, where at least he will be in the atmosphere;but after that his future rests with himself. What he writes that isworth publishing, I will publish, but it will be judged on its meritsalone, and without any remembrance of his private associations. He willhave his chance!"
He put out his hands and held her gently by the elbows, smiling at herthe while with the kindliest of smiles.
"Now are you satisfied, little girl? From the moment that you looked atme with _her_ eyes, and asked my help, I have had no better wish than togive it. I did not set about it quite in your own way, perhaps, but theend is the same. Don't trouble any more about the lad, but let mesmooth the way with your father, while you devote yourself to George.His happiness is in your hands. Be good to him! He looks upon you asan angel from heaven! Be an angel for his sake! He sees in youeverything that is good, and pure, and womanly. Be what he believes!Humanly speaking, his life is yours, and these little hands will drawhim more strongly than any power in the world. It's a bigresponsibility, little girl, but I am not afraid! I know a good womanwhen I see one, and can trust George to your care. You will be veryhappy. I wonder if in the midst of your happiness you will sometimesremember--a lonely man?"
Margot twisted herself quickly from his grasp, and her arms stretchedout and encircled his neck. She did not speak, but her lips, pressedagainst his cheek, gave an assurance more eloquent than words.
THE END.
Big Game: A Story for Girls Page 25
