Big Game - A Story for Girls

Meantime Margot had returned to the far end of the room, and adroitly

slipped the third letter out of her pocket, feeling that it would be

selfish to delay reading the contents, as they must certainly cast some

light upon the present situation. Her heart sank a little as she

recognised that the attention was less personal than she had imagined,

but even so, it was to herself that the magazine had been directed, and

that was an evidence of the fact that in publishing the poem her

pleasure had been considered even more than Ronald's advancement.

She tore open the stiff white envelope and read as follows:-"Dear Miss Vane,-"I hear that you are to arrive home this afternoon, and intend to take

the liberty of calling upon you after dinner, in the hope that you may

be able to give me a few minutes of uninterrupted conversation on a

subject of great importance. If you are too much fatigued after your

journey, pray have no scruples in refusing me admission, in which case I

shall take an early opportunity of calling again; but after the strain

of the past few weeks I do not find myself able to wait longer than is

absolutely necessary for an interview.

"Yours faithfully,-"George Elgood."

"Is that from Elgood? What does he say? What does he say? Let us see

what he says!" petitioned Ron eagerly; but Margot returned the letter to

her pocket, resolutely ignoring his outstretched hand.

"He gives no explanation, but he is coming to-night. Coming to call

after dinner, and he asks me to see him alone, so I'll find out all

about it, and tell you afterwards."

"Alone!" Ron's face was eloquent with surprise, disappointment, and a

dawning suspicion. "Why alone? It's more my affair than yours. I

must thank him before he goes."

"I'll send for you, then. I suppose he wants to explain to me first.

I'll be sure to send for you!" reiterated Margot hurriedly, as she

disappeared through the doorway. Her first impulse was, girl-like, to

make for her own room, to give those final touches to hair and dress,

which are so all-important in effect, and that done, to sit alone,

listening for the expected knock at the door, the sound of footsteps

ascending to the drawing-room. To meet George Elgood here! To see his

tall dark figure outlined against the familiar background of home,--

Margot gasped at the thought, and felt her heart leap painfully at every

fresh sound.

The postman, the parcels delivery, a van from the Stores, had all

claimed the tribute of a blush, a gasp, and a fresh rush to the glass,

before at last slow footsteps were heard mounting the stairs, and Mary's

voice at the door announced, "A gentleman to see you, Miss Margot!" and

in another minute, as it seemed, she was facing George Elgood across the

length of the drawing-room.