Big Game - A Story for Girls

Margot thrust her head out of the window, forgetful of cold and fatigue.

What joy to think of waking up every morning for a month to a scene

like this! Thirty mornings, and on every one of them the sun would

shine, and the air blow clear and sweet. She would put on her thick,

nailed boots, and clamber up the glen, to see what lay at the other side

of the pass; she would take her sketching materials, and sit on that

sunny knoll, trying to make some sort of a picture to send home to the

poor father in his smoky prison-house. On hot days she would wade in

the cool grey tarn...

The little maid was knocking at the door, and announcing that tea was

ready, while Margot was still weaving her rose-coloured dreams. It was

a cold douche in more ways than one, to return to the depressing

atmosphere of the dining-room, but the meal itself was tempting and

plentiful. Scones and toast, eggs and strawberry-jam, besides the solid

flank of ham, and, better than all, plenty of delicious cream and fresh

butter.

Margot poured out tea for herself and Ron, and, taking the hot-water-jug

on her knee, warmed her numbed hands on it as she ate. For the first

five or ten minutes no time was wasted in talking; then, the first pangs

of hunger being appeased, the two young people began to compare

impressions.

"Do you suppose this is the only sitting-room? Do you suppose we shall

have to sit here in the evenings and when it rains? Fancy a long wet

day, Ron, shining on horsehair chairs, with your feet on an oil-clothed

floor, gazing at funeral cards! I should go to bed!"

"It wouldn't be a bad idea. Rest cure, you know! If we are very

energetic in fine weather, we may be glad of a rest; but there is

another room. I caught sight of a sanctuary filled with woollen mats

and wax flowers, with a real live piano in the corner. `The best

parlour,' I should say, and the pride of Mrs McNab's heart. I don't

know if she will allow you to enter."

"She will; but she won't have a fire. It has been spring-cleaned, and

has a waterfall of green paper in the grate--I can see it all!" Margot

declared, with a shudder. She hugged the hot-water-jug still closer,

and shivered expressively. "I shall be obliged to raid the kitchen--

there's nothing else for it!"

"You daren't!"

Margot laughed derisively, but her answer was checked by the sudden

appearance of a man's figure pacing slowly past the window. Brother and

sister sprang from their chairs, with a simultaneous impulse, rushed

across the room, and crouched behind the moreen curtains. "Is it?" they

queried breathlessly of each other--"Mr Elgood? Can it be?"