Big Game - A Story for Girls

There she sat upon the low fender-stool, the big white apron concealing

the blue tweed dress, her pretty, flushed face bent over her work, to

all appearances the most industrious of Cinderellas, while the pendulum

of the old oak clock clicked noisily to and fro, and through the open

door came a whiff of clean cool air, laden with the scent of flowers and

sweet-briar, with the pungent aromatic odour of growing herbs, with the

heavy sweetness of the dairy.

Margot thought with a shudder of the gloomy underground regions in

Regent's Park, where the servants of the house spent the greater part of

their lives. In her own future spells of authority she determined to be

very, very indulgent to pleas for "outings"; nay, even to make it a

matter of duty to plan days of sunshine and liberty for the patient,

uncomplaining workers.

The sun was beginning to peep forth from behind the clouds, and its rays

dancing across the kitchen floor were an almost irresistible temptation

to one newly escaped from town. Margot gave the basket an impatient

shake, and, as another means to the desired end, popped a couple of

berries into her mouth. So sweet did they taste, so fresh and ripe,

that another two soon followed suit, and henceforth she ate as steadily

as she worked. There could be no hesitation in so doing, for in fruit-

picking it is an unwritten law that the worker is free to take his toll.

It was while Margot's hand was raised to her mouth for the eighth or

ninth time that a footstep sounded on the flagged floor of the scullery

behind her back, and a man's voice and laugh startled her into vivid

attention. In both was a note which immediately recalled her companion

of the night before,--the cheery, warm-hearted pseudo-chieftain of the

Glen--yet in both rang a difference which told that the newcomer was not

he, but probably one closely connected by birth and association.

The Mr Elgood; the Editor; the all-powerful dispenser of Ronald's

fortunes! Margot felt convinced that it could be no one else, and

experienced a moment of keen anticipation, followed by a shock of

disgust, as she grasped the meaning of his words.

"Ah-ha! So I've caught you pilfering again. What will Mrs McNab say

when she finds all her good fruit disappearing like this? You'll have

to bribe me not to carry tales. Better turn me into a confederate--eh?

Are they ripe?"

A long thin hand descended over Margot's shoulder, the fingers

deliberately feeling after the plumpest and yellowest of the berries.

He had mistaken her for Elspeth! Stupefaction mingled with

wrath,--Elspeth! A vision of the square-built, flat-headed,

hopelessly graceless figure rose before Margot's outraged vision, and

resentment lighted into a blaze. Could any apron in the world be large

enough to cause a resemblance between two such diametrically different

figures! Margot appreciated her own beauty in an honest, unaffected

fashion, as one of the good gifts which had been showered upon her, and

for the moment the sense of injury eclipsed that of embarrassment.