Big Game - A Story for Girls

A second time that day Margot came into close contact with Mr George

Elgood. She was strolling slowly up and down the road with "the

Chieftain," waiting for Ron to make his appearance before starting for a

ramble over the countryside, when through the doorway of the inn out

dashed the "Editor," making in the same direction, in the headlong,

unseeing fashion which was plainly a characteristic. When about twenty

yards distant, he lifted his eyes from the ground, became suddenly

conscious of the two figures slowly strolling towards him, stopped short

in the middle of the path, and, wheeling round, darted quickly in the

opposite direction.

The cut was too glaring to be ignored. Margot's cheeks flamed with

annoyance, which the sound of a low chuckle by her side did not help to

subdue. She reared her little head to its haughtiest angle, and spoke

in frosty accents.

"I am afraid I am in the way. Pray don't let me interfere with your

plans. Won't you join your brother before he goes too far? He is

walking very fast--"

There was a note of satire in the last words which made the Chieftain

chuckle once more.

"Not I," he replied easily. "I can have his society any time I like.

Yours is infinitely more refreshing. Keeps up a pretty good pace, don't

he? Scared, you know. Scared to death! Running to cover like a

frightened hare!"

"Scared of what?"

"Of you?"

Margot had known the answer to the question before she had put it, but,

woman-like, was none the less affronted. Accustomed to be sought after

and admired by mankind in general, it was a disagreeable experience to

find herself repelled by the man of all others whom she was most anxious

to ingratiate. Her face stiffened, and her rounded little chin

projected itself proudly, the while her companion looked on with

twinkling amusement.

"That makes you feel pretty mad, don't it?" he inquired genially. "You

are not accustomed to that sort of treatment. Most of 'em run the other

way, don't they? I should, in their place! But you mustn't be hard on

old George. When I said `you,' I used the word as a plural, not as

applying with any special significance to your charming self. It is

womankind as a whole which he finds terrifying. Run a mile any day

rather than meet a woman face to face! You must not imagine that there

is anything unusual in his avoidance of yourself. It's always the same

tale."

Margot paused a moment, to reflect dismally that in this case there was

small hope for the fulfilment of her scheme, then ventured the natural

feminine question-"Has he been crossed in love?"

"Who? George?" George's brother appeared to find something

mysteriously ludicrous in the suggestion, for he shook with delighted

laughter. "Rather not! Never had enough to do with a woman to give

himself a chance. He's an old hermit of a bachelor, Miss Vane, absorbed

in his work, and becoming more of a slave to it every year of his life.

Even on a holiday he can't take it easy like other folks. He has some

writing on hand just now--a paper of sorts which he has undertaken to

have ready by a certain time, and it appears to his benighted intellect

that a holiday is an excellent opportunity of getting it through. Mad,

you see; stark, staring mad, but an excellent fellow all the same. One

of the very best. I have a large experience of men, but I've never met

one to compare with him for all-round goodness and simplicity of heart.

We all have our failings, and there are worse things than a little

shyness and reserve. If he avoids you like the plague, try to pity him

for the loss it entails upon himself, and take no offence! As I said

before, it's not a personal matter. He knows that you are a stranger

and a woman, but I don't suppose he has the most glimmering idea of what

you are really like!"