CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
"IN CORN."
Meantime Margot had returned to the far end of the room, and adroitlyslipped the third letter out of her pocket, feeling that it would beselfish to delay reading the contents, as they must certainly cast somelight upon the present situation. Her heart sank a little as sherecognised that the attention was less personal than she had imagined,but even so, it was to herself that the magazine had been directed, andthat was an evidence of the fact that in publishing the poem herpleasure 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 takethe liberty of calling upon you after dinner, in the hope that you maybe able to give me a few minutes of uninterrupted conversation on asubject of great importance. If you are too much fatigued after yourjourney, pray have no scruples in refusing me admission, in which case Ishall take an early opportunity of calling again; but after the strainof the past few weeks I do not find myself able to wait longer than isabsolutely necessary for an interview.
"Yours faithfully,--
"George Elgood."
"Is that from Elgood? What does he say? What does he say? Let us seewhat he says!" petitioned Ron eagerly; but Margot returned the letter toher pocket, resolutely ignoring his outstretched hand.
"He gives no explanation, but he is coming to-night. Coming to callafter dinner, and he asks me to see him alone, so I'll find out allabout it, and tell you afterwards."
"Alone!" Ron's face was eloquent with surprise, disappointment, and adawning 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 shedisappeared through the doorway. Her first impulse was, girl-like, tomake 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 footstepsascending to the drawing-room. To meet George Elgood here! To see histall dark figure outlined against the familiar background of home,--Margot gasped at the thought, and felt her heart leap painfully at everyfresh sound.
The postman, the parcels delivery, a van from the Stores, had allclaimed 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'svoice at the door announced, "A gentleman to see you, Miss Margot!" andin another minute, as it seemed, she was facing George Elgood across thelength of the drawing-room.
The roles of invalid and anxious inquirer seemed for the moment to bereversed, for while she was pink and smiling, he was grave and of aghastly pallor. Nervous also; for the first words of greeting were anunintelligible murmur, and they seated themselves in an embarrassedsilence.
"You--er--you received my letter?"
"Yes!" Margot gazed at the tips of her dainty slippers, and smiledsoftly to herself. In the interval which had passed since they lastmet, the Editor had evidently suffered a relapse into his old shynessand reserve. She had guessed as much from the somewhat stiltedphraseology of his letter, and was prepared to reassure him by her ownoutspoken gratitude.
"Yes; I was so pleased!"
He gave a little start of astonishment, and stared at her with bright,incredulous eyes.
"Pleased? You mean it? You did not think it a liberty--"
"Indeed I did not. I guessed what you had to tell me, and it made me sohappy."
He leaned forward impetuously, the blood flushing his cheeks.
"You had guessed before? You knew it was coming?"
"Not exactly, but I hoped--"
"_Hoped_!--Margot, is it possible that you have cared, too? It seemstoo wonderful to be true.--I never dreamt of such amazing happiness. Atthe best it seemed possible that you would be willing to give me ahearing. I did not dare to write, but this time of waiting has seemedas if it would never end..."
As he began to speak Margot faced him with candid eyes, but at the soundof his voice, and at sight of the answering flash of his eyes, her lidsquivered and fell, and she shrank back against the cushions of herchair. Astonishment overwhelmed her; but the relief, the thankfulness,the rapture of the moment obliterated everything else. She gave astrangled sob of emotion and said faintly--
"It--it has seemed long to me, too!"
At that he was on his knees before her, clasping her hands and gazing ather with an expression of rapturous relief. "Oh, Margot, my darling,was it because I was not there? Have you missed me? Not as I havemissed you--that is not possible, but enough to remember me sometimes,and to be glad to meet again. Have you thought of me at all, Margot?"
"I--I have thought of nothing else!" sighed Margot. She was generouswith her assurance, knowing the nature of the man with whom she had todeal, and her reward was the sight of the illumined face turned uponher.
There, in a corner of a modern drawing-room, with a glimpse of a Londonstreet between the curtain folds, Margot and George Elgood found theEden which is discovered afresh by all true lovers. Such moments aretoo sacred for intrusion; they live enshrined in memory until the end oflife.
It was not until a considerable time had flown by that Margot recalledthe events of the earlier evening, and with them still another claimheld by her lover upon her gratitude and devotion. Drawing back, so asto lift her charming face to his--a rosy, sparkling face, unrecognisableas the same white and weary visage of a few hours back, she laid herhand on his, and said sweetly--
"We went off at a tangent, didn't we? I don't know how we went off, andforgot the real business of the evening; but I never finished thankingyou! You must think me terribly ungrateful!"
George Elgood regarded her with puzzled, adoring eyes.
"I haven't the least idea what you are talking about, but what does itmatter? What does anything matter, except that we love each other, andare the happiest creatures on earth? Business, indeed! Why need wetrouble ourselves to talk about business? Margot, do you know that youhave a dimple in the middle of your cheek? The most beautiful dimple inthe world!"
Margot shook her head at him with a pretence of disapproval, smiling thewhile, so as to show off the dimple to the best advantage.
"You mustn't make me conceited. I am vain enough already to know thatyou love me, and have taken so much trouble to please me. It _was_ kindof you!"
"What was kind, sweetheart? There is no kindness in loving you. I hadno choice in the matter, for I simply could not help myself!"
"Ah, but you know what I mean! You have given me my two greatestdesires! I can't tell you how happy I was when I saw it."
He stared at her for a moment, then smiled complacently.
"You mean--my note?"
"No, I didn't mean your note. Not this time. I meant the magazine!"
"Magazine!"
The accent of bewilderment was unmistakably genuine, and Margot hastenedto explain still further.
"The new number of the _Loadstar_ with Ron's poem in it!"
"Ron's poem!" The note of bewilderment was accentuated to one ofpositive incredulity. "A poem by your brother in the _Loadstar_! I didnot know that he wrote at all."
Now it was Margot's turn to stare and frown.
"You didn't know! But you _must_ have known. How else could it get in?You must have given permission."
"My sweetheart, what have I to do with the _Loadstar_, or any othermagazine? What has my permission to do with it?"
"Everything in the world! Oh, I know exactly what has happened. Yourbrother has told you about Ron, and showed you his verses, and you putthem in for his sake--_and mine_! Because you knew I should be pleased,and because they are good too, and you were glad to help him. He islonging to come in to thank you himself. We shall both thank you allour lives!"
George
Elgood's face of stupefaction was a sight to behold. Hisforehead was corrugated with lines of bewilderment; he stared at her inblankest dismay.
"What _are_ you talking about, sweetheart? What does it all mean? Yourbrother has no need to thank me for any success which he has gained. Ishould have been only too delighted to help him in any way that was inmy power, but I have no influence with the _Loadstar Magazine_."
"No influence! How can that be when you are the Editor?"
"I am the _What_?"
"Editor! You have every influence. You _are_ the magazine!"
George Elgood rose to his feet with a gesture of strongest astonishment.
"I the Editor of a magazine! My dearest little girl, what are youdreaming about? There never was a man less suited to the position. Iknow nothing whatever of magazines--of any sort of literature. I am incorn!"
A corn merchant! Margot's brain reeled. She lay back in her chair,staring at him with wide, stunned eyes, too utterly prostrated bysurprise to be capable of speech!
Big Game: A Story for Girls Page 24