So to Gretta’s share fell the retelling of the story. She repeated it as carefully as she could. “And the trap’s gone, and Margot’s gone; and we are sure that Sybil went to the ‘Little House,’” she concluded. “Most likely because of the bravery prize, you know; and as the old man is mad, Stella says, and Sybil doesn’t know he is, she’s sure to be terrified. That’s why Margot went. We hoped you’d meet her, auntie, as you came.”
“Margot’s far too quick in making up her mind,” said Margot’s mother. “Gretta, come with me; we’ll go straight to Miss Slater’s room. I have been with her for nearly an hour, as we had something very important to talk over, and I must have arrived some little while before Margot started. Before deciding what is the best thing to be done, we must, of course, tell Miss Slater what has happened.”
Josy and Stella were left, therefore, to watch the finish of the eagerly anticipated match and to join in the shouts of victory that rose when, five seconds before the last whistle blew, Helen, the captain, made an unexpected and brilliant stroke, thus winning the match by a single goal for her side.
“Three—two! Ripping, isn’t it?” exclaimed Josy, but not so whole-heartedly as was her wont. “Oh, I do wish we knew where Margot was, and how she’s getting on!”
“And the pony, too!” amended Stella dolefully. “I never thought that anything like this could happen. I do hope dad won’t be too awfully cross!”
A summons from Miss Slater at this moment struck fear into her heart, but the interview was not to be a long one; things must be done, and done quickly, and the head mistress, with Mrs. Fleming’s aid, had arranged a plan of proceedings.
“Stella, Margot’s mother is going straight to that house on the cliff to find and bring back
“Helen made an unexpected and brilliant stroke, thus winning the match by a single goal.”