In the circumstances there was nothing else to be done, nor indeed, after a long morning spent in wandering about as a party, was Margot inclined to quarrel with the fate which provided an interesting tête-à-tête for the walk home. She contented herself with expressing profuse sympathy for the Chieftain’s loss, and with prophesying cheerfully that the keys were certain to be found, then promptly dismissed the subject from her mind, and gave herself up to the enjoyment of the moment.
“I really think we are wise not to wait about,” George Elgood said, in accents of self-vindication, as they moved on together. “The glass is high, but I don’t like the look of things, all the same, and for your sake shall be glad when we are nearer home. Are you pretty warmly dressed, if the rain should come on?”
“Don’t I look it? I couldn’t possibly have anything more suitable than this tweed coat and skirt. It doesn’t matter how wet it gets. It won’t spoil.”
“I was thinking about your own comfort, not of the clothes. You never carry an umbrella with you, I notice!”
“I can’t be bothered! Showers are such an everyday occurrence up here, that one would be doing nothing else. I rather like the feel of the rain on my face, and besides,”—she laughed mischievously, “it’s good for the complexion!”
“Is that so?” he asked gravely, his dark eyes dwelling on the soft, rounded cheeks, which grew a shade more pink beneath his gaze. Suddenly his lips twitched, with the one-sided, humorous smile which brought the youth into his face. “I don’t think the need in that direction is so pressing that it could not be postponed with advantage, for to-day at least. Do you mind walking fairly quickly? I shall feel more comfortable when we are nearer home.”
Margot was serenely indifferent whether it rained or not, but none the less she appreciated the Editor’s care for her welfare, which showed itself in a dozen little graceful acts during the first part of their walk. For one unaccustomed to women’s society he was marvellously observant, and Margot felt a sweeter satisfaction in being so protected than in all her former independence. They climbed the hillside which led to the moor and set out radiantly to traverse the grey expanse; grey and cheerless to-day in very deed, with a thick, blanket-like dampness in the atmosphere of which dwellers in southern climes are happily ignorant.
George Elgood turned up the collar of his coat, and Margot thrust her hands into her pockets, shivering slightly the while, but neither made any complaint in words. As usual, it was left to Margot to do most of the talking; but though her companion’s responses were short, they were yet so sympathetic and appreciative, that there was never any difficulty in finding a fresh subject. Like most couples with whom friendship is fast making way for a warmer emotion, personal topics were the most appreciated, and what was happening in the world—the discoveries of science, the works of the great writers—palled in interest before sentences beginning with, “I think,” and, “Do you think?”
“I wish—”
“Have you ever wished—?”