Margot purred over him with tenderest affection.
“How I wish Agnes would marry!”
“What has that to do with it, pray?”
“Then you could live with me, of course! I should love it,” said Margot warmly; and though her father had no intention of accepting such an invitation, it remained through life a solace to him to remember that it had been in the girl’s heart to wish it.
Next morning at twelve o’clock a daintily attired damsel ascended a dusty staircase in Fleet Street and desired to see the Editor in his den. The dragon who guarded the fastness inquired of her if
she had an appointment, and, unsoftened by the charm of her appearance, volunteered the information that Mr Elgood would see no stray callers.
“He will see me!” returned Margot arrogantly; and she was right, for, to the surprise of the messenger, the sight of the little printed card was followed by an order to “Show the lady in at once.”
A moment later Margot made her first entrance into an Editor’s den, and round the corner of a big desk caught a glimpse of a decorous, black-coated figure whom at first sight it was difficult to associate with the light-hearted Chieftain of Glenaire. As they confronted each other, however, the round face twinkled into a smile, which served as fuel to the girl’s indignation. She stopped short, ostentatiously disregarding the outstretched hand, drew her brows together, and proclaimed haughtily—
“I have come to let you know that you are found out. I know all about it now. You have been laughing at me all the time?”