They turned and walked together along the winding road. Evidently friendship progressed quickly in this quiet glen, and guests living beneath the same roof accepted each other in simple, natural fashion, as members of a common household. Margot felt a sense of protection in the presence of this little man, so much older than herself, so friendly, so absolutely unsentimental in manner. His head was on a level with her own, and she read a frank admiration in his eyes, but it was an admiration of which Agnes herself could not have disapproved. He was the kind of man one would have chosen for an uncle—an indulgent bachelor uncle with plenty of money, and a partiality for standing treat!
“Tell me about the people in the Inn! I am always so interested in people!” she cried eagerly. “My brother likes other things better—books and pictures and mountains—but I like the living things best. I know a good deal about Mr Macalister’s health, and about Lizzie, and Isabel, and their husbands and babies, and their lovers before they were married. They come from Glasgow—and the old clergyman is Scotch too, I suppose. Is every one Scotch except ourselves and you? We come from London—”
Mr Elgood’s face shadowed quickly.
“Yes! but don’t mention it. Never mention it!” he cried quickly. “I live there, too, or as nearly live as is possible in the surroundings. Now for three or four weeks I’ve escaped, and my one endeavour is to forget that such a place exists. I ask every one as a favour never to mention as much as the name in my hearing. You’ll remember, won’t you, and be good enough to indulge me? For the moment Miss—Miss Vane, I am a Heelander, born and bred, a strapping young chieftain of five-and-twenty. The Elgood of Elgood, an it please you, in bonnet and kilt, and my foot is on my native heather!”
He tilted his cap on one side, and threw a swagger into his walk, cleverly remindful of the swirl of tartan skirts, then turning upon Margot, queried quickly—
“Why do you laugh? It’s rude to laugh! Is it so impossible to think of me in the character?”
“I laugh because I’m pleased,” Margot answered, truthfully enough. “I do love to pretend! Let’s bury London and our lives there, and pretend that we are all Highlanders! We will be your guests up in your mountain fastness, and you will take us about, and show us the scenes of your historic feuds with neighbouring clans, and we will swear to help you, if any new trouble should arise!”
“Right oh!” cried Mr Elgood, laughing. “I shall be only too proud. I’m a sociable beggar—during holiday time—and want to do nothing but smoke and talk. To talk nonsense, of course. Nothing dull or improving.” He cast a sudden, suspicious look at the girl’s face. “You are not clever by any chance, are you? I can’t stand cleverness in the country.”
Margot laughed gaily.
“I think I am—rather!” she declared audaciously. “I couldn’t confess to being stupid, even to please a Highland chief, but it’s in a very feminine way. I don’t know anything about politics or science, and I’ve forgotten almost all that I learnt at school, but I take an interest in things, and understand people pretty well. I am generally clever enough to get my own way!”