you pilfering again. What will Mrs McNab say
when she finds all her good fruit disappearing like this? You'll have
to bribe me not to carry tales. Better turn me into a confederate--eh?
Are they ripe?"

A long thin hand descended over Margot's shoulder, the fingers
deliberately feeling after the plumpest and yellowest of the berries.
_He had mistaken her for Elspeth_! Stupefaction mingled with
wrath,--_Elspeth_! A vision of the square-built, flat-headed,
hopelessly graceless figure rose before Margot's outraged vision, and
resentment lighted into a blaze. Could any apron in the world be large
enough to cause a resemblance between two such diametrically different
figures! Margot appreciated her own beauty in an honest, unaffected
fashion, as one of the good gifts which had been showered upon her, and
for the moment the sense of injury eclipsed that of embarrassment.

With an impetuous movement she turned her face over her shoulder--that
vivid pink and white face which made such a startling contrast to
Elspeth's stolidity--and stared with widely-opened hazel eyes into that
other pair of eyes so near her own.

It was the younger Mr Elgood sure enough,--but seen close at hand, with
that mischievous smile curling his lips, he had an extraordinary
youthful and boyish appearance. Margot received an instantaneous
impression of kindliness and strength, of a glinting sense of humour,
before the change came. Such a change! If she had been a wild animal
prepared to spring, horror and dismay could not have been more
eloquently depicted upon his face. The eyes widened, the features
stiffened into a mask, the outstretched hand fell limply to his side.
He opened his lips to say something, several things, but the words were
unintelligible; a mere broken stammer of apology, as he wheeled round
and walked hastily from the room.

The door slammed behind him; she heard his footsteps over the flagged
hall. Poor Margot! Never before in her life had she so keenly desired
to make a good impression; never had she so signally failed. It was
indeed an unpromising beginning to the campaign!

CHAPTER TWELVE.

A MOORLAND WALK.

A second time that day Margot came into close contact with Mr George
Elgood. She was strolling slowly up and down the road with "the
Chieftain," waiting for Ron to make his appearance before starting for a
ramble over the countryside, when through the doorway of the inn out
dashed the "Editor," maki