At sight of Margot the Chieftain first beamed delight, and then screwed
his chubby face into an expression of concern.
"Halloa! What's up? You look pretty middling doleful!" cried he,
casting an eloquent glance towards the inn windows, then lowering his
voice to a stage whisper, "Macalisteritis, eh? Too much stuffy parlour
and domestic reminiscences? Never mind! Pack clouds away, and welcome
day! The sun is shining, and I have a packet of bull's eyes for you in
one pocket and a budget of letters in another. No, you don't! Not one
single one of them to read in the house--come and sit on a stone by the
tarn, and we'll suck peppermints and read 'em together. Wonderful how
much better you'll feel when you've had a good blow of fresh air. I was
prancing mad when I went out this afternoon, but now--a child might play
with me!"
He threw out his short arms with his favourite sweeping gesture, his
coat flapped to and fro in the breeze, he stepped out with such a jaunty
tread on his short broad feet, that at sight of him Margot's depression
vanished like smoke, and she trotted along by his side with willing
footsteps.
"That's better! That's better! Never saw you look melancholy before,
and never want to again... `Shocking disappearance of dimples! A young
lady robbed of her treasures! Thief still at large! Consternation in
the neighbourhood!' Eh! How's that? Young women who have been endowed
with dimples should never indulge in low spirits. It's a criminal
offence against their neighbours. Where's your brother?"
Margot laughed at the suddenness of the question. It was one of the
Chieftain's peculiarities to leap upon one like this, taking one
unawares, and surprising thereby involuntary revelations.
"I don't know," she answered truthfully. "Over the hills and far away,
I suppose--studying them in a new aspect. He loved them yesterday in
the rain; to-day he felt sure that it would clear, and he wanted to see
the mists rise. He does so intensely love studying Nature."
"Humph?"
Margot looked at him sharply, her head involuntarily assuming a
defensive tilt.
"What does `Humph' mean, pray?"
"Just exactly and precisely what it says!"
"It doesn't sound at all flattering or nice."
"Probably not. It wasn't intended to be."
"Mr Elgood, how can you! What can you have to say about Ron that isn't
to his credit? I thought you liked him! I thought you admired him!
You must see--you must--that he is different from other boys of his
age. So much more clever, and thoughtful, and appreciative!"
"That's where the pity comes in! It's pitiful to see a lad like that
mooning away his time, when he ought to be busy at football or cricket,
or playing tricks on his betters. What business has he to appreciate
Nature? Tell me that! At twenty--is it, or only nineteen?--he ought to
be too much engrossed in exercising his muscles, and letting off steam
generally, to bother his head about effects of sun and mist. Sun and
mist, indeed! A good wholesome ordinary English lad doesn't care a toss
about sun or mist, except as they help or hinder his enjoyment of
sport!"