a technical
character.

Margot flamed with indignation, but before the angry words had time to
form themselves on her lips, the thought occurred that after all the
help vouchsafed to her had been no pretence, but a very substantial
reality. Ron's foot _had_ been placed on the first rung of the ladder,
while as for herself, what greater good could she have found to desire
than that which, through the Chieftain's machinations, had already come
to pass? She lifted her face to meet the anxious, adoring gaze bent
upon her, and cried hurriedly--

"He--he meant it all the time! He _meant_ it to happen!"

"Meant what, darling?"

"_This_!"

Margot waved her hand with a gesture sufficiently expressive, whereat
her lover laughed happily.

"Bless him! of course he did. He has been badgering me for years past
to look out for a wife; and when we met you he was clever enough to
realise that you were the one woman to fill the post. If he had said as
much to me at that stage of affairs, I should have packed up and made
off within the hour; if he had said it to you, you would have felt it
incumbent upon you to do the same. Instead, he let you go on in your
illusion, while he designed the means of throwing us into each other's
society. Good old Geoff! I'm not at all angry with him. Are you?"

Margot considered the point, her head tilted to a thoughtful angle.

"I'm--not--sure! I think I am, just a little bit, for I hate to be
taken in. He was laughing at me all the time."

"But after all, he has done what you wished! I envy him for being able
to give you such pleasure; but perhaps I may be able to do as much in
another way. Geoff tells me that Mr Martin has had financial troubles,
and there is nothing I would not do to help any one who belongs to you.
I'm out of my depths in poetry, but in business matters I can count, and
in this case I shall not be satisfied until I _do_."

Margot drew a long breath of contentment. "Oh, if Jack is happy, and
Ron is successful, and I have--_You_!--there will be nothing left to
wish for in all the world. Poor Ron! he is waiting eagerly to come in
to thank you for publishing his verse, and wondering why in the world
you wanted to see me alone. Don't you think you ought just to read it,
to be able to say it is nice?"

"No, I don't! You are all the poetry I can attend to to-night, and for
goodness' sake keep him away; I shall have to interview your father
later on, but after w