Big Game | Page 5

to the concluding exhortation, when
she said "No" with much fervour, and stuck to it to the end of the
chapter. Pressed for reasons for her obstinacy, she could advance none
more satisfying than that "she did not like the shape of his ears"! but
the worthy man was rejected nevertheless, and took a voyage to the
Cape to blow away his disappointment.
No man crossed as much as a road for the sake of Agnes Vane! It was a
tragedy, because this incapacity of her nature by no means prohibited
the usual feminine desire for appreciation. Agnes could not understand
why she was invariably passed over in favour of her sisters, and why
even her father was more influenced by the will-o'-the-wisp Margot
than by her own staid maxims. Agnes could not understand many
things. In this obtuseness, perhaps, and in a deadly lack of humour lay
the secret of her limitations.
On the morning after the conversation between the brother and sister
recorded in the last chapter the young poet paced his attic sitting- room,
wrestling with lines that halted, and others which were palpably
artificial. Margot's accusations had gone home, and instead of
indulging in fresh flights, he resolved to correct certain errors in the
lines now on hand until the verses should be polished to a flawless
whole. Any one who has any experience with the pen understands the
difficulty of such a task, and the almost hopeless puzzle of changing a
stone in the mosaic without disturbing the whole. The infinite capacity
for taking pains is not by any means a satisfying definition of genius,
but it is certainly one great secret of success.
Ronald's awkward couplet gave him employment for the rest of the
morning, and lunch-time found him still dissatisfied. An adjective

avoided his quest--the right adjective; the one and only word which
expressed the precise shade of meaning desired. From the recesses of
his brain it peeped at him, now advancing so near that it was almost
within grasp, anon retreating to a shadowy distance. There was no help
for it but to wait for the moment when, tired of its game of hide-and-
seek, it would choose the most unexpected and inappropriate moment
to peer boldly forward, and make its curtsy.
Meantime Margot had dusted the china in the drawing-room, watered
the plants, put in an hour's practising, and done a few odds and ends of
mending; in a word, had gone through the programme which comprises
the duties of a well-to-do modern maiden, and by half-past eleven was
stepping out of the door, arrayed in a pretty spring dress, and her third
best hat. She crept quietly along the hall, treading with the cautious
steps of one who wishes to escape observation; but her precautions
were in vain, for just as she was passing the door of the morning-room
it was thrown open from within, and Agnes appeared upon the
threshold--Agnes neat and trim in her morning gown of serviceable
fawn alpaca, her hands full of tradesmen's books, on her face an
expression of acute disapproval.
"Going out, Margot? So early? It's not long past eleven o'clock!"
"I know?"
"Where are you going?"
"Don't know!"
"If you are passing down Edgware Road--"
"I'm not!"
The front door closed with a bang, leaving Agnes discomfited on the
mat. There was no denying that at times Margot was distinctly difficult
in her dealings with her elder sister. She herself was aware of the fact,
and repented ardently after each fresh offence, but alas! without
reformation.

"We don't fit. We never shall, if we live together a hundred years.
Edgware Road, indeed, on a morning like this, when you can hear the
spring a-calling, and it's a sin and a shame to live in a city at all! If I
had told her I was going into the Park, she would have offered stale
bread for the ducks!" Margot laughed derisively as she crossed the road
in the direction of the Park, and passing in through a narrow gateway,
struck boldly across a wide avenue between stretches of grass where
the wind and sun had full play, and she could be as much alone as
possible, within the precincts of the great city.
In spite of her light and easy manner, the problem of her brother's
future weighed heavily upon the girl's mind. The eleventh hour
approached, and nothing more definite had been achieved in the way of
encouragement than an occasional written line at the end of the printed
rejections: "Pleased to see future verses," "Unsuitable; but shall be glad
to consider other poems." Even the optimism of two-and-twenty
recognised that such straws as these could not weigh against the hard-
headed logic of a business man!
It was in the last degree unlikely