In the Mist of the Mountains Part 34

"Where's the last _Melbourne Review_, I ask you?" roared Hugh. As if it were part of Kate's duty to bring files of the latest magazines with her to picnics!

She delved instantly into her memory to try to help him; another woman might have chosen the moment to sulk, offended at his tone.

"It came on Thursday," she said, "I remember tearing a page out to make a boat for m.u.f.fie--I meant to have torn an advertis.e.m.e.nt page, but found later it had part of a story of yours on it."

"What was the tale called?"

"_The Hypocrites._"

"And my signature to it?"

"Yes, certainly."

"Great heavens, girl, don't you see what your carelessness has done?

You've sent that confounded woman's tale to the editor as my work!"

Kate was forced gently to remind him that he had enclosed the MS himself in an envelope and addressed it to a typist with instructions to forward to the _Review_.

Hugh sat down chapfallen. "What a fool I am!" he groaned. "The tale was unspeakable. It is enough to ruin any reputation. And Wilkie's not the man to retract either; he'll tell me the mistake's my own and I'll have to grin and bear the ignominy."

"And that poor girl," said Kate--"her story lost to her! No wonder I couldn't find her MS. I meant to have made you hunt for it to-day, but this picnic put it out of my head."

And now Hugh gave a sudden roar of laughter.

"By George, K," he said, "don't you see the shrieking humour of the situation? The woman thinks I've boned her precious story. That's why she has been treating me with such cold dignity. Oh, hold me up, hold me up, I feel ill!"

But soon his hilarity sobered. The situation also had a pathetic side.

He remembered the quiet s.h.i.+ning of the auth.o.r.ess's eyes when she gave him the unfortunate roll of MS. What must she be thinking of him?

"K," he said, "I'm going down at once to explain to Miss Bibby."

"But what will Dora and Beatrice say?" said Kate doubtfully.

"Oh, hang Dora and Beatrice," said their gallant host, "you'll have to make an excuse for me. Besides, Agnes Bibby is as much my guest as they are. I'll eat my chicken down there and my strawberries up here. You've sent everything down for them, haven't you."

"Everything," said K.

"Champagne?"

"Oh no--Miss Bibby does not touch such things, I know."

"Give me a bottle of champagne?"

Kate handed him one and he tucked it under his arm.

"Forgive my spleen, old girl," he said, his hand held out. "I fear there's a good deal of the unvarnished brute in me."

"Yes, you want a tamer, my boy," said Kate, squeezing his hand.

"Well," said Hugh, "I'll go and make my expiation. Again. I seem to be always doing it. I tell you what it is, K, if I injure that girl again I'll have to marry her."

He went swinging off at a comfortable jog-trot down the path, his bottle sticking out from beneath one arm.

A look of thoughtful surprise dawned in Kate's eyes.

"And upon my soul you might do worse," she said--"you might do worse."

CHAPTER XXIV

AT THE SECOND FALL

Miss Bibby had prepared a delightful meal for her charges from the generous hamper the caddies carried down to her. Slices of chicken lay in nests of finely shredded lettuce with a delicate cream dressing lightly poured on top. A mountain of ruddy strawberries formed a centrepiece,--delicious and novel cakes made side dishes, jellies quivered and reflected on their sides the foaming waterfall. While here, there and everywhere were scattered evidences of the high skill chocolate manufacturers are attaining to--hatchets, saws, garden rakes, dolls' tea-sets, animals of every description--all in the most delightful kind of chocolate.

The children buzzed round the tables like eager flies, but Miss Bibby would not have them begin until their host had paid the visit he had promised.

"But I may as well get mine over," she said, "and then I can help all of you. And it would be too depressing for you, wouldn't it, Paul, to see me eating what you think my poor meal while you revel in all these delicacies?" She got out her tiny basket and hastily emptied the contents of one of the packets on to a plate.

"Dear, darling Miss Bibby," implored Lynn, clinging suddenly to her, "do eat something nice, just to-day. Oh do, do throw your horrid basket away, and eat really truly food for once."

"I can't, darling--I really can't," said Miss Bibby, quite distressed at having to refuse such a lovingly-put plea; "some other day,--next time you have a picnic. But not to-day." She almost said "Not _his_ food."

"Here he comes, here he comes," shrieked the children.

"Can I begin--can I have a lawberry?" cried Max, fairly dancing in his impatience.

Hugh came down wiping his hot face with his handkerchief. He took in the scene at a glance,--the eager children, waiting for him before they began, Miss Bibby seated at the adjacent slab table where she had piled the empty hampers, hastily eating a poor meal from a plate before her.

"Fall to, chickens," said Hugh, and the four children made a glad, mad dash for their seats and with glowing eyes "fell to."

Hugh went to the grey slab table.

"My dear Miss Bibby, am I always to be doing you an injury?" he said.

And at that instant there rolled away from Agnes Bibby's soul all the heaviness that had oppressed it, and the sun shone out.

Of course, of course there was some mistake,--he had never meant to take credit for her work!

"Oh," she gasped, "it was a mistake, of course. You--you sent them the wrong MS, that is all." Why had no lightning flash of this possibility come to her before in her darkness?

Hugh looked at her in speechless admiration.

Then he spoke, and slowly. "I think," he said, "you are without exception the most sensible woman I have ever met."

And now there ran into Agnes Bibby's face a flood of colour, quite as delicate and beautiful as that which sometimes stained the fresh young skins of Dora and Beatrice. She felt so guilty--she had thought--what had she not thought? She began to try to tell him she was not as sensible as he imagined, but he was so busy explaining to her how it all happened, and pressing the ten-guinea cheque upon her which he insisted her story had earned, that she simply was afforded no chance.