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"His Reverence didn't look very well yesterday, or maybe the old housekeeper has the gout again." Janci gave a grunt which might have meant anything. The shepherd was a silent man. Being alone so much had taught him to find his own thoughts sufficient company. Ten minutes passed in silence since Margit's last question, then some one went past the window.
Mann, with pursed lips, "that we shall have to give up the idea of having Miss Carrington the younger for the part." "Oh, oh, oh!" chorused some of the girls. "Can't Margit play?" "Isn't that just like Gee Gee?" demanded Bobby furiously. "She wanted to, I am sure," Laura said. "It is not Margit's fault." "Of course it isn't," snapped Jess. "That old " Fortunately she got no farther.
In the thick of the crowd he slipped his arm out of Margit's, but, just as he thought that he was free, the unwelcome hand slid up again. He tried again, but again Margit reappeared, serene, and full of pleasant humour; and his failure this time appeared to him in a comic light.
We parted the best of friends; and in the course of the next seven years I spent most of my holidays with them. No married life could well be smoother than was Obed's and Margit's in all this time. He worshipped her to fondness; and she, without the least parade of affection, seemed to make his comfort and well-being the business of her life.
And his suspicion bred suspicion in me. Yet though I searched, I could find nothing amiss in his outward bearing. If he were indeed in love with the girl her age, she told us, was twenty-one he gave no sign upon which one could lay hold. And certainly Margit's bearing towards us was cool and friendly and impartial as the strictest could desire.
Her first appearance marked a flourishing period by Jess, who strode about the stage as the hero of the piece. "And Margit's not here!" cried Dora Lockwood. "Shouldn't she be, Mr. Mann? Really, her entrance gives me my cue, not Adrian's speech." Adrian was Jess Morse. She nodded her head vigorously. "Of course, Margit ought to be here to rehearse with us." "I am afraid," said Mr.
She jumped up from her seat and twirled round with a pout. An inspiration seized on Swithin. "Come and dine with me," he said to Boleskey, "to-morrow the Goldene Alp bring your friend." He felt the eyes of the whole room on him the Hungarian's fine eyes; Margit's wide glance; the narrow, hot gaze of Kasteliz; and lastly Rozsi's. A glow of satisfaction ran down his spine.
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