The Eagle's Shadow

  XI

  In the living-hall Margaret came upon Hugh Van Orden, who wassearching in one of the alcoves for a piece of music that AdeleHaggage wanted and had misplaced.

  The boy greeted her miserably.

  "Miss Hugonin," he lamented, "you're awfully hard on me."

  "I am sorry," said Margaret, "that you consider me discourteous to aguest in my own house." Oh, I grant you Margaret was in a temper now.

  "It isn't that," he protested; "but I never see you alone. And I'vehad something to tell you."

  "Yes?" said she, coldly.

  He drew near to her. "Surely," he breathed, "you must know what I havelong wanted to tell you--"

  "Yes, I should think I _did!_" said Margaret, "and if you dare tellme a word of it I'll never speak to you again. It's getting a littlemonotonous. Good-night, Mr. Van Orden."

  Half way up the stairs she paused and ran lightly back.

  "Oh, Hugh, Hugh!" she said, contritely, "I was unpardonably rude. I'msorry, dear, but it's quite impossible. You are a dear, cute littleboy, and I love you--but not that way. So let's shake hands, Hugh, andbe friends! And then you can go and play with Adele." He raised herhand to his lips. He really was a nice boy.

  "But, oh, dear!" said Margaret, when he had gone; "what horridcreatures men are, and what a temper I'm in, and what a vexatiousplace the world is! I wish I were a pauper! I wish I had never beenborn! And I wish--and I wish I had those League papers fixed! I'lldo it to-night! I'm sure I need something tranquillising, likeassessments and decimal places and unpaid dues, to keep me from_screaming_. I hate them all--all three of them--as badly as I do_him!_"

  Thereupon she blushed, for no apparent reason, and went to her ownrooms in a frame of mind that was inexcusable, but very becoming. Hercheeks burned, her eyes flashed with a brighter glow that was gem-likeand a little cruel, and her chin tilted up defiantly. Margaret had aresolute chin, a masculine chin. I fancy that it was only at the lastmoment that Nature found it a thought too boyish and modified it witha dimple--a very creditable dimple, by the way, that she must havebeen really proud of. That ridiculous little dint saved it, feminisedit.

  Altogether, then, she swept down upon the papers of the Ladies' Leaguefor the Edification of the Impecunious with very much the look of adiminutive Valkyrie--a Valkyrie of unusual personal attractions, youunderstand--_en route_ for the battle-field and a little, a verylittle eager and expectant of the strife.

  Subsequently, "Oh, dear, _dear!_" said she, amid a feverish rustlingof papers; "the whole world is out of sorts to-night! I never _did_know how much seven times eight is, and I hate everybody, and I'veleft that list of unpaid dues in Uncle Fred's room, and I've got to goafter it, and I don't want to! Bother those little suitors of mine!"

  Miss Hugonin rose, and went out from her own rooms, carrying a bunchof keys, across the hallway to the room in which Frederick R. Woodshad died. It was his study, you may remember. It had been littleused since his death, but Margaret kept her less important papersthere--the overflow, the flotsam of her vast philanthropic andeducational correspondence.

  And there she found Billy Woods.