Margot thought with a shudder of the gloomy underground regions in Regent's Park, where the servants of the house spent the greater part of their lives. In her own future spells of authority she determined to be very, very indulgent to pleas for "outings"; nay, even to make it a matter of duty to plan days of sunshine and liberty for the patient, uncomplaining workers. The sun was beginning to peep forth from behind the clouds, and its rays dancing across the kitchen floor were an almost irresistible temptation to one newly escaped from town. Margot gave the basket an impatient shake, and, as another means to the desired end, popped a couple of berries into her mouth. So sweet did they taste, so fresh and ripe, that another two soon followed suit, and henceforth she ate as steadily as she worked. There could be no hesitation in so doing, for in fruit- picking it is an unwritten law that the worker is free to take his toll. It was while Margot's hand was raised to her mouth for the eighth or ninth time that a footstep sounded on the flagged floor of the scullery behind her back, and a man's voice and laugh startled her into vivid attention. In both was a note which immediately recalled her companion of the night before,--the cheery, warm-hearted pseudo-chieftain of the Glen--yet in both rang a difference which told that the newcomer was not he, but probably one closely connected by birth and association. _The_ Mr Elgood; the Editor; the all-powerful dispenser of Ronald's fortunes! Margot felt convinced that it could be no one else, and experienced a moment of keen anticipation, followed by a shock of disgust, as she grasped the meaning of his words. "Ah-ha! So I've caught you pilfering again. What will Mrs McNab say when she finds all her good fruit disappearing like this? You'll have to bribe me not to carry tales. Better turn me into a confederate--eh? Are they ripe?" A long thin hand descended over Margot's shoulder, the fingers deliberately feeling after the plumpest and yellowest of the berries. _He had mistaken her for Elspeth_! Stupefaction mingled with wrath,--_Elspeth_! A vision of the square-built, flat-headed, hopelessly graceless figure rose before Margot's outraged vision, and resentment lighted into a blaze. Could any apron in the world be large enough to cause a resemblance between two such diametrically different figures! Margot appreciated her own beauty in an honest, unaffected fashion, as one of the good gifts which had been showered upon her, and for the moment the sense of injury eclipsed that of embarrassment. With an impetuous movement she turned her face over her shoulder--that vivid pink and white face which made such a startling contrast to Elspeth's stolidity--and stared with widely-opened hazel eyes into that other pair of eyes so near her own.