Chapter 19

THE PALE LADYE.

For the space of a minute, or it might be more, they looked at one another--Miss Linisfarne at Dan, he and Meg at Miss Linisfarne. It was so contrary to her usual custom to thus show herself to a stranger, that Meg might well be excused for being tongue-tied with astonishment. The languid creature whom Meg knew and pitied had disappeared as by magic, and in her place stood a bright-eyed, cheek-flushed being, who had regained for the moment the lost loveliness of her prime. Unable to guess the reason of this rejuvenescence, Meg could only look at her benefactress with parted lips and amazed eyes.

Miss Linisfarne took no heed of her presence, but examined Dan in a leisurely manner, as though he were as indifferent to her regard as was Sir Alurde in his frame behind. Man of the world as Dan was, the eager scrutiny of this woman made him vaguely resentful, and he was amazed at the lack of delicacy which could permit her to signify so openly her admiration for a stranger. It seemed an insult to Meg that she should look at him with such brazen assurance; and, indifferently as he returned her gaze, he felt indignant at her demeanour. Meg was the first of the trio to break silence. She mistook Miss Linisfarne's examination of Dan for anger at his intrusion, and hastened to excuse him.

"Do not be angry, Miss Linisfarne," she said breathlessly. "I wished to show Dan the picture of Sir Alurde, and----

"I am not angry, child," interrupted Miss Linisfarne. "Why should I be angry? I gave you permission to show the gallery to this gentleman."

"Pardon me, madam, I do not claim to be a gentleman," said Dan, still resentful of her unwomanly scrutiny.

"That may be so, sir," answered Miss Linisfarne, coldly; "but you must permit me to form my own opinion. Keep your secret, if it pleases you to do so. In due time you will no doubt reveal your identity."

She spoke with such significance that Dan felt uneasy lest, owing to his resemblance to Sir Alurde, she should guess his name and rank. Gifted with a keener appreciation of culture than either Meg or the vicar, she saw at once through his flimsy disguise. She did not know he was Lord Ardleigh, but felt convinced that he was of gentle birth. He felt himself unmasked, yet was by no means ready to concede the point.

"You flatter me, Miss Linisfarne," said he, bowing. "I trust I shall continue to deserve your good opinion."

Miss Linisfarne smiled, but did not make any immediate reply to this ironic remark. The appearance of Dan and the evident mystery connected with his residence at Farbis piqued her curiosity, so she invented a pretext for getting Meg out of the way, in order to discover if possible who and what he was.

"Meg, my dear," she said, turning to the girl, "perhaps your friend would like a cup of tea. Tell the housekeeper to get it ready in my room."

Dan bowed his acceptance of this invitation, being as curious to talk with Miss Linisfarne as she was with him. The unusual hospitality added to Meg's perplexity, but, not daring to ask Miss Linisfarne's reasons, she tripped away to carry out the order. When her footsteps died away, Miss Linisfarne turned again towards Dan, and their eyes met. A duel of words was inevitable, as each wished to know the secret of the other. Conscious of this, Dan tried to gain the advantage by speaking first.

"It is very kind of you to ask me to sit down with you, Miss Linisfarne. May I ask you a question?"

She seated herself in the chair under Sir Alurde's picture, and signified her consent with a smiling nod. The coming war of words braced her nerves and aroused her from the lethargy of years. She felt like a new creature.

"Is it your custom to entertain all vagrants who come here?" asked Dan, with feigned simplicity.

"Yes, when they are vagrants like you, sir. Come, Dan--since it pleases you to call yourself by that hideous name,--let me know why you have come to Farbis."

"To see the portrait of Sir Alurde."

"You resemble it greatly," said Miss Linisfarne, annoyed at this evasion. "One would think you were connected with the Breels."

"You flatter me," said he again, feeling that this chance observation was too near the mark to be pleasant.

"Why will you not be candid with me?" asked Miss Linisfarne, in a vexed tone.

Dan hesitated. He was astonished at the way in which she threw off all reserve and spoke to him. It was on the tip of his tongue to point out that it was not her business to ask questions about a stranger; but she guessed his thoughts, and commented on them frankly.

"I see what is in your mind, sir. You think that I have no business to ask impertinent questions, but I assure you I have every right to do so."

"I do not understand. I am afraid I am dull."

"Not at all! You quite see my position. I am the chaperon, guardian, protectress--what you will--of Meg. She is an innocent girl, who knows nothing of the world, and it is my duty to look after her."

"Why should you impute unworthy motives to me?"

"I impute no motives," replied Miss Linisfarne, calmly; "but I ask myself, why is a gentleman philandering in this lonely place disguised as a vagrant? What reply can you make to that question, sir?"

"Simply that I travel for my pleasure, and do not feel inclined to reveal my name."

"Did you come down to Farbis with any purpose in your mind?"

"No; I did not know the place at all. I came by chance, and, as Farbis pleases me, I propose to stay here for a week or so."

"For what purpose?"

Dan shrugged his shoulders to intimate that his purpose was not worth mentioning. This was rude, but Miss Linisfarne invited the discourtesy by the persistency with which she sought to know what did not concern her. Perhaps the hint was taken, for, after a meditative pause, she apologized for her curiosity.

"The strangeness of our position must excuse the absence of the convenances, sir. It is not the custom for ladies and gentlemen to talk at the first meeting as we are now doing. But it is so rare to find a stranger in these parts, that you must excuse my very natural curiosity. Again, there is Meg to consider."

She waited for an answer, but none came. Dan was considering if it would be wise to confess that he loved the girl, but, on second thoughts, decided to postpone such information. It would seem ridiculous in the eyes of Miss Linisfarne that he should profess to love Meg when he had only seen her three times. On the face of it the statement was absurd. He did not think so, being intoxicated with love; but the cooler judgment of Miss Linisfarne might look at it in quite a different light, therefore he had sense enough to hold his tongue.

"You must not meet Meg any more," said Miss Linisfarne, seeing he did not reply.

"Can you not see?" was the impatient answer. "She is a child, and you a man of the world. If she falls in love with you it will disturb her peace of mind. Would it be fair to do so?"

"Can I not see Meg in your presence?"

"I shall think about it," said Miss Linisfarne, thoughtfully. "Meanwhile, now that we have met, you can call again if you choose to do so. I am a lonely woman, and your presence will give me great pleasure."

Dan felt rather embarrassed at this generous offer of friendship. He could not understand how Miss Linisfarne could be so rash in welcoming a stranger, who, for all she knew, might prove anything but a desirable acquaintance. He set it down to her long seclusion from the world, and a natural craving for society at any price. There was no hesitation on his part in accepting her offer, as he wished to see as much of Meg as he was able, and, as the girl was constantly at the Court, it would give him many opportunities of speaking with her.

"I shall be delighted to call, Miss Linisfarne; and I promise you I shall appear more respectably dressed when I again make my appearance."

"Will you leave your card on the occasion of your next visit?" she asked meaningly.

"I am afraid that would not be much use, madam," he answered, avoiding the trap so skilfully laid. "You know my name."

"Your travelling name only."

"It will suffice for Farbis."

"That may be, sir, but will it suffice for me?"

Pushed into a corner, Dan hardly knew what reply to make. She was evidently determined to force him to speak, but he was fully as obstinate as she, and doggedly refused to gratify her desire. Yet not wishing to appear rude, he temporized.

"In a week or so I shall tell you my name, if you still desire to know it, Miss Linisfarne."

"You promise that?" she said eagerly.

"I promise you faithfully," he answered, knowing well that did he wish to enlist her in his wooing it would be shortly necessary to confess all to her, as he had already done to Jarner. Then he tried to discover her secret, and, in his turn, asked questions. She proved to be as clever as he in baffling curiosity.

"Do you know Dr. Merle, madam?"

"Only by name. I have never seen him, though when ill I have frequently sent for him. I cannot understand his refusal to come, but put it down to the fact that he is as great an invalid as myself, and as rarely leaves his house."

"Have you met with Meg's friends, the gipsies?"

"No, sir. Do I not tell you that I never go beyond the park gates? I am dead to the world. As I asked you so many questions you have, perhaps, a right to retaliate, but I must request you to ask no more."

"I beg your pardon. As you observed, the strangeness of our meeting must excuse the absence of the convenances. Here is Meg returning."

"Who said you might call her Meg?"

"She did. I would not have done so without her permission."

"You should not have taken advantage of that permission, sir. She is a child, and knows no better; but you----"

"Will be more careful in the future. Do not let us quarrel again, Miss Linisfarne."

She was most unaccountably angry at his familiarity with her prot�g�e, but his last remark, and the smile with which it was made, seemed to quieten her wrath. She controlled herself with a strong effort, and saluted Meg gaily--

"Well, child, is the tea ready?"

"Quite ready, Miss Linisfarne Are you hungry, Dan?"

"Yes, Miss Merle."

"Miss Merle? Why 'Miss Merle'?"

"By my request, Meg," said Miss Linisfarne, angrily. "You are too old, child, for a gentleman to call you by your Christian name. Give me your arm, sir. I am too weak to walk down the stairs unaided."

Dan walked about with Miss Linisfarne, and Meg, much dismayed at the outburst of her benefactress, lagged in the rear. He glanced over his shoulder, and saw that she by no means approved of the way in which Miss Linisfarne had taken possession of him. He wondered, also, at the position in which he found himself, but ceased to think it strange when he learned the cause. That first visit to the Court plunged him into troubles of which he had no conception. Yet he never regretted his acquaintance with Miss Linisfarne, in spite of the trouble, as he learned many things of importance to his future of which he would otherwise have remained ignorant. In this case out of evil came good.