Chapter 24

A WOMAN SCORNED.

In her then state of mind it needed but the assurance of Jarner that Dan loved Meg to change Miss Linisfarne's passive dislike of the girl into active hatred. She had long been aware that Meg was her rival, but this confirmation by a third party showed her how easily she might lose her prize. At the same time, she was sufficiently clever to see that Meg was quite unconscious of Dan's devotion, and hoped, by taking advantage of this fact, to draw him away from one presumably indifferent to his regard. It was a difficult and delicate task, but Miss Linisfarne deemed herself capable of carrying it through. Come what may, she was resolved that Meg should not triumph.

To forward her schemes, it was necessary that she should have an interview with Dan, and therefore sent a note to the dell requesting him to call. The young man duly received the invitation, and, though reluctant to visit a lady with whom his name was connected by gossip, could not find sufficient grounds for refusal, and so sent back to say that he would call at noon as desired. Had he known of Jarner's interview, he might have been placed on his guard, and so refused a meeting which could only end in disaster; but Jarner was away on parochial business, and Dan was quite ignorant of his danger.

Much as he distrusted Miss Linisfarne--for by her own acts she had caused the gossip which had connected their names,--he did not think she was so passionately in love with him as to overstep all bounds of womanly modesty. He had laughed to scorn the notion of marriage put forward by Tim and Dr. Merle, deeming it beyond all probability that a gentlewoman would be so rash as to desire to link her fortunes with those of a nameless vagrant. Although Tinker Tim and the vicar knew his name, he was well assured that Miss Linisfarne was ignorant of it, and so could see no reason to believe the rumour of marriage. Dan was a cautious and astute young man, but in this case he had to measure his wits against a woman. As a natural consequence, he failed. The cleverest man is but a fool in some matters, when compared with even a silly woman. Yet Dan came through the ordeal more creditably than he might have expected.

Miss Linisfarne was by no means silly, and had all her plans prepared for the subjugation of Dan. She intended to tell him that Meg's indifference was caused by the fact of her having another lover whom she wished to marry. There not being a representative of this mythical lover in the parish of Farbis, Miss Linisfarne decided to locate him at a safe distance, where he could not be easily found. All this was very clever, but she quite forgot that Dan's insight into human nature was as keen as her own, and that he would find it difficult to believe that a mere child like Meg could keep secret so important a factor in her life as a future marriage. Dan was honest and straightforward, and, notwithstanding Miss Linisfarne's fine-spun webs of sophistry, contrived in the end to break through them, though not without difficulty and pain. He failed in one respect, as his antagonist was a woman and unscrupulous; but he was successful in the end, as his strong love for Meg proved his safeguard against the wiles of this enchantress.

Miss Linisfarne received him in her own particular corner of the drawing-room. Knowing her ill health, Dan quite expected to find her stretched languidly on the couch, but was astonished, as Jarner had been, to find himself welcomed by a bright-eyed lady, alert and merry. She presided over the tea-table and invited him to be seated. Nothing loth--for his walk had given him an appetite--Dan drank tea and devoured cakes, while Miss Linisfarne chatted to him on unimportant subjects. She was too clever to introduce Meg's name into the conversation, lest his suspicions might be aroused, and left him to make the first mention of the girl. This he did while talking of Mr. Jarner, and discussing matters incidental to his sojourn at Farbis.

"I have enjoyed my stay here very very much, thank you, Miss Linisfarne," said Dan, in answer to a question. "You can judge of that by the months I have been encamped in the dell."

"And what have you most delighted in?" asked Miss Linisfarne, hoping by this artful remark to lead him to talk of Meg.

"In Mr. Jarner. I have never met a character like him before."

"No; a sporting parson is rather rare nowadays."

"It's not exactly his love of sport, but his whole character I admire. He is a cross between Dr. Johnson and Squire Western. A bluff, honest, hearty old man, who would put to shame many of our mincing, scented clergy. I can well understand him doing what he told me he did the other day."

"What is that?"

"Why, he found his congregation was not large enough, and was in danger of beginning the service, like Dean Swift, with 'Dearly beloved Roger,' so he doffed his surplice and went out with his hunting crop to thrash in a few listeners. Ay, and he succeeded too! He thrashed the whole village. I can fancy how attentive that congregation must have been."

"He is very amusing," said Miss Linisfarne, laughing at this anecdote; "and has a good heart."

"That he has," assented Dan, heartily. "Look how kind he has been to Meg. I do not know what she would have done without yourself and Mr. Jarner."

"Ob, I have done very little," said Miss Linisfarne, carelessly. "It was a great pleasure to me to help the poor child. I am afraid you find her very rough and countrified?"

"Indeed, no. I think her perfection as she is. It would be a sin to turn her into a fine London lady."

"What do you know about London ladies?"

"What indeed!" said Dan, laughing to hide his confusion. "I am only a vagabond."

"I think we argued that question before, and disagreed upon it. You are no vagabond, though it pleases you to pass as one. By the way, you promised to tell me your name in a week or so. It is now two months since then, and I am still ignorant of it."

"I cannot tell you at present," muttered Dan, awkwardly; "on some future occasion I may."

Miss Linisfarne was disappointed at this denial, but did not see her way to press the matter. Nevertheless, she skilfully made use of the opportunity to reintroduce the topic of Meg.

"It pleases you to be mysterious," she said coldly, "and I trust your motives are straightforward."

"I think I can answer for them. With regard to whom?"

"Meg Merle! You are constantly with her, and I do not think that it is right that you should be."

"Why not?" asked Dan, with a frown. The significance of her tone annoyed him.

"Well, for one thing, it is not right for the girl herself; for another--her lover may take exception to your conduct."

"Miss Linisfarne!"

He had leaped to his feet, and was looking at her with angry eyes. She gazed at him with admiration, and thought she had never seen him look so handsome; yet, undeterred by his wrath, persisted in her line of conduct.

"Ah, you are astonished, I see. You did not know, then, that Meg was engaged to be married?"

"I cannot believe it."

"Nevertheless, it is true. That is why she is so indifferent to your suit."

"What do you mean?" said Dan, rather confused by the rapidity with which she pressed the attack.

"Oh, I am not blind! I know you are in love with her. Your devotion is quite useless, as you can see from her demeanour. She----"

"That is innocence," he interrupted roughly. "She does not know the meaning of love. She has never thought of marriage. I do not--I cannot believe that she is engaged. Her whole life gives the lie to such an assertion."

"You are discourteous."

"I beg your pardon, I did not mean to be so," he replied apologetically; "but it is impossible. You must be mistaken."

"Ask Mr. Byrne of Silkstone if I am mistaken. Meg may deny it, but he----"

"Why should she deny it? If she is engaged to be married to this Silkstone man of whom you speak, there is no necessity to keep it secret. But I tell you it cannot be. If it were so she would have told me. She is an innocent child, who cannot keep a secret."

"She kept this one, however."

"Moreover, Mr. Jarner would have told me," said Dan, not heeding the taunt.

Miss Linisfarne lost her temper. She had counted on resistance, but not on such a stubborn defence of Meg. Rising with flashing eyes, she stepped up to Dan, and, throwing aside all restraint, burst out into rapid speech. It was not wise for her to do so, but her love and jealousy carried her away, and she spoke wildly, madly--as she never would have spoken had she reflected for a moment.

"Are you blind, sir, that you so believe in this girl? I tell you, she is engaged to be married. She does not love you--she will never love you. Why should you lay your heart at her feet only to find it spurned? Give it to me--I say, give it to me."

"To you!" cried Dan, scarcely believing his ears.

"Yes. You now know my secret. I love you! I love you! I wish to make you my husband. You are poor, but I am rich. Take me--take my money--only leave that wretched girl and come to me, who truly loves you."

Dan stepped back a pace, and looked at her in amazement. Her face was flushed, her eyes were unnaturally bright, and her whole body trembled with emotion as she stretched out appealing hands to him. He was so utterly astonished, that for the moment he did not know what to say--what to do.

"I love you. Come to me," she cried passionately. "You must see how I am prepared to give up all for you."

"But I--I am not--not worthy," he stammered.

"You are in my eyes."

"I am poor--nameless--unknown."

"What is that to me? I am rich--take my money. I have a name--take it as your own. With my name and my money you can make yourself known. Only love me."

It was an extremely awkward situation. Here was Dan, standing helplessly before this impassionate woman, unable to move, almost unable to speak. He faltered, stammered, hesitated, while she with outstretched arms drew nearer. It was impossible to say how he would have extricated himself from the dilemma, had not a memory of his conversation with Merle flashed across his brain. He acted on the impulse of the moment, and flung out a hand to keep her back.

"No. It is impossible. You are mad. Think of Mallard."

"Mallard!"

"Of Richard Mallard, whom you deceived, and deserted, and ruined!"

Before the last words left his mouth, she had fallen fainting on the floor. The name evidently recalled some painful memory, as Dan, on remembering the anguish of Merle, guessed it would. He was sorry that he had mentioned it, but, so awkwardly was he placed, that he saw no way out of the position but to act in what he considered a brutal fashion. It proved efficacious, for Miss Linisfarne lay at his feet in a swoon, and he was free to go.

Ringing the bell hastily he committed the insensible woman to the care of the astonished housekeeper, and rushed away with his brain on fire.

"She is mad! mad!" he said, as he ran down the avenue. "But what else could I do? Mallard! Mallard and Merle! What does it all mean? Only one person can solve the mystery of Miss Linisfarne, and that is Tinker Tim."