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
_protégée_, 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.