CHAPTER XXV.

JEALOUSY.

Miss Linisfarne recovered from her swoon to find that her machinations

had proved unsuccessful. She had lied in saying that Meg was engaged

to be married, and she had humiliated herself at the feet of a man who

scorned her. These things were sufficient in themselves to cause her

to repent of her folly, but, in place of learning a lesson from such

rebuffs, she became still more inflamed against the girl whom she

professed to love. Enraged by her failure and humiliation, she cast

about for some means whereby to punish Meg, whom she unjustly regarded

as the cause of her sufferings. No one was more prone than Miss

Linisfarne to lay the burden of her follies on others.

The reference by Dan to her lover of twenty years before, led her to

fancy that he knew more about her life than was actually the case. She

began to believe that this unknown man was well acquainted with the

shameful history which had led to her retirement, and had come down to

Farbis for the express purpose of recalling it to her mind. Ignorant

of the identity of Dr. Merle with Mallard, she could not conceive how

Dan had learned her secret, since she had confided it to no one in

Farbis. Yet it was known to him, as was apparent from his utterance of

the name, and he had used it in order to humiliate her to the dust.

Her mad love for him gave place to rage and resentment, and she longed

to find an opportunity to punish him for his disdain and knowledge.

On calm reflection, she saw that, by parting him from Meg, she could

render him miserable, and so resolved to see the girl, and, by lying

to her as she had to Dan, to effectually prevent their marriage. Well

aware that by her own acts she had prevented Meg from visiting at the

Court, she resolved to go in person to Dr. Merle's house and see her

rival. Her plan of action was not clear in her mind, but all she

wanted was to achieve a lifelong separation between the pair. With

this amiable object she repaired that same afternoon, alone and on

foot, to the house of the doctor.

It had been Dan's intention to speak personally to Meg; to demand from

her own lips a refutation of the lies uttered by Miss Linisfarne. But

on arriving at his camp he found a messenger from the vicar,

requesting him to come down to the village on that evening, and this

invitation Dan readily obeyed, as he was anxious to make a confidant

of the vicar, and to ask his advice with regard to the revelations

made by Tinker Tim, by Dr. Merle, and by Miss Linisfarne. He,

therefore, deemed it politic to postpone his visit to Meg until he had

seen the vicar, as in his future course he thought it would be wise to

be guided by the strong common sense of Jarner. Had he suspected Miss

Linisfarne's intention of poisoning the mind of Meg, he might have

altered his plans; but, as it was, he was ignorant of her schemes and

quite unprepared to counteract her wiles. So far Fortune declared

itself in favour of the enemy.

When Miss Linisfarne was announced as waiting for an interview, Meg

was in the dark room with her father. She was astonished at the visit,

as she could not think what reason her benefactress could have for

calling on her. Dr. Merle was also surprised and very much alarmed, as

he thought that this unexpected appearance of the woman he loved was

due to a use made of his indiscreet revelations to Dan. With much

agitation he implored Meg not to let Miss Linisfarne see him, though,

with characteristic feebleness, he assigned merely selfish reasons for

this strange request.

"I am ill--very ill; she will only disturb me," he reiterated

peevishly. "Why does she come here?"

"It is impossible to say, father," said Meg, reflectively. "Perhaps

she is sorry she has treated me so ill, and wants me to return to the

Court."

"Go, if she asks you, Meg; consent to anything, but do not let her see

me."

"Don't trouble yourself, father! I shall not let her enter this room."

"She may force her way in," replied Merle, in a terrified whisper;

"keep her away. Go and stop her."

Meg departed as desired, not without some wonderment at the anxiety

displayed by her father. She put it down to his retiring disposition;

for, strange as it may appear, she knew nothing of Merle's indulgence

in laudanum-drinking. He was ashamed to exhibit this vice before his

only child, and always locked himself in his room when indulging in a

debauch. Meg only knew these frequent retirements as caused by a

mysterious illness, and never for a moment suspected that they were

due to his own vices. Indeed, had she been told she would have been

none the wiser, as she was unacquainted with even the name of

laudanum. Merle's refusal to see Miss Linisfarne was quite in keeping

with his usual habits; so, after a momentary wonder at his agitation,

Meg dismissed the subject from her mind, and went into the next room

to see her visitor.

Miss Linisfarne, arrayed in black, and thickly veiled, arose to meet

her, but did not come forward with any greeting. On the contrary, she

stood still as any statue, and looked steadily at the splendid beauty

of the young girl. It was so undeniable that she recognized the

inferiority of her faded charms at once, and sank back in her chair

with a sigh. This Meg interpreted as a sign of sorrow that they had

been parted, and with great tenderness took the hand of--as she deemed

her to be--her friend. The situation was not without a suspicion of

irony.

"I am so glad to see you, Miss Linisfarne," she said, kissing the

elder woman. "I was afraid you were angry with me, and so kept away

from the Court."

"It was for your own good, Meg, that I was angry."

"For my own good!" repeated Meg, rather astounded at this assertion.

"What do you mean, Miss Linisfarne? Did I disobey you in anyway, that

you banished me from Farbis Court? Was my conduct distasteful to you,

that you so reproved me? What do you mean by saying your anger was for

my own good?"

Miss Linisfarne smiled under her veil at the indignation of the girl,

and uttered only one word in reply. It had not the effect she

anticipated.

"Dan!" she said, with much significance.

"What about Dan?" demanded Meg, in a puzzled tone.

"It was on his account I wished you to keep away from the Court."

"I don't understand!"

"No, poor child!" said Miss Linisfarne, in a pitying tone. "How can

you, with your youth and innocence and provincial education, be

expected to understand the baseness of man?"

"If you mean that Dan is base," replied Meg, bluntly, "I don't believe

it. He is as good a man as Mr. Jarner."

"I am afraid not, Meg."

"You need not be afraid, Miss Linisfarne. I have seen Dan daily for

the last three months, and every day I have grown to like him better."

"Are you in love with him?" sneered Miss Linisfarne.

Meg laughed heartily. Such an idea had never entered her mind, and she

thought Miss Linisfarne was joking.

"Of course I am not in love with him," she said, smiling; "why, we are

like brother and sister."

"You think so, but he does not. I tell you, Meg, he is a dishonourable

man."

"And I tell you he is not!"

"He has a brave defender, I see! But what do you say of a man who

professes to love two women at the same time?"

"I should call him a scoundrel. But such a thing is impossible. No one

can love two women at once."

"Dan can," retorted Miss Linisfarne, in a taunting manner; "he loves

you, and professes to love me."

"Stop, stop!" cried Meg, with a bewildered expression of countenance.

"What do you say? Dan loves me?"

"Yes!"

"That is impossible! He has never, in any way, hinted at such a

thing."

"No! Because he was afraid of my anger."

"Of your anger!"

"Yes! He came to Farbis Court yesterday and declared that he loved

me--that he wished to make me his wife."

"Oh, I cannot believe it," said Meg, jealously.

"Nevertheless, it is true! He proposed to marry me; but I refused his

offer with scorn."

"Why did you do that?"

Miss Linisfarne raised her veil, and showed a face inflamed with

anger. Having once committed herself, she did not measure her words,

and raged on without considering the harm she was doing. The belief

Meg had in Dan enraged her, and she was determined to blacken his

character in the girl's eyes, so that any tenderness Meg might have

towards him should be crushed in its infancy.

"Why did I do that?" she cried, with rapid speech. "Because his offer

was an insult. He said that he loved you; in every action he has shown

that he loved you. Fool that you are, do you think a man would stay in

this place for weeks and weeks had he not been influenced by your

presence? He was in love with me also--the base, dishonourable

villain!"

"If so, why did he ask you to be his wife?" said Meg, calmly, though

her heart was beating wildly.

"Because he is a base and dishonourable man. He loved you for your

looks, child, but he wished to marry me for my money."

"No, no!"

"I tell you it is true," resumed Miss Linisfarne, vehemently. "Why

should I, who have been a mother to you, tell a falsehood? This man

has insulted us both. Now that I have repelled him he will come to you

with loving words, and you--what will you say?"

"If he has done what you say, I shall treat him with scorn."

"Do you not believe me?"

"No, Miss Linisfarne, I do not," replied Meg, facing round with great

indignation. "I do not believe your story. If Dan proposed to you he

does not love me. If he loves me as you say, he did not propose to

you. I shall know the truth from his own lips."

"Will you ask him?" demanded Miss Linisfarne, rather alarmed at the

turn affairs had taken.

"Of course I shall ask him. And, what is more, I shall believe his

answer."

"You love him, girl--you love him!"

"I do. Until you spoke I only felt like a sister to him, but now you

have put his conduct in a new light, and I feel what I never felt

before. I do love him, and on his answer shall depend the happiness or

the misery of my life."

Thus Miss Linisfarne, by her jealousy, had brought about the very

catastrophe she desired to avoid. She recognized that her wiles were

worse than useless before the honest character of the girl, and

silently admitted that she was again beaten. She had failed with Dan,

now she failed with Meg. Only retreat remained.

"You fool!" she said cruelly. "Ask him, and believe his lies. Your

misery dates from that moment."

She swept from the room with a haughty carriage, and left Meg

bewildered and afraid.

The Gates of Dawn · 第 25 / 30 章