"Forgive me, and I will never forget again," he replied. "Will you not let me discuss the case of the poacher with you—of the other wrongs that exist—will you help me to advocate the rights of the tenants and laborers without wounding the landlord?"
"I will never discuss with you again," said Meg hastily; and with a quick bow she left him and passed within the gates.
As she went up the avenue she caught sight of Sir Malcolm wandering up and down the yew-tree walk. He saw her and came forward to meet her. The emotion of the morning still left its traces upon his features. He held a letter.
"I have heard from my late secretary," he said. "He writes from London. He will be back in a few days."
"Then, sir, I suppose I must resign my post," said Meg in a pained voice. "I have been happy in serving you."
"You seem to think that all the use you are to me is to serve me, read to me, work for me. Can you conceive yourself of no other use?" said Sir Malcolm in gentler tones than she had ever heard him speak.
"Of what other use can I be, sir, to you?"
"The use of bringing pleasure to me by your simple presence in my house," he said, taking her hand.
"I would be unhappy if I felt myself an idle dependant upon you, sir," Meg said, shy pride giving a touch of awkwardness to her attitude and an embarrassed tone to her voice.