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."