"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.
[CHAPTER XXVI.]
CUPID IN ARCADY.
When Dan explained to Jarner the equivocal position in which he was placed by the folly of Miss Linisfarne, the vicar urged him to end all mysteries by declaring his name and rank. Also to ask Meg to be his wife, and thus ascertain, beyond all question, the state of her feelings. Miss Linisfarne's story of an engagement to Byrne of Silkstone was scouted by Jarner with much wrath.
"What can the woman be thinking of?" he said. "The whole story is false--there is not even a man in Silkstone called Byrne. She must have known that you would tell me this, and that I would be able to deny it."
"No doubt she thought that, in the revulsion of feeling caused by her false word, I would ask her to marry me."
"Very probably. I do not so much blame as pity her. The poor woman suffers from hysteria. When she comes to her senses she will be sorry enough for her behaviour."