[CHAPTER XXVIII.]
FIRE AND FLAME.
It is difficult, nay impossible, to alter in one day the habit of years. Meg had been accustomed to repair daily to Farbis Court from her early girlhood, and, now that Miss Linisfarne had so pointedly requested her to stay away, found her life disorganized. She still roamed the moor, in the company of Dan, and was to all appearance satisfied to see nothing of Miss Linisfarne; but in her heart she regretted the breach between them, and missed greatly her daily visit. Miss Linisfarne had behaved kindly for many years to the girl, and it was not in the nature of Meg to cherish animosity towards one to whom she owed much. Regarding her benefactress as a second mother, she was disposed to overlook the past, and make the first advance towards a reconciliation. This project she unfolded to Dan.
"I cannot bear to think of her all alone in that great house," said Meg, "and, as I owe her more than I can ever repay, it is only right that I should see her."
"I am afraid your visit will not be welcome," said Dan, dubiously. "She no longer looks on you as her protégée, remember, but as a woman who has thwarted her desires."
"Still, I shall call," insisted Meg; "if she refuses to see me, or to be reconciled, I can come away again. But at least I shall have done my duty. Indeed, she has been like a mother to me. All I know is due to her and to Mr. Jarner."
"What does he say, Meg?"
"He thinks I ought to seek a reconciliation."
"In that case, I approve of your visit. What the vicar says must be right. Go and see Miss Linisfarne, my darling. It is like your kind heart to overlook her behaviour."
"Don't speak so harshly of her, Lord Ardleigh."