"No. I know it was Jem, and when he came towards me I ran away: it was hateful, hateful of me; and yet I just believe that I'd do it right over again. I don't want Jem. I couldn't leave you all." Sheila's voice was heard calling in the garden. "I must go," said Meg hurriedly. "But I feel sure Sheila will understand and forgive when she knows. She would never let me have anything to do with Jem—I know she wouldn't." Miss Gregson watched the girl hastily making her way into the garden and sighed. "What have you and Miss Gregson been talking about?" said Sheila, as Meg came in sight, "I'm surprised that you have not already apologized for your conduct yesterday. I suppose you are aware that you spoilt my party." "I've been longing to tell you how sorry I am, and to explain." "Explain? I don't think an explanation is needed. It was stupid self-consciousness of course on your part, and you never thought of my disappointment or vexation. You have humiliated me before all my friends; and then instead of coming to express your sorrow to me last night, you went quietly to bed as if nothing had happened." "I felt too miserable last night to tell you what happened." "Nonsense," said Sheila irritably, "nothing happened. It was mere loss of self-control on your part. Your conduct only proves to me that environment is not as powerful as I imagined. I'm utterly disappointed in you. Indeed I could never have thought you capable of repaying my kindness in this way. You have made me ridiculous before all my friends." "I don't understand," said Meg slowly. "I daresay not. It was foolish of me ever to dream for a moment that the effect of all those years before I knew you could be washed out like writing off a slate." Meg stared at Sheila. What did she mean, she wondered; was she going to send her away? The girl felt too stunned at the thought to speak. It was as if in a nightmare that she heard Sheila's next words. "Well, have you nothing to say?" Jem was forgotten in the awful suspicion that Sheila wanted to get rid of her. The girl's lips were white as she stammered out the question the answer to which meant so much to her. "Do you want me to go?" she asked faintly. "Well, I can't say that I see much good in you staying much longer," said Sheila, turning away so as not to face those large pathetic eyes that were fastened on her face. "I don't mean you need go at once. You can stay a month to look round and to make your plans, and happily I have put you in the way of earning your living. You ought to be able to give singing lessons by this time." For a moment there was silence, then Meg of the Heather forgot all her efforts to please Sheila, and was once more the untamed wild creature of the hedges and ditches.