Much perplexed at my position, I consulted Mr. Jarner, as he is gifted with good common sense, and is remarkably shrewd in giving advice. He ascribed her strange conduct to hysteria, and said there was no truth in her assertion that Meg was engaged--nay, more, that Byrne of Silkstone was a myth. Why Miss Linisfarne should tell such falsehoods and offer to marry me I cannot say; but, as I remarked before, it is useless to attempt to fathom her character. My own opinion is, that seclusion has tended to unhinge her mind and destroy her self-control. No sane person would have acted as she has done. From charity, therefore, let us give her the benefit of the doubt, and say that she is mad. Yet there is a method in her madness which is hurtful to those whom she designs to injure. I am one of those unfortunates. When she found that I refused to marry, her love changed to hate, and she is a living example of the truth of Congreve's couplet-- "Heav'n has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned." With a view, therefore, to blast my happiness, she sought Meg, and lied to her as she did to me. Declared that I wished to marry her for the sake of her wealth, that I was a base villain, an escaped criminal, a nameless outcast, and made me out to be the most abandoned of mankind. Meg retorted with spirit, and defended me, but could not help thinking that there might be some truth in these accusations. I can hardly blame her for such belief. She knew nothing, or comparatively nothing of me, whereas Miss Linisfarne has been her friend and benefactress for years. Unfortunately for Miss Linisfarne and fortunately for myself, I chanced to meet Meg at the Gates of Dawn, and speedily disabused her mind of all those malignant accusations. I denied that I had asked Miss Linisfarne to marry me because I wanted her money, and, in proof of the absurdity of such an idea, confessed my name and rank. Before doing so, however, I asked Meg to be my wife, and she, believing my bare word, accepted my offer. Can you wonder, then, that I should love and honour and esteem a woman who was prepared to marry a nameless outcast for his own worth? She is as simple and loving as a child, and I consider myself the most fortunate of men in winning her golden heart. What is rank, or title, or wealth compared with such pure love! She loves me, not my worldly advantages. Confess now, cynic as you are, that I have chosen wisely. Ah, Jack, the noblest gift that God can bestow on a man is the gift of a pure good woman's heart. I have gained this pearl without price, and henceforth have nothing better to gain from heaven.