When the villagers straggled up from Farbis, with looks of dull surprise at his comfortable camp, Dan did his best to put them at their ease. But the bucolic character does not lend itself readily to friendly intercourse, and he gave up the task in despair. They ate and drank at his expense, grinned and wondered, but never ventured to offer an opinion. Between such and the keen-faced gipsies there was a difference as wide as that between eagle and barn-door fowl. Dan grew weary of their dull company, and gave them to understand as much, so they gradually ceased to persecute him with visits. Mother Jericho, Tim, and Parson Jarner were constantly in the dell both by day and by night; but Meg never came, though over four days had elapsed since their meeting. At length she made her appearance late in the afternoon, and found Dan making ready to visit the gipsy camp. When he saw her coming down the path he changed his mind, and, cap in hand, went forward to receive her with all honour. "Welcome to the dell, Meg," said he, extending a hand ceremoniously; "permit me to lead you to a seat by the fire." "I thank you greatly, Sir Charles Grandison," she answered gravely, accepting the offer; and in such formal fashion was conducted to the log, where she sat down, and laughed. "Are you surprised to see me, Dan?" "Not at all! You promised to pay me a visit." "So I did; but I nearly changed my mind for lack of a chaperon." "What do you know of chaperons?" said Dan, with an amused smile. "We don't require such spoil-sports here." "Miss Linisfarne said it was wrong for me to visit you without an elderly lady to take charge of me," said the visitor, demurely. "Indeed!" replied Dan, feeling unaccountably nettled at this uncalled-for interference. "Then why did she not come herself?" "She never goes anywhere--poor soul," said Meg, with a sigh; "you must not be angry at her. I was only joking about a chaperon; I rather think I can look after myself." "I rather think so too," answered her host, glancing at the proud face of the young girl; "but, to quieten your scruples, let us call this dell Arcady. In Arcady chaperons are unneeded and unknown." "I hope tea and bread-and-butter are not unknown," said Meg, quaintly; "for I have been on the moors all day, and came here for the selfish purpose of begging a meal." "You shall have one fit for a queen. Order what you like, and I shall place it before you." "You are, then, the Genie of the Ring?" retorted Meg, laughing; "but I think I can place you at a disadvantage. Suppose I call for champagne and oysters?" "Oh, come, now, you must be reasonable. Though, indeed," added Dan, with a sudden remembrance of his cellar, "I can supply you with champagne. Oysters I have not--not even tinned ones." "No, no!" cried Meg, as he advanced towards the caravan. "Please do not trouble. I was only joking. I never tasted champagne in my life." "All the more reason that you should begin now."