Pushed into a corner, Dan hardly knew what reply to make. She was evidently determined to force him to speak, but he was fully as obstinate as she, and doggedly refused to gratify her desire. Yet not wishing to appear rude, he temporized. "In a week or so I shall tell you my name, if you still desire to know it, Miss Linisfarne." "You promise that?" she said eagerly. "I promise you faithfully," he answered, knowing well that did he wish to enlist her in his wooing it would be shortly necessary to confess all to her, as he had already done to Jarner. Then he tried to discover her secret, and, in his turn, asked questions. She proved to be as clever as he in baffling curiosity. "Do you know Dr. Merle, madam?" "Only by name. I have never seen him, though when ill I have frequently sent for him. I cannot understand his refusal to come, but put it down to the fact that he is as great an invalid as myself, and as rarely leaves his house." "Have you met with Meg's friends, the gipsies?" "No, sir. Do I not tell you that I never go beyond the park gates? I am dead to the world. As I asked you so many questions you have, perhaps, a right to retaliate, but I must request you to ask no more." "I beg your pardon. As you observed, the strangeness of our meeting must excuse the absence of the convenances. Here is Meg returning." "Who said you might call her Meg?" "She did. I would not have done so without her permission." "You should not have taken advantage of that permission, sir. She is a child, and knows no better; but you----" "Will be more careful in the future. Do not let us quarrel again, Miss Linisfarne." She was most unaccountably angry at his familiarity with her _protégée_, but his last remark, and the smile with which it was made, seemed to quieten her wrath. She controlled herself with a strong effort, and saluted Meg gaily-- "Well, child, is the tea ready?" "Quite ready, Miss Linisfarne Are you hungry, Dan?" "Yes, Miss Merle." "Miss Merle? Why 'Miss Merle'?" "By my request, Meg," said Miss Linisfarne, angrily. "You are too old, child, for a gentleman to call you by your Christian name. Give me your arm, sir. I am too weak to walk down the stairs unaided." Dan walked about with Miss Linisfarne, and Meg, much dismayed at the outburst of her benefactress, lagged in the rear. He glanced over his shoulder, and saw that she by no means approved of the way in which Miss Linisfarne had taken possession of him. He wondered, also, at the position in which he found himself, but ceased to think it strange when he learned the cause. That first visit to the Court plunged him into troubles of which he had no conception. Yet he never regretted his acquaintance with Miss Linisfarne, in spite of the trouble, as he learned many things of importance to his future of which he would otherwise have remained ignorant. In this case out of evil came good. CHAPTER XX. IN THE OAK PARLOUR.