"Moreover, Mr. Jarner would have told me," said Dan, not heeding the taunt. Miss Linisfarne lost her temper. She had counted on resistance, but not on such a stubborn defence of Meg. Rising with flashing eyes, she stepped up to Dan, and, throwing aside all restraint, burst out into rapid speech. It was not wise for her to do so, but her love and jealousy carried her away, and she spoke wildly, madly--as she never would have spoken had she reflected for a moment. "Are you blind, sir, that you so believe in this girl? I tell you, she is engaged to be married. She does not love you--she will never love you. Why should you lay your heart at her feet only to find it spurned? Give it to me--I say, give it to me." "To you!" cried Dan, scarcely believing his ears. "Yes. You now know my secret. I love you! I love you! I wish to make you my husband. You are poor, but I am rich. Take me--take my money--only leave that wretched girl and come to me, who truly loves you." Dan stepped back a pace, and looked at her in amazement. Her face was flushed, her eyes were unnaturally bright, and her whole body trembled with emotion as she stretched out appealing hands to him. He was so utterly astonished, that for the moment he did not know what to say--what to do. "I love you. Come to me," she cried passionately. "You must see how I am prepared to give up all for you." "But I--I am not--not worthy," he stammered. "You are in my eyes." "I am poor--nameless--unknown." "What is that to me? I am rich--take my money. I have a name--take it as your own. With my name and my money you can make yourself known. Only love me." It was an extremely awkward situation. Here was Dan, standing helplessly before this impassionate woman, unable to move, almost unable to speak. He faltered, stammered, hesitated, while she with outstretched arms drew nearer. It was impossible to say how he would have extricated himself from the dilemma, had not a memory of his conversation with Merle flashed across his brain. He acted on the impulse of the moment, and flung out a hand to keep her back. "No. It is impossible. You are mad. Think of Mallard." "Mallard!" "Of Richard Mallard, whom you deceived, and deserted, and ruined!" Before the last words left his mouth, she had fallen fainting on the floor. The name evidently recalled some painful memory, as Dan, on remembering the anguish of Merle, guessed it would. He was sorry that he had mentioned it, but, so awkwardly was he placed, that he saw no way out of the position but to act in what he considered a brutal fashion. It proved efficacious, for Miss Linisfarne lay at his feet in a swoon, and he was free to go. Ringing the bell hastily he committed the insensible woman to the care of the astonished housekeeper, and rushed away with his brain on fire.