"In London, I believe," she said rather contemptuously. "I have no doubt he is one of those finical fine gentlemen of whom Miss Linisfarne talks." "That is not a flattering portrait," said Dan, smiling. "Probably not; but I have no doubt it is a true one." "Are you sure of that, Miss Merle?" "I told you I am not Miss Merle, Mr. Dan." "Then address me as Dan, if you want me to be less formal." "Of course I shall call you Dan," said she, opening her eyes in feigned surprise. "What else should I call you?" "Sir Alurde!" Meg laughed at this sally. They were getting very friendly, much to Dan's delight. All at once, as though recollecting herself, she ceased laughing and made as if to go. Dan stepped eagerly forward. "Let me carry your gun, Meg." "What for? I can carry it myself," she replied bluntly. "I would rather relieve you of the burden." "Very well, Dan. Take those other two rabbits; but I'll carry my own gun, thank you. What queer ideas you have! Just like those of Miss Linisfarne." "Does she carry your burdens?" asked Dan, gravely. They were now walking down the winding road to the village. "I should think not," replied Meg, laughing at the bare idea. "But you have the same manners as she has." "Is that a compliment?" "Oh no! It is the truth. My father is not at all like you, nor is Mr. Jarner, the vicar. I have never seen any one like you," she finished, looking at him with great interest. "Not even Sir Alurde?" "Oh, don't talk any more of that picture, or I shall be sorry I spoke of it." She was quite unsophisticated, and frankly uttered the thoughts that came into her mind. Hence the flimsy dialogue which ensued between them. Dan, unused to such candour, could not help feeling charmed at the purity of the soul thus laid bare to his gaze. "I saw you at the Gates of Dawn," said she, with an evident desire to change the subject. "Were you not very shocked at my appearing with bare feet?" "I was charmed." "Nonsense, Dan! It was an accident. I was swimming, and the tide carried away my shoes and stockings. I did not mind it much till I saw you. Then I felt dreadfully ashamed." "Why should you? 'Beauty unadorned is adorned the most!'" "You speak like Sir Charles Grandison," said Meg, with a blush at the compliment. "Ah! you have read that book?" "Yes. I like it very much. Miss Linisfarne has many old novels in her library, but she will not let me read all of them." "It is best to rely on her taste," said Dan, not relishing the idea of this innocent reading Richardson's contemporaries. "Are you fond of reading?" "Not very. I prefer fishing or shooting." "Who taught you to fish and shoot?" "Tim and Parson Jarner. You don't know him, do you? He's a dear old man, and so fond of dogs and horses." "Rather peculiar tastes for a clergyman." "Why so?" She opened her eyes wide at his remark, and as he had no wish to be the first to teach her worldly wisdom, Dan dismissed the subject.