“Oh, don’t!” said Meg, in a choking voice.

The mocking tone died instantly out of his voice, “Miss Meg, you used to seem such a nice little girl,” he said quietly; “what have you let that horrid MacCarthy girl spoil you for?  For she is horrid, though you may not think so.”

Meg did not speak or move, and he went on with a gentle earnestness that she had not thought him capable of..

“I have watched her on the boat, systematically going to work to spoil you, and can’t help thinking of the pity of it.  I imagined how I should feel if my little sister Flossie ever fell in with such a girl, and began to flirt and make herself conspicuous, and I wondered would you mind if I spoke to you about it.  Are you very angry with me, Miss Meg?”

But Meg leaned her head against the rough fence and began to sob-little, dry, heartbroken sobs that went to the boy’s warm heart.

“I oughtn’t to have spoken as I did at first—­I was a perfect brute,” he said remorsefully; “forgive me, won’t you?  Please, little Miss Meg—­I would rather cut my hand off than really hurt you.”

This last was a little consoling, at any rate, and Meg lifted her face half a second, white and pathetic in the moonlight, and all wet with grievous tears.

“I—­I—­oh! indeed I have not been quite so horrid as you think,” she said brokenly; “I didn’t want to come this walk—­and oh! indeed, indeed, indeed I wouldn’t allow anyone to kiss me.  Oh, please do believe me!”

“I do, I do indeed,” he said eagerly; “I only said it because—­well, because I am a great rough brute, and don’t know how to talk to a little, tender girl.  Dear Miss Meg, do shake hands and tell me you forgive my boorishness.”

Meg extended a small white hand, and he shook it warmly.  Then they walked up the paddocks together, and parted at a broken gate leading into the garden.

“I’ll never flirt again while I live,” she said with great earnestness, as he bade her good-bye; and he answered encouragingly, “No, I am quite sure you won’t—­leave it to girls like Aldith, won’t you? you only wanted to be set straight.  Good-bye, little Miss Meg.”

CHAPTER IX Consequences

“However could you do it? 
 Some day, no doubt, you’ll rue it!”

Meg’s troubles were not quite over, however, even yet.  When she got into the house Nellie met her in the hall and stared at her.

“Where have you been?” she said, a slow wonder in her round eyes.  “I’ve been hunting and hunting for you.”

“What for?” said Meg shortly.

“Oh, Dr. Gormeston and Mrs. Gormeston and two Miss Gormestons are in the drawing-room, and I think they’ll stay for ever and ever.”

“Well?” said Meg.

“And the General is ill again, and Esther says she won’t leave him for a second, not if Gog and Magog were down there dying to see her.”