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"It was only a little touch of nature," explains her Grace. "On that congratulate yourself. Nature is at a discount these days. And I—I love nature. It is so rare, a veritable philosopher's stone. You only told me what my glass tells me daily,—that I am not so young as I once was,—that, in fact, when sitting next pretty children like you, I am quite old." "Always—indeed, always!" says Mona, with tears in her eyes; after which, with a last miserable glance, he strides away, and is lost to sight among the trees. This is half a question; and Geoffrey, answering it from his heart, sinks even deeper into the mire..

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The boy—he is little more—cowers beneath her glance. He changes color, and drops the branch he holds. No excuse rises to his lips. To attempt a lie with those clear eyes upon him would be worse than useless. He turns abruptly away, and is dead to the Towers from this moment. Paul Rodney, true to his word, has put in an appearance, much to the amazement of many in the room. Almost as Mona's dance with Nolly is at an end, he makes his way to her, and asks her to give him the next. Unfortunately, she is not engaged for it, and, being unversed in polite evasions, she says yes, quietly, and is soon floating round the room with him. "Let her thry," says old Brian, in his soft, Irish brogue, that comes kindly from his tongue. "She's mighty clever about most things." "N—ot very," says Doatie, dolefully..