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"I am sorry I can tell you nothing," says Mona, shaking her head. "I was never in this wood before; I know nothing of it." "Why not say the duke too?" says his mother, with a cold glance, to whom praise of Mona is anything but "cakes and ale." "Her flirtation with him is very apparent. It is disgraceful. Every one is noticing and talking about it. Geoffrey alone seems determined to see nothing! Like all under-bred people, she cannot know satisfaction unless perched upon the topmost rung of the ladder." "But I wish it had been any one but Mona," says Geoffrey, still agitated..
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Only a little withered bunch of heather, tied by a blade of grass! Nothing more! "I do remember it," replies she, bitterly. She glances anxiously at Mona, who is gazing into the fire with a slight frown upon her brow, that looks sadly out of place on that smooth white surface. At Violet's last words it flies away, not to return. "Oh, if I had not given you that pistol," sobs Mona, who cannot conquer the horror of the thought that she has helped him to his death, "you would be alive and strong now.".
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