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Some stories of this kind are these:,

"Oh, not yet!" entreats faithful Mona, in a miserable tone; "not yet. Remember what I said. I promised to remain with him until the very end.",

To this name, given to her in such an unkindly spirit, Mona clings with singular pertinacity. Once when Nolly has called her by it in Lady Rodney's hearing, the latter raises her head, and a remorseful light kindles in her eyes; and when Mr. Darling has taken himself away she turns entreatingly to Mona, and, with a warm accession of coloring, says, earnestly,—,

After a time the water began to boil and the old man turned his quiver upside down over the pot, and immediately there came from it a sound of a child crying, as if it were being hurt. The old people both looked in the kettle and there they saw a little boy, and they quickly took him out of the water. They were surprised and did not know where the child had come from. The old woman wrapped the child up and wound a line about its wrappings to keep them in place, making a lashing for the child. Then they talked about it, wondering what should be done with it. They thought that if their son-in-law knew it was a boy he would kill it; so they determined to tell their daughters that the baby was a girl, for then their son-in-law would think that he was going to have another wife. So he would be glad. They called the child Kŭt-o-yĭs´—Clot of Blood.

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"By Jove, you know, it is odd," says Geoffrey, presently, speaking as one might who has for long been following out a train of thought by no means unpleasant, "his sending for her, and that: there must be something in it. Rodney didn't write to her for nothing. It must have been to——" Here he checks himself abruptly, remembering his promise to Mona to say nothing about the scene in the library. "It certainly means something," he winds up, a little tamely.,

"Mona, are you still there?" he says, with a return to consciousness: "did I dream, or did my father speak to me? How the night comes on!" He sighs wearily. "I am so tired,—so worn out: if I could only sleep!" he murmurs, faintly.,

"Well, no; but that is pure Irish," says Geoffrey, unmoved. Mona, with lowered head, turns her wedding-ring round and round upon her finger, and repents bitterly that little slip of hers when talking with the duchess last night.,

"No, but they are," she says, pointing to her two faithful companions, who are staring hungrily at Rodney and evidently only awaiting the word from Mona to fling themselves upon him.