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The ready tears spring into Mona's eyes. She is more deeply, passionately grateful to him for this small speech than he will ever know. Geoffrey, stooping over to wake her with a kiss, marks all this, and also that her eyelids are tinged with pink, as though from excessive weeping. "That's me," says Mona, glancing at him archly from under her long lashes..
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He had left Mona in the morning at the Grosvenor, and had run down to have it out with his mother and get her permission to bring Mona to the Towers to be introduced to her and his brothers. This he preferred to any formal calling on their parts. "I don't mind," says Mona. "We are Paddies, of course." "It is too late," says Lady Rodney, in a stifled tone. "I have said so many things about you, that—that——" Mona is happier than words can say. She is up to her eyes in the business, that business sweetest to a woman's soul, the ordering and directing and general management of a trousseau. In her case she is doubly blessed, because she has the supervizing of two!.
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