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Mother of stars! the heavens look up to thee." "Then get a chair for yourself, at least, as you will not permit me to go to your aid," he entreats. "I am your prisoner,—perhaps," in a low tone, "the most willing captive that ever yet was made." She motions impatiently with her hand, and Geoffrey, being compelled to it by her vehemence, draws a high chair close to that part of the wall that seems to have claimed her greatest attention..

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The fire blazes up fiercely, and anon drops its flame and sinks into insignificance once more. Again the words that bear some vague but as yet undiscovered meaning haunt Mona's brain. "A splendid scheme." A vile conspiracy, perhaps. Oh, that she might be instrumental in saving these people from ruin, among whom her lot had been cast! But how weak her arm! How insufficient her mind to cope with an emergency like this! "I sha'n't go to bed at all," declares Mrs. Geoffrey, excitedly. "I shall never go to bed again, I think, until all this is cleared up. Geoffrey, bring me over that chair." This answer, being so full of thorough unconsciousness and childish naivete, has the effect of reducing the duke to common sense once more, and of making him very properly ashamed of himself. He feels, however, rather out of it for a minute or two, which feeling renders him silent and somewhat distrait. So Mona, flung upon her own resources, looks round the room seeking for inspiration, and presently finds it. CHAPTER XXIII..