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"I think so, Mona. There is one thing I shall never get." "The question was strictly in bad taste," says Lady Rodney again. "No well-bred man would ask it. I can hardly believe I know him. He must have been some impossible person." "To Bantry," says Mona, growing white again,—"to-night! Oh, do you want to kill me and yourself?".

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"I don't know," says Mona unconvinced. "I would go against all the people in the world rather than be bad to you. And to forsake him, too, at the very time when he will most want sympathy, at the very hour of his great trouble. Oh! that is shameful! I shall not like her, I think." "Do not stir," says Mona, hastily, pointing to the bloodhounds. Allspice has risen—so has the hair on his back—and is looking thunder-claps at Paul. A low growl breaks from him. He is plainly bent upon reducing to reason whosoever shall dispute the will of his beloved mistress. "The dogs know their orders, and will obey me. Down, Allspice, down. You will do well, sir, to remain exactly where you are," continues Mona. "I must go now. Good-night," says Mona, kindly if coldly. He escorts her to the door of the conservatory There Lauderdale, who is talking with some men, comes forward and offers her his arm to take her to the carriage. And then adieux are said, and the duke accompanies her downstairs, whilst Lady Rodney contents herself with one of her sons. "Ye—es; he will do," says Mona, after a second's careful thought, and even now reluctantly..