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Seeing further talk is useless, Mona slips her hand into Rodney's and leads him down the road. A flower that dieth when first it 'gins to bud, "I am afraid there is only one fairy on earth just now, and that is you," says Nicholas, with a faint smile, smoothing back her pretty hair with loving fingers, and gazing fondly into the blue eyes that have grown so big and earnest during their discussion..

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"Oh not for ever so long," returns she, with much and heartless unconcern. (His spirits sink to zero.) "Certainly not until Friday," she goes on, carelessly. (As this is Wednesday, his spirits once more rise into the seventh heaven.) "Or Saturday, or Sunday, or perhaps some day next week," she says, unkindly. This is half a question; and Geoffrey, answering it from his heart, sinks even deeper into the mire. The naivete of this speech is not to be surpassed. "I did get on to it, if you mean the laurel," says Nolly with calm dignity. "I climbed most manfully, and, beyond slipping all down the trunk of the tree twice, and severely barking my shins, I sustained no actual injury.".