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"I will burn them with my own hands," says Mona. "An' what brought him home, the murdherin' scamp," says Miss Bridget, with more vehemence than politeness, "instid of stayin' wid ye to see ye came to no harm?" "Thanks!" returns he, with an ironical laugh. "How excellently your tone agrees with your words?".
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He is silent for a full minute; then he says,— She flushes, opens her lips as if to speak, and yet is dumb,—perhaps through excess of emotion. In truth he is. So when he has acknowledged the melancholy fact, they both laugh, with the happy enjoyment of youth, at their own discomfiture, and go back to the cottage good friends once more. He takes little trouble about anything, certainly none to make himself popular, yet in all the countryside no man is so well beloved as he is. It is true that a kindly word here, or a smile in the right place, does more to make a man a social idol than substantial deeds of charity doled out by an unsympathetic hand. This may be unjust; it is certainly beyond dispute the fact..
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