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He, too, looks at her. The same thought fills them both. As they are together there in the water, so (pray they) "may we be together in life." This hope is sweet almost to solemnity. "I shall feel regret," says, Mona, brokenly, the tears running down her cheeks. For again news came from Australia that the former tidings of George Rodney's death had been false; that he had only died a twelvemonth since; that he had married almost on first going out, and that his son was coming home to dispute Sir Nicholas's right to house and home and title..

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"Don't let us quarrel," he says, lovingly. And this time she returns his caress very fondly, though she cannot lose sight of the fact that he has committed a social error not to be lightly overlooked. And now what remains to be told? But little, I think! For my gentle Mona has reached that haven where she would be! The bell stops, and a loud knock at the hall-door takes its place. Was ever sweeter sound heard anywhere? Mona draws her breath quickly, and then as though ashamed of herself goes on stoically with her task. Yet for all her stoicism her color comes and goes, and now she is pale, and now "celestial, rosy red, love's proper hue," and now a little smile comes up and irradiates her face. "Show Mr. Rodney in here, Bridget," says Mona unflinchingly, not looking at the distressed maid, or indeed at anything but the unobservant butter. And Bridget, with a sigh that strongly resembles the snort of a war-horse, ushers Mr. Rodney into the dairy..