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"This spot always brings to my mind the thoughts of other people," says Mona, softly. "I am very fond of poetry: are you?" Just now his forehead is drawn up into a deep frown, as he reads the fatal letter that has reduced his mother to a Niobe. Another young man, his brother, Captain Rodney, who is two or three years younger than he, is looking over his shoulder, while a slight, brown-haired, very aristocratic looking girl is endeavoring, in a soft, modulated voice, to convey comfort to Lady Rodney. At this moment, Geoffrey—who has been absent—saunters into the room, and, after a careless glance around, says, lightly, as if missing something,—.
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"You will give me an explanation at once," says Geoffrey, slowly, addressing his cousin. "What brought you here?" And indeed the thought of this distant fern is as dear to Mona as to him. For to her comes a rush of tender joy, as she tells herself she may soon be growing in this alien earth a green plant torn from her fatherland. "He was the Duke of Lauderdale," says Mona, simply. "Here is his card." "What a funny boy you are!" says Mona, with a little laugh..
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