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"Send down to the Farm, and I will give you some brandy," says Mona to a woman standing by, after a lengthened gaze at the prostrate form of Kitty, who makes no sign of life. "She wants it." Laying her hand on Kitty's shoulder, she shakes her gently. "Rouse yourself," she says, kindly, yet with energy. "Try to think of something,—anything except your cruel misfortune.",

"Well, then, I think it is only just you should be unhappy," says Mona, with some vehemence. "Those who seek to scatter misery broadcast among their fellows should learn to taste of it themselves.",

She turns slowly, and finds her fellow-pedestrian is a young man clad in a suit of very impossible tweed: she blushes hotly, not because he is a young man, but because she has no hat on her head, having covered her somewhat riotous hair with a crimson silk handkerchief she had found in Geoffrey's room, just before starting. It covers her head completely, and is tied under the chin Connemara fashion, letting only a few little love-locks be seen, that roam across her forehead, in spite of all injunctions to the contrary.,

"Yes; I know it! Oh, do not wait to ask questions, but go. Even now they may have suspected my purpose, and may be coming here to prevent your ever returning."

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"No, you must not think that. To wear anything that becomes you must be the perfection of dressing. Why wear a Tam O'Shanter hat when one looks hideous in it? And then too much study spoils effect: you know what Herrick says:—,

"It entirely depends on what you consider a lady," says Geoffrey, calmly, keeping his temper wonderfully, more indeed for Mona's sake than his own. "You think a few grandfathers and an old name make one: I dare say it does. It ought, you know; though I could tell you of several striking exceptions to that rule. But I also believe in a nobility that belongs alone to nature. And Mona is as surely a gentlewoman in thought and deed as though all the blood of all the Howards was in her veins.",

"Nicholas, what is the meaning of this?" says Geoffrey, a few moments later, coming up with a darkening brow to where Nicholas is leaning against a wall. "What has possessed Mona to give that fellow a dance? She must be mad, or ignorant, or forgetful of everything. She was with you: why did you not prevent it?",

"Yes, you do," says Mona, with a little obstinate shake of her head. "You call us dirty, for one thing."