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The man draws back hurriedly, and the woman once more sinks back into her forlorn position. "I have no card but my name is Geoffrey Rodney," says the young man, turning to his companion. "I am not pretending," says Mona, indignantly; "I am delighted: it is the most enchanting place I ever saw. Really lovely.".
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"Oh, no," says Mona, shocked at this interpretation of her manner. "I did not mean all that; only I really did not require it; at least"—truthfully—"not much. And, besides, a song is not like a gold chain; and you are quite different from them; and besides, again,"—growing slightly confused, yet with a last remnant of courage,—"there is no reason why you should give me anything. Shall I"—hurriedly—"sing something else for you?" "Thank you," says Geoffrey, a little dryly, accepting her words as they are said, not as he feels they are meant. "I think the days are lengthening," says Violet, quietly, defending Mona unconsciously, and almost without knowing why. Yet in her heart—against her will as it were—she is making room for this Irish girl, who, with her great appealing eyes and tender ways, is not to be resisted. Violet, rising, flings from her the work she has been amusing herself with, and, with a gesture of impatience very foreign to her usual reserve goes up to Mona, and, slipping her arm round her, takes her quietly out of the room..
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