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"She is painfully deficient; positively without brains," says Lady Rodney, with conviction. "What was the answer she made me when I asked about the carriage? Something utterly outside the mark." A very charming vision clad in Oxford shirting, and with a great white hat tied beneath her rounded chin with blue ribbons,—something in the style of a Sir Joshua Reynolds,—emerges from among the low-lying firs at this moment. Having watched the (seemingly) light catastrophe from afar, and being apparently amused by it, she now gives way to unmistakable mirth and laughs aloud. When Mona laughs, she does it with all her heart, the correct method of suppressing all emotion, be it of joy or sorrow,—regarding it as a recreation permitted only to the vulgar,—being as yet unlearned by her. Therefore her expression of merriment rings gayly and unchecked through the old wood. "I do not understand," she says, very proudly, throwing up her head with a charming gesture. "And, talking of forgetfulness, do you know what hour it is?" "Oh," said the Raven, "you do not believe me. Come outside, come outside, and I will make you believe.".