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"Oh, do take care!" cries Mona, in an agony: "it is loaded. If you throw it about in that rough fashion, it will certainly go off and do you some injury." "Oh, no, I haven't, now," says Rodney, reassuringly "You don't look a bit unhappy; you only look as sweet as an angel." "It was two hours ago," says Mona, gently. "And then it was quite daylight, or at least"—truthfully—"only the beginning of dusk.".

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"She has got one nose and two eyes, just like every one else," says Nolly. "That is rather disappointing, is it not? And she attitudinizes a good deal. Sometimes she reclines full length upon the grass, with her bony elbow well squared and her chin buried in her palm. Sometimes she stands beside a sundial, with her head to one side, and a carefully educated and very much superannuated peacock beside her. But I dare say she will do the greyhound pose to-day. In summer she goes abroad with a huge wooden fan with which she kills the bumble-bee as it floats by her. And she gowns herself in colors that make one's teeth on edge. I am sure it is her one lifelong regret that she must clothe herself at all, as she has dreams of savage nakedness and a liberal use of the fetching woad." "Indeed she will not;" says Mona indignantly. "Irish peasants very seldom do that. She will, I am sure, be faithful forever to the memory of the man she loved." "I felt nothing, nothing, but the one thing that I was powerless to help you," says Mona, passionately; "that was bitter." Her face is hidden; it is lying on her arms, and they are cast, in the utter recklessness and abandonment of her grief, across the feet of him who, only yesterday, had been her "man,"—her pride and her delight..