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"I am afraid there is only one fairy on earth just now, and that is you," says Nicholas, with a faint smile, smoothing back her pretty hair with loving fingers, and gazing fondly into the blue eyes that have grown so big and earnest during their discussion. What a world is to be opened up to her! How severe the test to which she will be exposed! Does she really think the whole earth is peopled with beings pure and perfect as herself? "I shall not be too nervous," says Mona, but her face blanches afresh even as she speaks; and Geoffrey sees it..
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Seeing brandy, on a table near, she pours a little into a glass with a shaking hand, and passing her arm beneath his neck, holds it to his parched lips. "What on earth is a shin?" puts in Geoffrey, sotto voce. By this time they have reached Dorothy's room, and now, sitting down, gaze mournfully at each other. Mona is so truly grieved that any one might well imagine this misfortune, that is rendering the very air heavy, in her own, rather than another's. And this wholesale sympathy, this surrendering of her body and mind to a grief that does not touch herself, is inexpressibly sweet to her poor little friend. Behind the house rises a thick wood,—a "solemn wood," such as Dickens loved to write of, with its lights and shades and every-varying tints. A gentle wind is rushing through it now; the faint murmur of some "hidden brook," singing its "quiet tune," fall upon the ear; some happy birds are warbling in the thickets. It is a day whose beauty may be felt..
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