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The next morning the young man awoke and went on toward the next butte. It took him a long summer's day to get there, but he found there no lodge, so he lay down and slept. Again he dreamed. In his dream he saw a little lodge, and saw an old woman come to the door and heard her call to him. He went into the lodge, and she spoke to him. "I regret—" begins Lady Rodney, stonily; but Mona by a gesture stays her. Nolly alone of all the group stands aloof, joining not at all in the unspoken congratulations, and feeling indeed like nothing but the guilty culprit that he is..
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He says this quickly, yet fearfully. If she should take his proposal badly, what shall he do? He stares with flattering persistency upon a distant donkey that adorns a neighboring field, and calmly awaits fate. It is for once kind to him. Mona, it is quite evident, fails to see any impropriety in his speech. "Yet she would renounce her love, would betray him for the sake of filthy lucre," says Mona, gravely. "I cannot understand that." Sir Nicholas, just moving his glass from one eye to the other, says "Good evening" to him, bending his head courteously, nay, very civilly, though without a touch, or suspicion of friendliness. He does not put out his hand, however, and Paul Rodney, having acknowledged his salutation by a bow colder and infinitely more distant than his own, turns to Mona. "I never saw anything so clean as the walks," says Mona, presently: "there is not a leaf or a weed to be seen, yet we have gone through so many of them. How does she manage it?".
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