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Of that mysterious instrument, the soul, "And to think we all sat pretty nearly every evening within a yard or two of that blessed will, and never knew anything about it!" he says, at last, in a tone of unmitigated disgust. "You needn't tell me that. I'm positive they couldn't be named in the same day," says Geoffrey, enthusiastically, who never in his life saw Lady Crighton, or her neck or arms..
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Still she hesitates, though betraying no vulgar awkwardness or silly mauvaise honte. Indeed, the only sign of emotion she does show is a soft slow blush, that, mounting quickly, tips even her little ears with pink. Turning sorrowfully away, she drops some silver into the poor widow's lap; whereon Geoffrey, who has been standing close to her all the time, covers it with two sovereigns. "I sha'n't mind it very much," says Mona, earnestly. "It will be after all, only one half hour out of my whole day." "I have heard too much already. I won't listen to any more. 'Lady Rodney!' I dare say"—with awful meaning in her tone—"you have got a title too!" Then, sternly, "Have you?".
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