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"He is a little difficult; but, on the whole, I think I like Sir Mark better than most men," says Violet, slowly.,

It is early morn. "The first low breath of waking day stirs the wide air." On bush and tree and opening flower the dew lies heavily, like diamonds glistening in the light of the round sun. Thin clouds of pearly haze float slowly o'er the sky to meet its rays; and,

"Very uncomfortable for you, I fear, after your long ride," says Mona, coldly but courteously. "Why don't you go into the parlor? I am sure you will find it pleasanter there.",

"Is it necessary?" says Geoffrey, very insolently in his turn. "I think not. By the by, is it your usual practice to prowl round people's houses at two o'clock in the morning? I thought all such festive habits were confined to burglars, and blackguards of that order."

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"Oh, yes, you may go," says Mona. Geoffrey says nothing. He is looking at her with curiosity, in which deep love is mingled. She is so utterly unlike all other women he has ever met, with their petty affectations and mock modesties, their would-be hesitations and their final yieldings. She has no idea she is doing anything that all the world of women might not do, and can see no reason why she should distrust her friend just because he is a man.,

All these evidences of affection Violet notices in a dreamy, far-off fashion: she is the happier because of them; yet she only appreciates them languidly, being filled with one absorbing thought, that dulls all others. She accepts the chair, the compliment, and the tea with grace, but with somewhat vague gratitude.,

"Did you see the pig," she says, "sitting up by the fireplace? All through I couldn't take my eyes off him. He struck me as so comical. There he sat blinking his small eyes and trying to look sympathetic. I am convinced he knew all about it. I never saw so solemn a pig.",

"No, it didn't: it made it all wrong. But for that lie we should not be in the predicament in which we now find ourselves. You will understand me better when I tell you that the other day a young man turned up who declares himself to be my uncle George's son, and heir to his land and title. That was a blow. And, as this wretched will is not forthcoming, I fear he will inherit everything. We are disputing it, of course, and are looking high and low for the missing will that should have been sought for at the first. But it's very shaky the whole affair."