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"I think you had better come home," says Geoffrey, deeply angered with her. "You must not stay here catching cold." "Poor girl! I feel honestly sorry for her," says Jack, with a mild sigh. "What an awful ass he has made of himself!" "Yes, go on, Noll: what did she say?" repeats Geoffrey, the most generous encouragement in his tone. They have all, with a determination worthy of a better cause, made up their minds to forget that they are listening to what was certainly never meant for them to hear. Or perhaps consideration for Nolly compels them to keep their ears open, as that young man is so overcome by the thought of what he has unwillingly gone through, and the weight of the secret that is so disagreeably his, that it has become a necessity with him to speak or die; but I believe myself it is more curiosity than pity prompts their desire for information on the subject in hand..
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"Tell me why you hesitated in your speech a while ago. Talking of Rodney's giving you the will, you said he offered to give it you if—if——What did the 'if' mean?" She excuses her unwonted drowsiness with a little laugh, natural and friendly, and begs them "not to betray her." Clothed in all this sweetness she drops a word or two meant to crush Mona; but that hapless young woman hears her not, being bent on explaining to Mrs. Carson that, as a rule, the Irish peasantry do not go about dressed only in glass beads, like the gay and festive Zulus, and that petticoats and breeches are not utterly unknown. "You will come, Mona, to oblige the duchess," says Geoffrey, in exactly as even a tone as if the other had never spoken. Not that he cares in the very least about the duchess; but he is determined to conquer here, and is also desirous that all the world should appreciate and admire the woman he loves. Her eyes fall upon the hearthrug. Half under the fender a small piece of crumpled paper attracts her notice. Still talking, she stoops mechanically and picks it up, smooths it, and opens it..
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