"Why do you accuse me of such a desire?" asks he, paling beneath her indignation, and losing courage because of the unshed tears that are gleaming in her eyes.,
"Is that what you think?" he says, earnestly. "Then for once you are wrong. I have never been—I shall hardly be again—happier than I have been in Ireland.",
"Like me? Oh, no," says Mrs. Geoffrey. "Some of them are really beautiful, like pictures. When I was staying with Aunt Anastasia—the Provost's wife, you remember—I saw a great many pretty people. I saw a great many students, too," says Mona, brightening, "and liked them very much. They liked me, too.".
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