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"There are times, I confess," goes on Mr. Darling, disposing of Geoffrey's mundane interruption by a contemptuous wave of the hand, "when light breaks in upon me, and a joyful, a thrice-blessed termination to my dream presents itself. For instance, if Geoffrey could only be brought to see things as they are, and have the grace to quit this mortal globe and soar to worlds unknown, I should then fling myself at your feet, and——" "I am afraid of nothing," says Mona, simply. "I am not half so much afraid as you were a few moments since, when you could not let your eyes meet mine, and when you shrank from answering me a simple question. In my turn I tell you to pause before going too far." "But you said you knew the entire locality,—couldn't be puzzled within a radius of thirty miles. How far are we from home?".
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"Ah! were you really there!" says Mona, growing at once bright and excited at the bare mention of her native land. At such moments she falls again unconsciously into the "thens," and "sures," and "ohs!" and "ahs!" of her Ireland. Mona, though still angered, is yet somewhat softened by this speech, as might any woman. Her color fades again, and heavy tears, rising rapidly, quench the fire that only a moment since made her large eyes dark and passionate. She makes various attempts at thinking it out. She places her pretty hands upon her prettier brows, under the mistaken impression common to most people that this attitude is conducive to the solution of mysteries; but with no result. Things will not arrange themselves. He is overcome with contrition, and would perhaps have said something betraying his scorn of himself, but she prevents him..
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