"Mona, you musn't do that. Now, I shall be really annoyed if you insist on sitting up for me and so lose a good night's rest. Now, don't, darling. It will only take it out of you, and make you pale and languid next day.",
Taking up the hapless heather, she throws it on the ground, and, in a fit of childish spleen, lays her foot upon it and tramples it out of all recognition. Yet, even as she does so, the tears gather in her eyes, and, resting there unshed, transfigure her into a lovely picture that might well be termed "Beauty in Distress." For this faded flower she grieves, as though it were, indeed, a living thing that she has lost.,
Just at this moment a light step running up the stairs outside and across the veranda makes itself heard. Every one looks expectant, and the slight displeasure dies out of Geoffrey's face. A slender, graceful figure appears at the window, and taps lightly..
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