Geoffrey, who would be at any moment as polite to a dairymaid as to a duchess, follows her, and, much to her discomfort,—though she is too civil to say so,—helps her to lay the table. He even insists on filling a dish with the potatoes, and having severely burned his fingers, and having nobly suppressed all appearance of pain,—beyond the dropping of two or three of the esculent roots upon the ground,—brings them in triumph to the spot where Mona is sitting.,
"But to find you like this"—begins Mona. And then overcome by grief and agitation, she covers her face with her hands, and bursts into tears.,
"Well, not just now, I think," says Mona, evasively..
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