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"Well, do you know, I think I will take another bit of cake," says Doatie, totally unabashed. "And—cut it thick. After all, Noll, I don't believe Lilias would ever marry you, or any other man: she wouldn't know what to do with you." The fourth dance has come to an end; cards are full; every one is settling down to work in earnest; already the first touch of satisfaction or of carefully-suppressed disappointment is making itself felt. "It is Mr. Moore's retriever!" cries Mona, hurriedly, in a startled tone. "I must run. Down, Fan! down! Oh, if he catches me here, in this dress, what will he think? Quick, Geoffrey, give me my shawl!".

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"Yes, do, alannah!" says the old lady, standing with one hand upon her hips and the other holding tightly a prodigious "Champion." "'Twill set ye up afther yer walk." But Mona in such a case as this prefers being "taken in" (though she may object to the phrase), and in process of time grows positively fond of Lady Rodney. "You err, nevertheless, on the side of mercy, if you err at all; and—perhaps there may be no other crimes. He may have had his lesson this evening,—a lasting one. To-morrow I shall go to his cabin, and——" "No, you are not," says Geoffrey, grieved to the heart that he could have used such a word towards her. "You are nothing that is not sweet and adorable. And, besides all this, you are, I know, sincerity itself. I feel (and am thankful for the knowledge) that were fate to 'steep me in poverty to the very lips,' you would still be faithful to me.".