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"Ah! indeed! How interesting!" says Lady Lilias, rousing into something that very nearly borders on animation. "I did not think there was in England another room like this." "Some of them; not all. I know a considerable few who dress so little that they might as well leave it alone." His love at this moment—which is closing upon noon—is standing in her cool dairy upon business thoughts intent yet with a certain look of expectation and anxiety upon he face,—a listening look may best express it..
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"I slept badly last night; I hardly slept at all," she says, plaintively, evading direct reply. Paul Rodney, true to his word, has put in an appearance, much to the amazement of many in the room. Almost as Mona's dance with Nolly is at an end, he makes his way to her, and asks her to give him the next. Unfortunately, she is not engaged for it, and, being unversed in polite evasions, she says yes, quietly, and is soon floating round the room with him. His looks betray his wish. And Mona, stooping, very willingly bestows upon him one of the sweetest little kisses imaginable. "It is really hardly worth talking about," she says, grandly. "I was foolish to lay so great a stress on such a trifling matter. It doesn't signify, not in the least. But—but," the blood mounting to her brow, "if ever you speak of it again,—if ever you even mention the word 'heather,'—I shall hate you!".
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