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Nolly is especially and oppressively cheerful. He is blind to the depression that marks Mona and Geoffrey for its own, and quite outdoes himself in geniality and all-round amiability. "But I shall be more content so; and even if I went to bed I could not sleep. Besides, I shall not be companionless when the small hours begin to creep upon me." Just at this moment he is coming down through brake and furze, past tangling blackberry-bushes that are throwing out leaves of brilliant crimson and softest yellow, and over rustling leaves, towards the farm that holds his divinity..
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"Forgive me, Mona," he says, with deep entreaty. "I confess my fault. How could I speak to you as I did! I implore your pardon. Great sinner as I am, surely I shall not knock for forgiveness at your sweet heart in vain!" An old crone is sitting over a turf fire that glows and burns dimly in its subdued fashion. Hanging over it is a three-legged pot, in which boil the "praties" for the "boys'" dinners, who will be coming home presently from their work. "Yes, we have indeed," says the same sweet voice again, which is the merriest and softest voice imaginable, "and in very good time too, as it seems. Nolly and I have been here for fully five minutes, and have been so delighted with what we have seen that we positively could not stir. Dear Lady Rodney, how d'ye do?" "Eh! you don't mean to say that after all my devotion you would then refuse me?" asks Mr. Darling, with some disgust..
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