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"Well, come with me, and I'll stay till you turn me out.' To-morrow will be market-day in Bantry, to which the week's butter must go; and now the churning is over, and the result of it lies cold and rich and fresh beneath Mona's eyes. She herself is busily engaged printing little pats off a large roll of butter that rests on the slab before her; her sleeves are carefully tucked up, as on that first day when Geoffrey saw her; and in defiance of her own heart—which knows itself to be sad—she is lilting some little foolish lay, bright and shallow as the October sunshine that floods the room, lying in small silken patches on the walls and floor. "Now listen, Mona," she says, in her low voice, that even now, when she is somewhat excited, shows no trace of heat or haste, "for I shall speak to you plainly. You must make up your mind to Lady Rodney. It is the common belief that mere birth will refine most people; but those who cling to that theory will surely find themselves mistaken. Something more is required: I mean the nobility of soul that Nature gives to the peasant as well as the peer. This, Lady Rodney lacks; and at heart, in sentiment, she is—at times—coarse. May I say what I like to you?".
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Conrad
"Yes; let me go to him," says Mona, quickly; "I shall know what to say better than you." "He is our landlord," says Mona, calmly, but with uplifted brows, stopping short in the middle of the road to regard him with astonishment. Mona's waxen arms gleam like snow in the uncertain light. Each movement of hers is full of grace and verve. Her entire action is perfect. "No one," says Mona. "I had no need to ask permission for anything. I was free to do what I wished.".
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