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"If—if you loved a fellow, would anything turn you against him?" asks he, suddenly, looking her full in the face. "Tell us, Jenkins," says Nicholas, hastily. His looks betray his wish. And Mona, stooping, very willingly bestows upon him one of the sweetest little kisses imaginable..
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"I will, darlin', shurely," says Bridget, who adores the ground she walks on; and then, turning, she leaves her. Mona lays her hand on Geoffrey's arm. Behind the house rises a thick wood,—a "solemn wood," such as Dickens loved to write of, with its lights and shades and every-varying tints. A gentle wind is rushing through it now; the faint murmur of some "hidden brook," singing its "quiet tune," fall upon the ear; some happy birds are warbling in the thickets. It is a day whose beauty may be felt. "Is there no hope?" asks Geoffrey, gravely. Now, Lady Rodney is at home, but, having given strict orders to the servants to say she is anywhere else they like,—that is, to tell as many lies as will save her from intrusion,—is just now reposing calmly in the small drawing-room, sleeping the sleep of the just, unmindful of coming evil..
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