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"No," says Mona, shaking her head. "Not—not to-night. I shall soon." "My own old pet," says Mrs. Geoffrey, still mysteriously, and with the fondest smile imaginable. "You have not quite forgotten me, I hope, Mrs. Rodney. You will give me one dance?".
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"Well, just then it made little difference to us, as, shortly after my grandfather went off the hooks, we received what we believed to be authenticated tidings of my uncle's death." Altogether she is a picture, which, if slightly suggestive of artificiality, is yet very nearly perfection. Mona is therefore agreeably surprised, and, being—as all her nation is—susceptible to outward beauty, feels drawn towards this odd young woman in sickly green, with her canine friend beside her. "Daisies pied, and violets blue, She chatters on gayly to the duke, losing sight of the fact of his rank, and laughing and making merry with him as though he were one of the ordinary friends of her life. And to Lauderdale, who is susceptible to beauty and tired of adulation, such manner has its charm, and he is perhaps losing his head a little, and is conning a sentence or two of a slightly tender nature, when another partner coming up claims Mona, and carries her away from what might prove dangerous quarters..
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