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"Yes; let me go to him," says Mona, quickly; "I shall know what to say better than you." "Neither have you." "To my forehead?" says Mona, puzzled; and then she glances at Geoffrey, remembering that this was one of the slight variations with which he adorned his tale..
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"Yes, quite in time," says Mona. Then she pauses, looking at him so earnestly that he is compelled to return her gaze. "You shall have another dance," she says, in her clear voice, that is perfectly distinct to every one; "but you must not call me Mrs. Rodney: I am only Mrs. Geoffrey!" "And severe-looking? You said she was like you." "Let her thry," says old Brian, in his soft, Irish brogue, that comes kindly from his tongue. "She's mighty clever about most things." "Some other day you can do that. Now go," says Mona, imperiously, waving her hand..
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