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CHAPTER XXXII. "I shall not be too nervous," says Mona, but her face blanches afresh even as she speaks; and Geoffrey sees it. "Do you mean to tell me that I don't care for you?" says Rodney, quickly..
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"Ah!" replied her father; "it must always be as he says"; and they spoke no more about it. So they start, in a lazy, happy-go-lucky fashion, for their walk, conversing as they go, of themselves principally as all true lovers will. "The loose train of thy amber-drooping hair." "But, my darling child, I can't help the fact that George Rodney left me the Hall," says Geoffrey, deprecatingly, reducing the space between them to a mere nothing, and slipping his arm round her waist. "And if I was a beggar on the face of the earth, I could not love you more than I do, nor could you, I hope"—reproachfully—"love me better either.".
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