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But that she masked it in modestie,,"Oh, no! it is not that! you must know it is not that," says Mona, in deep grief. "It is that I cannot marry you!","I am sure we shall all be very glad," she says, faintly, feeling herself bound to make some remark.,"But she will be living only six miles from you, and the county will surely call, and that will not be nice for you," says Violet.,To her it is an awful moment. Never before has she stood face to face with dissolution, to wait for the snapping of the chain,—the breaking of the bowl. "Neither the sun nor death," says La Rochefoucauld, "can be looked at steadily;" and now "Death's thousand doors stand open" to receive this man that but an hour agone was full of life as she is now. His pulses throbbed, his blood coursed lightly through his veins, the grave seemed a far-off destination; yet here he lies, smitten to the earth, beaten down and trodden under, with nothing further to anticipate but the last change of all.,"Sir Nicholas has sent me an invitation for the 19th," he says, presently, when the silence has become unendurable.,"Forgive him!" says Rodney. "Surely, however unkind the thoughts he may have cherished for me, I must forget and forgive them now, seeing all he has done for me. Has he not made smooth my last hours? Has he not lent me you? Tell him I bear him no ill will.","Edith Carson is very nearly so, I think.","But what was the subject of it?","But why?" asks Mona, in amaze. "Didn't he wear one?","If ever you should be sorry afterwards," she says, miserably, still tormenting herself with unseen evils,—"if ever I should see discontent in your eyes, how would it be with me then?","Who?" "What?" say Mona and Dorothy, in one breath..