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"You are all wet. Do go home and change your clothes," says Mona, who is still sitting on the grass with her gown spread carefully around her. "Or perhaps"-reluctantly—"it will be better for you to go to the farm, where Bridget will look after you.","Yes. When talking then of supplanting Sir Nicholas at the Towers, you spoke of your project as a 'splendid scheme.' What did you mean by it? I cannot get the words out of my head since. Is 'scheme' an honest word?",Stands by her side one bold, bright, steady star,,"But she lost her husband," says Mona, gently.,"Oh! if you mean by that you want to get rid of me, you might have said so long ago, without all this hinting," says Mr. Rodney, huffily, preparing to beat an indignant retreat.,"Oh, yes, I am quite ready," says Mona, starting somewhat guiltily. And then they pass out through the big yard-gate, with the two dogs at their heels, and their attendant squire, who brings up the rear with a soft whistle that rings through the cool night-air and tells the listening stars that the "girl he loves is his dear," and his "own, his artless Nora Creana.","I never saw your equal," says Geoffrey, who, with Sir Nicholas, has been listening to the last half of the conversation, and who is plainly suppressing a strong desire to laugh.,"Why, what is the matter?" he says, seeing signs of the lively storm on all their faces. Doatie explains hurriedly.,Of Christian charity,"But I hadn't a headache," says Mona, bending her large truthful eyes with embarrassing earnestness upon Lady Rodney.,"That's the eighth wonder of the world," says Mr. Darling, mysteriously. "It has never yet been discovered. Don't seek to pry too closely into it; you might meet with a rebuff.",The floor itself is pale, nay, almost blue. A little snow is sifted lightly on branch, and grass, and ivied wall. Each object in the sleeping world is quite distinct..