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"May I not see Nicholas, if only for a moment?" she says, plaintively, gazing with entreaty at Geoffrey. At which Nicholas, hearing from within the voice that rings its changes on his heart from morn till eve, calls aloud to her,— "You may as well call it a train; people like it better," says Geoffrey. "I'm sure I don't know why, but perhaps it sounds better." So after this earnest protest no more is ever said to her apon the subject, and Mrs. Geoffrey she is now to her mends, and Mrs. Geoffrey, I think, she will remain to the end of the chapter..
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It is a light, not of stars or of moonbeams, but of a bona fide lamp, and as such is hailed by Mona, with joy. Evidently the thoughtful Jenkins has left it lighted there for Geoffrey's benefit when he returns. And very thoughtful, too, it is of him. One hand is beneath her cheek,—that is soft and moist as a child's might be in innocent slumber,—the other is thrown above her head. She is exquisite in her abandon, but very pale, and her breath comes unevenly. "It was placed here; I feel it, I know it," says Mona, solemnly, laying her hand upon the panel. Her earnestness impresses him. He wakes into life. "He had to see the mare made up, and the pigs fed," says Mona..
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