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CHAPTER XV.,Mona starts violently, and draws back; shame and indignation cover her. Her breath comes in little gasps.,"Well don't go to Dublin, at all events," says her mother, plaintively. "It's wretched form.","No?" Then, "Not if you dislike it of course. But Nicholas made a point of my being nice to him. I did not know you would object to my dancing with him.","I have nothing in my head," says Mona, tearfully.,And ne'er made sie anither,",And through the woodlands swell,She pauses. But for the absurdity of the thing, Mr. Rodney would swear there is hope in her tone.,Mona, sitting down to the piano, plays a few chords in a slow, plaintive fashion, and then begins. Paul Rodney has come to the doorway, and is standing there gazing at her, though she knows it not. The ballroom is far distant, so far that the sound of the band does not break upon the silence of the room in which they are assembled. A hush falls upon the listeners as Mona's fresh, pathetic, tender voice rises into the air.,"It appears he had a pocket-pistol with him, Sir Nicholas, and going home through the wood he stumbled over some roots, and it went off and injured him fatally. It is an internal wound, my lady. Dr. Bland, who is with him, says there is no hope.",Having said all this without a break, Jenkins feels he has outdone himself, and retires on his laurels.,"On guard," says Mona, whereupon both the brutes crouch upon the ground right before Rodney, and fix him seriously and menacingly with their eyes..