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She smiles again. Lady Rodney, watching her intently, tells herself if this is acting it is the most perfectly done thing she ever saw in her life, either on the stage or off it. "What a surprise it all is!" says Geoffrey, hypocritically. "It would be kind of you," says he, gratefully. "She will want to know all, and you will do it more tenderly than the others. Do not dwell upon my sins; and say I died—happy. Let her too have a copy of the paper Dr. Bland has now.".
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"Well, you know that's better than a farmer's common niece," says Jack, consolingly. "I don't see why I shouldn't put in a month there very comfortably," says Geoffrey, indolently, pulling the ears of a pretty, saucy little fat terrier that sits blinking at him, with brown eyes full of love, on a chair close by. "And it will be something new to go to Ireland, at all events. It is rather out of the running these times, so probably will prove interesting; and at least there is a chance that one won't meet every town acquaintance round every corner. That's the worry of going abroad, and I'm heartily sick of the whole thing." "No," says Nicholas, "she isn't; though I should consider her dear at any price." He is a depraved young man who declines to see beauty in ebony and gloom. "But," with a sigh, "I don't think you quite understand, darling." "Loved nothing better than a—oh, how you must have misunderstood me!" says Rodney, with mournful earnestness, liberally sprinkled with reproach..
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