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Friday is fine, and towards nightfall grows still milder, until it seems that even in the dawn of October a summer's night may be born.,But that she masked it in modestie,,"Waiting—for what? Is it to shoot him?" asks the girl, breathlessly.,"Well, you know that's better than a farmer's common niece," says Jack, consolingly.,"Oh, no, not that," says Mona. "Poor Ireland! Every one either laughs at her or hates her. Though I like my adopted country, still I shall always feel for old Erin what I could never feel for another land.",Then she opens the letter, and reads as follows:,"I should very much like to go," says Mona, gently, and with some eagerness. She has been sitting very quietly with her hands before her, hardly hearing what is passing around her,—lost, buried in thought.,"I wish Nick didn't like her so much," says Geoffrey, sadly. "It will cut him up more than all the rest, if he has to give her up.","I am very glad," says Mona, in a low tone.,"Yes. And after Shakspeare, I like him best, and then Longfellow. Why do you speak in that tone? Don't you like him?",Thus at odd moments time can treble itself; but with the blessed daylight come comfort and renewed hope, and Geoffrey, greeting with rapture the happy morn, that,,"No; I am quite warm," says Mona, in a low, sad tone..