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Any demonstration on her part just now may make a scene, and scenes are ever abhorrent. And might she not yet further widen the breach between mother and son by an ill-timed show of affection for the latter? Mona, in spite of her haste, stoops to pluck a bunch of violets and place them in her breast, as she goes upon her way. Up to this the beauty of the early spring day has drawn her out of herself, and compelled her to forget her errand. But as she comes near to the place appointed for the interview, a strange repugnance to go forward and face Paul Rodney makes her steps slower and her eyes heavy. And even as she comprehends how strongly she shrinks from the meeting with him, she looks up and sees the chestnut-tree in front of her, and the stream rushing merrily to the ocean, and Paul Rodney standing in his favorite attitude with his arms folded and his sombre eyes fixed eagerly upon her. "Well," said Old Man, "you have chosen; there will be an end to them.".
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"Does he mean going himself?" says Nicholas, idly. "He is here to-day, I know, but one never knows where he may be to-morrow, he is so erratic." "It is," replies he, absently. Then, below his breath, "and well worth fighting for." "It is a good thing to be in earnest over every matter, however trivial. As I am going to Ireland, you will advise me to study the people, would you not?" "You?" says Mona, with extreme hauteur and an unpleasant amount of well-feigned astonishment. She does not deign to go to meet him, or even turn her head altogether in his direction, but just throws a swift and studiously unfriendly glance at him from under her long lashes..
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