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But Mona will not be entreated; sweetly, but firmly, she declines to alter the sobriquet given her so long ago now. With much gentleness she tells Lady Rodney that she loves the name; that it is dearer to her than any other could ever be; that to be Mrs. Geoffrey is the utmost height of her very heighest ambition; and to change it now would only cause her pain and a vague sense of loss. Lights are blazing, fiddles are sounding; all the world is abroad to-night. Even still, though the ball at the Towers has been opened long since by Mona and the Duke of Lauderdale, the flickering light of carriage-lamps is making the roads bright, by casting tiny rays upon the frosted ground. "It is like the garden of the palace where the Sleeping Beauty dwelt," whispers Mona to Nolly; she is delighted, charmed, lost in admiration..
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"Oh, now, Mrs. Geoffrey, come—I say—how cruel yon can be!" "But, as I said to Lady Rodney, suppose I haven't a headache," retorts Mona, triumphantly. He lowers the weapon at her command, but says nothing. Indeed, what is there to say? With Philippa they have some tea, and then again follow their indefatigable hostess to a distant apartment that seems more or less to jut out from the house, and was in olden days a tiny chapel or oratory..
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