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"One may choose to forget, but one may not be able to accomplish it. To forget or to remember is not in one's own power.",Mr. Darling is a flaxen-haired young gentleman of about four-and-twenty, with an open and ingenuous countenance, and a disposition cheerful to the last degree. He is positively beaming with youth and good spirits, and takes no pains whatever to suppress the latter; indeed, if so sweet-tempered a youth could be said to have a fault, it lies in his inability to hold his tongue. Talk he must, so talk he does,—anywhere and everywhere, and under all circumstances.,Geoffrey removes the heavy lace that lies round her throat, and then leads her up to the hearthrug nearly opposite to his mother's arm-chair.,He is perhaps disappointed in that every Irish cloak does not conceal a face beautiful as a houri's. And he learns by degrees that only one in ten says "bedad," and that "och murther?" is an expression almost extinct.,"I don't know, sir. I never was abroad before, an' I'm dead bate now, an' the bag's like lead.","Well, just wait till I tuck up the tail of my gown," says Mrs. Geoffrey, airily flinging her pale-blue skirt over her white bare arm.,"Forgive me, Mona," he says, with deep entreaty. "I confess my fault. How could I speak to you as I did! I implore your pardon. Great sinner as I am, surely I shall not knock for forgiveness at your sweet heart in vain!","That was a little unfair, wasn't it?" says Mona. "Why didn't he divide it?","Where are you going?" asks Rodney, afraid lest his last speech has offended her. She has her hat on,—a big Gainsborough hat, round which soft Indian muslin is clinging, and in which she looks nothing less than adorable.,In the background partly hidden by the gathering gloom, some fifteen men, and one or two women, are all huddled together, whispering eagerly, with their faces almost touching. The women, though in a great minority, are plainly having the best of it.,"From the Louvre. They are in Paris.","I hope she has, poor soul: she will want it," says Geoffrey, feelingly; and then he falls to whistling the "Two Obadiahs" softly, yet with a relish, beneath his breath..