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Mona looks up startled. The faint rays of the new-born moon are indeed rushing through the casement, and are flinging themselves languidly upon the opposite wall, but they are pale and wan, as moonlight is in its infancy, and anything but brilliant. Besides, Rodney's eyes are turned not on them, but on the door that can be seen just over Mona's head, where no beams disport themselves, however weakly.,"Why should they fall out again?" says Rodney, a little angrily, hearing only her careless laugh, and—man-like—ignoring stupidly the pain in her lovely eyes. "Unless people choose to forget.","I mean," says Mona, flushing a vivid scarlet, "is she stern?",Of course everybody that is anybody has called on the new Mrs. Rodney. The Duchess of Lauderdale who is an old friend of Lady Rodney's, and who is spending the winter at her country house to please her son the young duke, who is entertaining a houseful of friends, is almost the first to come. And Lady Lillias Eaton, the serious and earnest-minded young æsthetic,—than whom nothing can be more coldly and artistically correct according to her own school,—is perhaps the second: but to both, unfortunately, Mona is "not at home.","Why, of course; of course. One can see that at a glance. And if it were otherwise the whole story would be ruined,—would instantly become tame and commonplace,—would be, indeed," says Lady Lilias, with a massive wave of her large white hand, "I regret to say, an occurrence of everyday life. The singular beauty that now attaches to it would disappear. It is the fact that his passion was unrequited, unacknowledged, and that yet he was content to sacrifice his life for it, that creates its charm.","It is like a fairy-tale, and quite as pretty," says little Dorothy, who is quite safe to turn out an inveterate matchmaker when a few more years have rolled over her sunny head.,Every flower has opened wide its pretty eye, because the sun, that so long has been a stranger, has returned to them, and is gazing down upon them with ardent love. They—fond nurslings of an hour—accept his tardy attentions, and, though, still chilled and desolee because of the sad touches of winter that still remain, gaze with rapt admiration at the great Ph[oe]bus, as he sits enthroned above.,"Yes—you think; go on," says Rodney, gazing at her attentively.,"Quite sure," returns her future mother-in law, grimly. "I never speak, Dorothy, without foundation for what I say.","A mere nothing," says Nicholas, airily; "we were merely chaffing him a little, because you know what a mess he makes of anything of that sort he takes in hand.","Now, that is very kind of you," she says, lifting her eyes, humid with tears, to his. "And I think it will take only a very little time to make me love you!",As she thus ponders within herself, Spice and Allspice, the two dogs, set up a simultaneous howl, and immediately afterwards a voice says, eagerly,—.