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"No one can say we are not in time," says Jack, gayly. "It is exactly"—examining closely the ormolu-clock upon the mantelpiece—"one hour before we can reasonably expect dinner." She is country bred, and clothed in country garments, yet her beauty is too great to be deniable. She is not "divinely tall," but rather of medium height, with an oval face, and eyes of "heaven's own blue." Their color changes too, and deepens, and darkens, and grows black and purple, as doth the dome above us. Her mouth is large, but gracious, and full of laughter mixed with truth and firmness. There is no feature that can so truly express character as the mouth. The eyes can shift and change, but the mouth retains its expression always. "Oh, if I could be quite, quite sure you would never regret it!" says Mona, wistfully..
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Nicholas, who had left the room again, returns now, bringing with him a glass of wine, which he compels her to swallow, and then, pale and frightened, but calmer than she was before, she leaves the house, and starts with Geoffrey for the gamekeeper's lodge, where lies the man they had so dreaded, impotent in the arms of death. "No; I have not forgotten you," says Mona, shrinking away from him. As she speaks she looks nervously at Nicholas. "Nolly is waking up. I am afraid we sha'n't have that auto da fe, after all," says Jack in a tone of rich disappointment. "I feel as if we are going to be done out of a good thing." "Indeed, are you?" asks she, raising her pretty brows. Then she smiles involuntarily, and the pink flush in her rounded cheeks grows a shade deeper. Yet she does not lower her eyes, or show the slightest touch of confusion. "I might have guessed it," she says, after a minute's survey of the tall gray-coated young man before her. "You are not a bit like the others down here.".
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