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"Wait till you see her," says Geoffrey, after a little pause, with full faith in his own recipe.,So in silence, but hand in hand, they move back through the dewy meads, meeting no one until they reach the little wooden gate that leads to her home.,"It is really hardly worth talking about," she says, grandly. "I was foolish to lay so great a stress on such a trifling matter. It doesn't signify, not in the least. But—but," the blood mounting to her brow, "if ever you speak of it again,—if ever you even mention the word 'heather,'—I shall hate you!","I think, sir, after that you may consider yourself flattened," says Geoffrey, with a laugh.,"Why need you go until after Christmas?" she says, in a tone so low that he can barely hear her.,"What are you thinking of?" asks Mona, softly, breaking in upon his soliloquy.,"But you have no piano?","Other people have done it,—do it every day," says Dorothy, stoutly. She has dried her eyes, and is looking almost as pretty as ever. "We might find a dear nice little house somewhere, Nicholas," this rather vaguely, "might we not? with some furniture in Queen Anne's style. Queen Anne, or what looks like her, is not so very expensive now, is she?",Lady Lilias, slowly descending the stone steps with the hound Egbert behind her, advances to meet Lady Rodney. She greets them all with a solemn cordiality that impresses everybody but Mona, who is gazing dreamily into the gray eyes of her hostess and wondering vaguely if her lips have ever smiled. Her hostess in return is gazing at her, perhaps in silent admiration of her soft loveliness.,"Ah," said her bull husband; "now you understand how it is that we feel. You mourn for your father; but we have seen our fathers, mothers, and many of our relations fall over the high cliffs, to be killed for food by your people. But now I will pity you, I will give you one chance. If you can bring your father to life, you and he may go back to your camp.","But what is Lady Lilias like? I did not notice her the other night," says Mona.,"I don't care about the county. It must think what it likes; and when it knows her it will sympathize with me. Oh! what a name! Scully! Was there ever so dreadful a name?".