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"N—ot very," says Doatie, dolefully.,"Oh, no! it is not that! you must know it is not that," says Mona, in deep grief. "It is that I cannot marry you!","If I made a mistake I am sorry for it.","I didn't make up the mare, miss, before comin' out wid ye," he says, mildly, telling this lie without a blush.,"They've done it at last," says Mr. Darling, in a low, compressed voice. "It is an accomplished fact. I heard 'em myself!","Think of it now, Paul,—now before it is too late," entreats she, piteously. "Try to pray: there is always mercy.","Where is Mona?",In those days the people used to make holes in the walls of the fence about the enclosure into which they led the buffalo. They set snares over these holes, and when wolves and other animals crept through them so as to get into the pen and feed on the meat they were caught by the neck and killed, and the people used their skins for clothing.,He is delighted with her ready response, her gayety, her sweetness, her freshness; was there ever so fair a face? Every one in the room by this time is asking who is the duke's partner, and Lady Chetwoode is beset with queries. All the women, except a very few, are consumed with jealousy; all the men are devoured with envy of the duke. Beyond all doubt the pretty Irish bride is the rage of the hour.,"Why, so I was," says Mona, opening her eyes with some surprise, and with an amused smile. "What a good guess, and considering how late the hour is, too!","Yes. I forgive you," she says, almost in a whisper, with a seriousness that amounts to solemnity.,"Yes, they are pretty, but insignificant," says the Æsthete, contemptuously. "Paltry children of the earth, not to be compared with the lenten or the tiger lily, or the fiercer beauty of the sunflower, or the hues of the unsurpassable thistle!".