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He lays his hands lightly on her arm, yet his touch seems to burn through her gown into her very flesh. He stoops towards her.,An old man, rugged but kindly-featured, rises on his entrance, and gazes at him expectantly. Mona, going up to him, rests her hand upon his arm, and, indicating Geoffrey by a gesture, says, in a low tone,—,The stories about this Old Man are told by the Blackfeet for entertainment rather than with any serious purpose, and when that part of the story is reached where Old Man is in some difficulty which he cannot get out of, the man who is telling the story, and those who are listening to it, laugh delightedly.,Once the people wished to cross the river, but the stream was deep and it was always hard for them to get across. Often the dogs and the travois were swept away and the people lost many of their things. At this time the tribe wished to cross, and Fisher and Weasel Heart said to each other, "The people want to cross the river, but it is high and they cannot do so. Let us try to make a crossing, so that it will be easier for them." So Weasel Heart alone crossed the river and sat on the bank on the other side, and Fisher sat opposite to him on the bank where the camp was.,Now they began to do their best to make life easier for the good old woman who had worked so hard to keep them from starving and freezing.,"Will not, you mean!","Well, I hope he has married a good girl, at all events," says Sir Nicholas, presently, with a sigh. But at this reasonable hope Lady Rodney once more gives way to bitter sobs.,"You speak as one might who has no aim in life, says Mona, looking at him with sincere pity. When Mona looks piteous she is at her best. Her eyes grow large, her sweet lips tremulous, her whole face pathetic. The role suits her. Rodney's heart begins to beat with dangerous rapidity. It is quite on the cards that a man of his reckless, untrained, dare-devil disposition should fall madly in love with a woman sans peur et sans reproche.,"It is all her doing," says the old man,—"Mona's, I mean. She loves those flowers more than anything on earth, I think. Her mother was the same; but she wasn't half the lass that Mona is. Never a mornin' in the cowld winter but she goes out there to see if the frost hasn't killed some of 'em the night before.","Everybody," says Geoffrey; "that is, all specially nice people. You won't be in the swim at all, unless you take to that sort of thing.","I should think very few people would deem it a trouble to serve you," she says, graciously. "And perhaps, after all, you don't much care about dancing.",With this she inclines her head, and without another word goes back by the way she has come..