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"Yes, if it is fine," says Mona, after a faint hesitation.,"Oh, I dare say. Yes, sometimes: but—" she hesitates, and this time the expression of her face cannot be misunderstood: dejection betrays itself in every line—"but it is not so with you, is it? No aunt has left you anything?","Many things, I dare say," she says, nervously, turning from him.,"You can hardly mean that?" says Mona, with some surprise.,She looks so full of belief in her own fancy that she inspires Doatie on the spot with a similar faith.,Here he lays hands on Geoffrey.,"Promise me you will not go back to Coolnagurtheen to-night?" she says, earnestly. "At the inn, down in the village, they will give you a bed.","Yes, to-morrow you can have your arm re-dressed," she says, in a low tone, that savors of sadness; and then he knows she does not want him to prosecute Ryan.,"I am a stranger; I know nothing," she says again, hardly knowing what to say, and moving a little as though she would depart.,Mere beauty of form and feature will fade indeed, but Mona's beauty lies not altogether in nose or eyes or mouth, but rather in her soul, which compels her face to express its lightest meaning. It is in her expression, which varies with each passing thought, changing from "grave to gay, from lively to severe," as the soul within speaks to it, that her chief charm dwells. She is never quite the same for two minutes running,—which is the surest safeguard against satiety. And as her soul is pure and clean, and her face is truly the index to her mind, all it betrays but endears her to and makes richer him who reads it.,The son-in-law and his wives came home, bringing the meat, and after a little time they heard the child in the next lodge crying. The son-in-law said to his youngest wife, "Go over to your mother's and see whether that baby is a boy or a girl. If it is a boy, tell your parents to kill it.","Quite right. And I am the young English gentleman," says Geoffrey, lifting his hat again by way of introduction..