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The momentous Friday comes at last, and about noon Mona and Geoffrey start for the Towers. They are not, perhaps, in the exuberant spirits that should be theirs, considering they are going to spend their Christmas in the bosom of their family,—at all events, of Geoffrey's family which naturally for the future she must acknowledge as hers. They are indeed not only silent, but desponding, and as they get out of the train at Greatham and enter the carriage sent by Sir Nicholas to meet them their hearts sink nearly into their boots, and for several minutes no words pass between them.,"Yes, many will. Lady Rodney,—and—and Jack too. He also must lose by it," says Violet, with suppressed warmth.,"Ah, how you flatter!" says Mona. Nevertheless, being a woman, and the flattery being directed to herself, she takes it kindly.,"Why have you taken all this trouble about us?" says Lady Rodney, leaning forward to look at the girl anxiously, her voice low and trembling.,"Then she doesn't know what she is talking about," says Mrs. Geoffrey, indignantly. "The idea of comparing Geoffrey with Jack!","You don't understand this people as I do. I tell you he will never forgive his downfall the other night, or the thought that he is in your power.",As he reaches the broad stream that divides him from the land he would reach, he pauses and tries to think of any decent excuse that may enable him to walk with a bold front up to the cottage door. But no such excuse presents itself. Memory proves false. It refuses to assist him. He is almost in despair.,"Is she—is she noisy?" she asks, in a faltering tone.,"Let there be no talk of forgiveness between you and me," says Mona, very sweetly, after which Lady Rodney fairly gives way, and placing her arms round the kneeling girl, draws her to her bosom and kisses her tenderly.,"Well, you know that's better than a farmer's common niece," says Jack, consolingly.,Thus at odd moments time can treble itself; but with the blessed daylight come comfort and renewed hope, and Geoffrey, greeting with rapture the happy morn, that,,"Now listen, Mona," she says, in her low voice, that even now, when she is somewhat excited, shows no trace of heat or haste, "for I shall speak to you plainly. You must make up your mind to Lady Rodney. It is the common belief that mere birth will refine most people; but those who cling to that theory will surely find themselves mistaken. Something more is required: I mean the nobility of soul that Nature gives to the peasant as well as the peer. This, Lady Rodney lacks; and at heart, in sentiment, she is—at times—coarse. May I say what I like to you?".