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CHAPTER XXVII.,"Yes. Hurry, darling. If you think you can bear it, you should lose no time. Minutes even, I fear, are precious in this case.","I am so glad you have come, darling," says little Dorothy, taking off her hat, and laying it on a chair near her.,To her there is nothing strange or new, either in the hour or the place. Often does she come here in the moonlight with her faithful attendant and her two dogs, to sit and dream away a long sweet hour brimful of purest joy, whilst drinking in the plaintive charm that Nature as a rule flings over her choicest paintings.,"Thank you, darling," replies he, meekly.,"That betrays the meanness of the world," says Mona, slowly and with indignation. "Has not Geoffrey just declared himself to be a younger son?","To Rome," says Mona. "But do you mean it? Can you afford it? Italy seems so far away." Then, after a thoughtful silence, "Mr. Rodney——","Yes,—and miserable! you forget to add that. Now everything seems squared. In the grave neither grief nor revenge can find a place. And as for you, what have you to do with my fate?—nothing. What should you not return to me my own? and why should I not die by the weapon I had dared to level against yourself? There is a justice in it that smacks of Sadlers' Wells.","Did you touch them?" said the young man.,"It wasn't the train so much," says Doatie, with a merry laugh, "as Nolly: we weren't any time coming, because he got out and took the reins from Hewson, and after that I rather think he took it out of your bays, Nicholas.","I bear you no illwill; you mistake me," says Mona, quietly: "I am only sorry for Nicholas, because I do love him.","Forgive me that I showed surprise. Your uncle is more advanced than I had supposed. He is right. Why should a pig be esteemed less lovely than a stag? Nature in its entirety can know no blemish. The fault lies with us. We are creatures of habit: we have chosen to regard the innocent pig as a type of ugliness for generations, and now find it difficult to see any beauty in it.".