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"Oh, I saw her," said the old woman; "she passed this way. I myself have no great power to help you, but over by that far butte beyond, lives another old woman. Go to her and she will give you power to continue your journey. You could not reach the place you are seeking without help. Beyond the next butte from her lodge you will find the camp of the ghosts.","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?","Then you are out of your mind," says Rodney.,She turns up one of the lamps, whilst Rodney still continues his contemplation of the wall before him. Conversation languishes, then dies. Mona, raising her hand to her lips, suppresses valiantly a yawn.,Glancing round fearfully for a moment, as though desirous of making sure that no strange eyes are watching her movements, she lets the loose cloak fall to the ground, and, taking with careful haste the covering from her head, slips like Cinderella from her ordinary garments into all the glories of a fete gown. She steps a little to one side, and, throwing up her head with a faint touch of coquetry that sits very sweetly on her, glances triumphantly at Geoffrey, as though fully conscious that she is looking exquisite as a dream.,"Did I say all that?" asks Mrs. Geoffrey, with wide eyes. "Indeed, I think you mistake. Old people have wrinkles, and they do not talk as you do. And when one is sweet to look at, one is never old.",Taking up the hapless heather, she throws it on the ground, and, in a fit of childish spleen, lays her foot upon it and tramples it out of all recognition. Yet, even as she does so, the tears gather in her eyes, and, resting there unshed, transfigure her into a lovely picture that might well be termed "Beauty in Distress." For this faded flower she grieves, as though it were, indeed, a living thing that she has lost.,She hastens her steps, and runs down hurriedly into the hall below, which is almost as light as day. Turning aside, she makes for the library, and now (and not till now) remembers she has no light, and that the library, its shutters carefully closed every night by the invaluable Jenkins himself, is of necessity in perfect darkness.,"That is just what is so noble about Nicholas," returns Doatie, quickly. "He supports him, simply because it is his own quarrel. After all, it matters to nobody but Nicholas himself: no one else will suffer if that odious black man conquers.",Lady Lilias, slowly descending the stone steps with the hound Egbert behind her, advances to meet Lady Rodney. She greets them all with a solemn cordiality that impresses everybody but Mona, who is gazing dreamily into the gray eyes of her hostess and wondering vaguely if her lips have ever smiled. Her hostess in return is gazing at her, perhaps in silent admiration of her soft loveliness.,Never afterwards will she forget the glance of gratitude that meets hers, and that lights up all his face, even his dim eyes, as she grants him this gentle pitiful caress.,To travel here and there, from city to city and village to village, with Mona, would be a far happier arrangement. But underlying all else is a longing that the wife whom he adores and the mother whom he loves should be good friends..