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She leans back in her chair, and brings her fingers together, clasping them so closely that her very nails grow white. Her thin nostrils dilate a little, and her breath comes quickly, but no angry word escapes her. How can her lips give utterance to a speech that may wound the mother of the man she loves!,"No, it is nothing. It will be over in a moment," gasps he. "Give me some brandy, and help me to cheat Death of his prey for a little time, if it be possible.",She pauses. But for the absurdity of the thing, Mr. Rodney would swear there is hope in her tone.,"We were talking of love, I think," says Rodney, innocently, as though the tender passion as subsisting between the opposite sexes had been the subject of the conversation.,One hand is beneath her cheek,—that is soft and moist as a child's might be in innocent slumber,—the other is thrown above her head. She is exquisite in her abandon, but very pale, and her breath comes unevenly.,Slowly he draws from his pocket a paper, folded neatly, that looks like some old parchment. Mona draws her breath quickly, and turns first crimson with emotion, then pale as death. Opening it at a certain page, he points out to her the signature of George Rodney, the old baronet.,"Perhaps Lady Rodney would not like it.","Why not?" persuasively: "it will do you a world of good.",And hath in it the more of heavenly light.,But Geoffrey to whom the situation has its charm, takes up the broken thread.,"You did not mean it, Mona, did you? You are content here with me?—you have no regret?","Ah! then I did not know all," says Mona. "That was your fault. No; if I consent to do you this injury you shall at least have time to think it over.".