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"It is to be regretted you cannot like England, as you have made up your mind to live in it; and yet I think——" She pauses.,

Yet after a moment or two the smile fades from Mona's mobile lip that ever looks as if, in the words of the old song, "some bee had stung it newly," and a pensive expression takes its place.,

"He was there before me, and almost immediately he drew the will from his pocket, and said he would give it to me if—if—well, he gave it to me," says Mrs. Geoffrey, changing color as she remembers her merciful escape. "And he desired me to tell you, Nicholas, that he would never claim the title, as it was useless to him and it sits so sweetly on you. And then I clutched the will, and held it tightly, and ran all the way back with it, and—and that's all!",

"Dan? He was a fine man, surely; six feet in his stockin', he was, an' eyes like a woman's. He come down here an' met her, an' she married him. Nothing would stop her, though the parson was fit to be tied about it. An' of course he was no match for her,—father bein' only a bricklayer when he began life,—but still I will say Dan was a fine man, an' one to think about; an' no two ways in him, an' that soft about the heart. He worshipped the ground she walked on; an' four years after their marriage she told me herself she never had an ache in her heart since she married him. That was fine tellin', sir, wasn't it? Four years, mind ye. Why, when Mary was alive (my wife, sir) we had a shindy twice a week, reg'lar as clockwork. We wouldn't have known ourselves without it; but, however, that's nayther here nor there," says Mr. Scully, pulling himself up short. "An' I ask yer pardon, sir, for pushing private matters on ye like this."

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The minutes go by slowly, slowly; a clock from some distant steeple chimes the hour. The soft pattering of rain upon the walk outside, and now upon the window-pane, is all the sound that can be heard.,

"Is there no hope?" asks Geoffrey, gravely.,

Ashamed of his vehemence, he stoops, and, raising the will from the ground, presents it to her courteously. "Take it: it is yours," he says. Mona closes her fingers on it vigorously, and by a last effort of grace suppresses the sigh of relief that rises from her heart.,

Passing his arm round her, he draws her closer to him.