क्रिकेट आज का

क्रिकेट आज का 100,000 players "Hist, Miss Mona! hist!" says this voice close at Mona's ear. She starts violently.,Lady Rodney shudders.,"Well said!" cries the old man from the chimney-corner, slapping his knee with delight; "well said, indeed! It reminds me of the ould days when we'd swear to any lie to please the lass we loved. Ay, very good, very good.",Mona turns pale.,"It means death to me," replies he, in a low tone. "It means that I shall lose you."，"Yes, quite in time," says Mona. Then she pauses, looking at him so earnestly that he is compelled to return her gaze. "You shall have another dance," she says, in her clear voice, that is perfectly distinct to every one; "but you must not call me Mrs. Rodney: I am only Mrs. Geoffrey!"，"That was a little unfair, wasn't it?" says Mona. "Why didn't he divide it?"，She is a very little girl, quite half a head shorter than Mona, and, now that one can see her more plainly as she stands on the hearthrug, something more than commonly pretty."I wonder you do not hate me," says Mona, with a brokenhearted sob, "when you remember I am of the same blood as these wretches."

"Oh, no, I haven't, now," says Rodney, reassuringly "You don't look a bit unhappy; you only look as sweet as an angel.","Ah! sure you know I wouldn't do that, now," returns she, with a stronger touch of her native brogue than she has used for many a day; at which they all laugh heartily, even Lady Rodney chiming in as easily as though the day had never been when she had sneered contemptuously at that selfsame Irish tongue.,The place she has chosen as her mirror is a still pool fringed with drooping grasses and trailing ferns that make yet more dark the sanded floor of the stream.,"Yes I have: aunty gave me hers when I was leaving town. It was no use to her and I loved it. I was at school in Portarlington for nearly three years, and when I came back from it I didn't care for Anastasia's friends, and found my only comfort in my music. I am telling you everything am I not," with a wistful smile, "and perhaps I weary you?","I—will—not," says Mona, brokenly.,Her companion is singularly silent. Scarce one word has escaped him since she first laid her hand upon his arm, and now again dumbness, or some hidden feeling, seals his lips.,"Thank you," says Geoffrey, a little dryly, accepting her words as they are said, not as he feels they are meant.,"You didn't get possession of it in that way?" asks he, seizing her hands and trying to read her face.,"Sir Nicholas has sent me an invitation for the 19th," he says, presently, when the silence has become unendurable.,"Well, if only to oblige you, I'll take Truant.",For soule is forme and doth the bodie make.",Starting convulsively at the sound of her cry, he turns, and, drawing with lightning rapidity a tiny pistol from his pocket, raises his arm, and deliberately covers her..