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Mona watches him from her window, as far as the curve in the avenue will permit, and, having received and returned his farewell wave of the hand, sits down, and taking out her handkerchief, indulges in a good cry.,"N—o. As far as I can remember," says Geoffrey, thoughtfully, pulling his moustache, "you were so overcome with delight at the unexpected honor I did you, that——","But why?" asks Mona, in amaze. "Didn't he wear one?",The ghost asked him to come into his lodge, and he entered.,"Is she by herself? Is there nobody living with her?" asks Mona, somewhat nervously.,"Is that the fashion here? If—if you loved a man, would you be faithful to him forever?",Still she hesitates, and he is not slow to notice the eloquent pause.,"Oh, Mona, do you mean that?" he says. But Mona, who is very justly incensed, declines to answer him with civility.,She says this steadily, and very proudly, with her head held high, but without looking at him; which permits Geoffrey to gaze at her exhaustively. There is an unconscious meaning in her words, quite clear to him. She is of "the people," he of a class that looks but coldly upon hers. A mighty river, called Caste, rolls between them, dividing him from her. But shall it? Some hazy thought like this floats through his brain. They walk on silently, scarcely exchanging a syllable one with the other, until they come within sight of a small thatched house built at the side of the road. It has a manure-heap just in front of it, and a filthy pool to its left, in which an ancient sow is wallowing, whilst grunting harmoniously.,,"That was very nasty of me," confesses Mona. "Yet," with a sigh, "perhaps I was right.",Every evening about sundown the man used to climb up to the top of this butte and sit there and look all over the country to see where the buffalo were feeding and whether any enemies were moving about. On top of the hill there was a buffalo skull, on which he used to sit..