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Mona is enchanted with the many varieties she sees that are unknown to her, and, being very much not of the world, is not ashamed to express her delight. Looking carefully through all, she yet notices that a tiny one, dear to her, because common to her sweet Killarney, is not among his collection.,The next day Scarface went on again, stopping now and then to rest and to pick berries, and when night came he was at the bear's lodge.,"'Top corner,—right hand,'" goes on Mona, taking no heed of him, and speaking in the same low, mysterious, far-off tone.,"I do adore somebody," returns that ingenuous youth, staring openly at Mona, who is taking up the last stitch dropped by Lady Rodney in the little scarlet silk sock she is knitting for Phyllis Carrington's boy.,But Mr. Rodney is determined to "have it out with her," as he himself would say, before consenting to fade away out of her sight.,"Give it to me!" cries she, impulsively, her voice, trembling. "It is the missing will. You found it last night. It belongs to Nicholas. You must—nay," softly, beseechingly, "you will give it to me.","Bridget," says Mona, "will you go in and get me a cup of tea before I go to bed? I am tired.","Perhaps Lady Rodney would not like it.",Seeing further talk is useless, Mona slips her hand into Rodney's and leads him down the road.,Then she knows she is speaking to "the Australian," (as she has heard him called), and, lifting her head, examines his face with renewed interest. Not a pleasant face by any means, yet not altogether bad, as she tells herself in the generosity of her heart.,"That word should never have been said. It is better broken.",Must she go back for a candle? Must she pass again all those belted knights upon the staircase and in the upper gallery? No! rather will she brave the darkness of the more congenial library, and—but soft—what is that? Surely a tiny gleam of light is creeping to her feet from beneath the door of the room towards which she wends her way..