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"I'm off, miss," says the miscreant, and, true to his word, darts through the hedge again like a shaft from a bow, and, scurrying through the fields, is soon lost to sight.,Another pause, longer than the last.,It is at this very moment the library door is suddenly flung open, and Jenkins appears upon the threshold, with his face as white as nature will permit, and his usually perfect manner much disturbed. "Sir Nicholas, can I speak to you for a moment?" he says, with much excitement, growing positively apoplectic in his endeavor to be calm.,Here he lays hands on Geoffrey.,"There, do go away!" says this woodland goddess. "I am sick of you and your stupidity.",Still evening on, and twilight gray,"Only!" says Mona. "Do you know, Mr. Moore has no more than that, and we think him very rich indeed! No, you have not been open with me: you should have told me. I haven't ever thought of you to myself as being a rich man. Now I shall have to begin and think of you a lover again in quite another light." She is evidently deeply aggrieved.,"Do you really?" asks Mona, earnestly.,Time passed. The boys grew old enough to go out and fast. They had their dreams. Each found his secret helper of mysterious power, and each became a warrior. Still they were very poor, compared with other young men of their age. They had bows, but only a few arrows. They were not able to pay some great medicine man to make shields for them. As yet they went to war only as servants.,,"Eh! you don't mean to say that after all my devotion you would then refuse me?" asks Mr. Darling, with some disgust.,"All that is morbid," says Mona: "you should try to conquer it. It is not healthy.".