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It is the 20th of February; already winter is dying out of mind, and little flowers are springing everywhere.,Up the stairs she takes her and into her own room, without saying a word. Then she carefully turns the key in the door, and, placing Mona in a large and cosey arm-chair, stands opposite to her, and thus begins,—,"It is like the garden of the palace where the Sleeping Beauty dwelt," whispers Mona to Nolly; she is delighted, charmed, lost in admiration.,Geoffrey, moving to one side, stands where he can no longer be seen, feeling instinctively that the ebbing life before him finds its sole consolation in the thought of Mona. She is all he desires. From her he gains courage to face the coming awful moment, when he shall have to clasp the hand of Death and go forth with him to meet the great unknown.,Any demonstration on her part just now may make a scene, and scenes are ever abhorrent. And might she not yet further widen the breach between mother and son by an ill-timed show of affection for the latter?,"I don't know," says Mona unconvinced. "I would go against all the people in the world rather than be bad to you. And to forsake him, too, at the very time when he will most want sympathy, at the very hour of his great trouble. Oh! that is shameful! I shall not like her, I think.","It shall be as you say," replied the Wolf. "It is yours to give.",He is overcome with contrition, and would perhaps have said something betraying his scorn of himself, but she prevents him.,"Yes; every one admires it. It is very old. You know one part of the Towers is older than all the rest.","Call off that dog," cries Geoffrey, turning savagely to Mona. Whereupon, having gained her purpose, Mona bids the dog lie down, and the faithful brute, exquisitely trained, and unequal to disobedience, drops off his foe at her command and falls crouching to the ground, yet with his eyes red and bloodshot, and his breath coming in parting gasps that betray the wrath he would gladly gratify.,"Sure you know I'd tell you if there was anything to tell," replies she, evasively.,"Would you bite me?" murmurs she, fondly, as the bird flies off again alarmed at the presence of the tall stranger, who already is busy comparing most favorably the face of its mistress with the faces of all the fashionable beauties London has been raving about for eighteen months. "Every morning they torment me like this," she says, turning to Geoffrey, with a little pleasant confidential nod..