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Lady Rodney, too, is quite happy. Everything has come right; all is smooth again; there is no longer cause for chagrin and never-ending fear. With Paul Rodney's death the latter feeling ceased, and Mona's greatness of heart has subdued the former. She has conquered and laid her enemy low: without the use of any murderous force the walls have fallen down before her, and she has marched into the citadel with colors flying.,"We must see," says Mona, thoughtfully.,"No, no," she says, drawing herself up and speaking with a touch of pride that sits very sweetly on her; "I beg you will say nothing. Mere words could not cure the wound you have inflicted.",Every one is delighted. Perhaps Nolly and Jack Rodney are conscious of a wild desire to laugh, but if so, they manfully suppress it, and behave as decorously as the rest.,"I don't mean that; but how could you look?",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.,"Very.",Slowly he draws from his pocket a paper, folded neatly, that looks like some old parchment. Mona draws her breath quickly, and turns first crimson with emotion, then pale as death. Opening it at a certain page, he points out to her the signature of George Rodney, the old baronet.,"I am a stranger; I know nothing," she says again, hardly knowing what to say, and moving a little as though she would depart.,"I hope you are enjoying yourself," she says, presently, hardly knowing what else to say.,"Your foot is plainly 'on your native heath,'" says Nolly, "though your name may not be 'McGregor.' What on earth were you saying to that old woman for the last four hours?","How did it happen?" she asks, presently..