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CHAPTER XIV.,"No, it didn't: it made it all wrong. But for that lie we should not be in the predicament in which we now find ourselves. You will understand me better when I tell you that the other day a young man turned up who declares himself to be my uncle George's son, and heir to his land and title. That was a blow. And, as this wretched will is not forthcoming, I fear he will inherit everything. We are disputing it, of course, and are looking high and low for the missing will that should have been sought for at the first. But it's very shaky the whole affair.","And thinks you perfection?" in an impossible tone, losing both his head and his temper completely. "He is rich, I suppose; why don't you marry him?","I don't know myself. I wandered in a desultory fashion through the wood on leaving you, not caring to return home just then, and I was thinking of—of you, of course—when I stumbled against something (they tell me it was a gnarled root that had thrust itself above ground), and then there was a report, and a sharp pang; and that was all. I remember nothing. The gamekeeper found me a few minutes later, and had me brought here.","I am perfectly content, nay more than content, with the match I have made," he says, haughtily; "and if you are alluding to Paul Rodney, I can only say I have noticed nothing reprehensible in Mona's treatment of him.","Well, at least I sha'n't have many more opportunities of meeting him," says Rodney. "I shall leave this country as soon as I can. Tell Nicholas to keep the title with the rest. I shall never use it. And now," growing very pale, "it only remains to say good-by.","Get off now, my brother, get off," said the bear. "There is the camp of your people. I shall leave you"; and at once he turned and went off up the mountain.,"Nothing on earth shall bring me to say that," says Mona, solemnly. "Nothing!","Bring wood," the chief called out; "let every one bring some wood; all you have at your lodges. Those who have none, let them go quickly and bring some from the timber.","You didn't get possession of it in that way?" asks he, seizing her hands and trying to read her face.,Is scorned abroad, and lives on tricks at home?",She is sitting before a spinning-wheel, and is deftly drawing the wool through her fingers; brown little fingers they are, but none the less dear in his sight..