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"What are ye talkin' about? Get out, ye spalpeen," says the woman, with an outward show of anger, but a warning frown meant for the man alone. "Let her do as she likes. Is it spakin' of fear ye are to Dan Scully's daughter?","Take me down," says Mona, wearily, turning to her lover, as the last faint ring of the horse's feet dies out on the breeze.,"You may depend upon me," says Rodney, lifting his hat, and respecting the elder man's care for the well-being of his beloved, even in the midst of his own immediate danger. Then, in another moment, Maxwell has turned his horse's head, and is soon out of sight.,"Sir Nicholas has sent me an invitation for the 19th," he says, presently, when the silence has become unendurable.,She herself destroys it presently.,She uncovers her eyes, and glances for a bare instant at Rodney. Then once more the heavily-fringed lids close upon the dark-blue eyes, as if to hide the anguish in them, and in a smothered voice she says, with clenched teeth and a face like marble, "Yes, you may kiss me,—if you will.",With this she inclines her head, and without another word goes back by the way she has come.,"Mona, it is not—it cannot be—but is it?" asks he incoherently.,It is ten days later,—ten dreary, interminable days, that have struggled into light, and sunk back again into darkness, leaving no trace worthy of remembrance in their train. "Swift as swallows' wings" they have flown, scarce breaking the air in their flight, so silently, so evenly they have departed, as days will, when dull monotony marks them for its own.,It is the 20th of February; already winter is dying out of mind, and little flowers are springing everywhere.,Mona grows livid, and takes a step forward.,"I did mean it. Of course I cannot marry you," says Mona, but rather weakly. The night has left her in a somewhat wavering frame of mind..