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"A week? I should be dead when you came back," declares Mrs. Geoffrey, with some vehemence, and a glance that shows she can dissolve into tears at a moment's notice.,"I know," says Mona, brightening, and putting on an air so different from her own usual unaffected one as to strike her listener with awe. "I shall say, 'Oh! thanks, quite too awfully much, don't you know? but Geoffrey and I didn't find it a bit long, and we were as warm as wool all the time.'","Oh, Dorothy, don't do that! Don't, my dearest, my pet!" he entreats. "I won't say another word, not one, if you will only stop.",In those days the old Piegans lived in the north, close to the Red Deer River. The camp moved, and the lodges were pitched on the river. One day two old men who were close friends had gone out from the camp to find some straight cherry shoots with which to make arrows. After they had gathered their shafts, they sat down on a high bank by the river and began to peel the bark from the shoots. The river was high. One of these men was named Weasel Heart and the other Fisher.,"Blame no one," says Mona. "But if there is anything in your own heart to condemn you, then pause before you go further in this matter of the Towers.","I wish Nick didn't like her so much," says Geoffrey, sadly. "It will cut him up more than all the rest, if he has to give her up.","To what part of Ireland?","If you have Jenkins on your side you are pretty safe," says Geoffrey. "My mother is more afraid of Jenkins than you would be of a land-leaguer. Well, good-by again. I must be off.",To him, however, all is different; and the hour is fraught with a tremulous joy, and with a vague sweet longing that means love as yet untold.,"But why, darling? Could you not be happy as my wife?",By this time they have reached Dorothy's room, and now, sitting down, gaze mournfully at each other. Mona is so truly grieved that any one might well imagine this misfortune, that is rendering the very air heavy, in her own, rather than another's. And this wholesale sympathy, this surrendering of her body and mind to a grief that does not touch herself, is inexpressibly sweet to her poor little friend.,A sob escapes her, and falls heavily on Geoffrey's heart. He is not proof against a woman's tears,—as no true man ever is,—especially her tears, and so he gives in at once..