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"Sir Nicholas has sent me an invitation for the 19th," he says, presently, when the silence has become unendurable.,"Again I fail to understand," says Paul; but his very lips grow livid. "Perhaps for the second time, and with the same delicacy you used at first, you will condescend to explain.","I did get on to it, if you mean the laurel," says Nolly with calm dignity. "I climbed most manfully, and, beyond slipping all down the trunk of the tree twice, and severely barking my shins, I sustained no actual injury.","This day week, then," he says, having heard, and taken to heart the wisdom of, the old maxim about striking while the iron is hot.,Her eyes fill with tears.,"You speak like a lover," says Lady Rodney, with an artificial laugh. "Do you repeat all this to Dorothy? She must find it very interesting.","If it was a political quip," says Violet, "I shouldn't care about it.","I am quite comfortable, thank you.","I mean a real fairy," says Dorothy, shaking her head "If she were to come now this moment and say, 'Dorothy'——","Now, look here," he says, impressively: "I hope nobody is going to indulge in so much as a covert smile to-day." He glances severely at Nolly, who is already wreathed in smiles. "Because the Æsthetic won't have it. She wouldn't hear of it at any price. We must all be in tense! If you don't understand what that means, Mona, you had better learn at once. You are to be silent, rapt, lifted far above all the vulgar commonplaces of life. You may, if you like, go into a rapture over a colorless pebble, or shed tears of joy above a sickly lily; but avoid ordinary admiration.","Then I will sing you a song I was sent last week," says Mona, and forthwith sings him "Years Ago," mournfully, pathetically, and with all her soul, as it should be sung. Then she gives him "London Bridge," and then "Rose-Marie," and then she takes her fingers from the piano and looks at him with a fond hope that he will see fit to praise her work.,"An' a nate color too," says this woman, who is bare-footed, beneath her breath, regarding with admiration the yellow tint of the object on which she is engaged. Two pullets, feathered like a partridge, are creeping stealthily into the dairy, their heads turned knowingly on one side, their steps slow and cautious; not even the faintest chirrup escapes them, lest it be the cause of their instant dismissal. There is no sound anywhere but the soft music that falls from Mona's lips..