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"What a dismal view you take of my trip! Perhaps, in spite of your forebodings, I shall enjoy myself down to the ground, and weep copiously on leaving Irish soil.",Of waving bough, or warbling bird,,No answer.,The Australian struggles for a moment. Then, finding Geoffrey too many for him, he looses one of his hands, and, thrusting it between his shirt and waistcoat, brings to light a tiny dagger, very flat, and lightly sheathed.,When he left the camp, he travelled toward the Sand Hills. On the fourth night of his journeying he had a dream. He dreamed that he went into a little lodge in which was an old woman. This old woman said to him, "Why are you here, my son?","Call me Geoffrey.","Oh, Geoffrey, how could you do it?" she says, reproachfully, alluding to his marriage,—"you whom I have so loved. What would your poor father have thought had he lived to see this unhappy day? You must have been mad.",Mona smiles too in return, though still heavy at heart.,"I am glad you have been pleased to-night," says Mona, shyly, abashed by his studied silence. "But," nervously, "Killarney is even more beautiful. You must go there.","Is that all?" says Mona, with quick contempt, seeing him pause. "Why, there is nothing in that! I pinned a flower into your coat only yesterday.","Yes, really, you know. I'm in earnest," declares Mr. Darling, laughing too. He is quite delighted with Mona. To find his path through life strewn with people who will laugh with him, or even at him, is his idea of perfect bliss. So he chatters on to her until, bed-hour coming, and candles being forced into notice, he is at length obliged to tear himself away from her and follow the men to the smoking-room.,"I'm off, miss," says the miscreant, and, true to his word, darts through the hedge again like a shaft from a bow, and, scurrying through the fields, is soon lost to sight..