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"Coolnagurtheen.",CHAPTER VII.,"Whilst the scritch-owl, scritching loud,,"For one kiss this deed shall be yours," he whispers, "to do what you like with it.","I didn't make up the mare, miss, before comin' out wid ye," he says, mildly, telling this lie without a blush.,yet there is grandeur, too, in the scene around, and a beauty scarcely to be rivalled by June's sweetest efforts.,She withers Sir Nicholas with a parting glance, and then quits the room, Violet in her train, leaving her eldest son entirely puzzled.,Ten minutes later, having bidden their hostess a hearty farewell, they step out into the open air and walk towards the farm.,She hastens her steps, and runs down hurriedly into the hall below, which is almost as light as day. Turning aside, she makes for the library, and now (and not till now) remembers she has no light, and that the library, its shutters carefully closed every night by the invaluable Jenkins himself, is of necessity in perfect darkness.,"Open at this hour of the morning?",No one answers; the very moanings of the old crone in the chimney-corner are hushed as the clear young voice rings through the house, and then stops abruptly, as though its owner is overcome with emotion. The men move back a little, and glance uneasily and with some fear at her from under their brows.,"She doesn't understand," puts in Violet, quickly. "Mona, are you going to see everybody that may choose to call upon you, good, bad, and indifferent, from this till you die?".