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"No; not a petty squire," says Mona; "and I think you do know him. And why should I be ashamed to tell my name to any one?",Comes forth with pilgrim steps in amice gray","Don't be afraid. It is quite the correct thing to be eccentric nowadays. One is nowhere if not bizarre," says Rodney, laughing; "so I dare say you will find yourself the very height of fashion.","Well, just after luncheon Letitia, your maid, brought me a note. I opened it. It was from Paul Rodney, asking me to meet him at three o'clock, as he had something of importance to say that concerned not me but those I loved. When he said that," says Mona, looking round upon them all with a large, soft, comprehensive glance, and a sweet smile, "I knew he meant you. So I went. I got into my coat and hat, and ran all the way to the spot he had appointed,—the big chestnut-tree near the millstream: you know it, Geoff, don't you?","Well, at least I sha'n't have many more opportunities of meeting him," says Rodney. "I shall leave this country as soon as I can. Tell Nicholas to keep the title with the rest. I shall never use it. And now," growing very pale, "it only remains to say good-by.","Oh! Paddy," she says, as a small figure, unkempt, and only half clad, creeps through the hedge and stops short in her path.,"Hist, Miss Mona! hist!" says this voice close at Mona's ear. She starts violently.,And now the horses draw up before a brilliantly-lighted hall, the doors of which are thrown wide as though in hospitable expectation of their coming.,"Well, then, sure you know I would," confesses she, shyly but honestly. Whereupon rapture ensues that lasts for a full minute.,"I do adore somebody," returns that ingenuous youth, staring openly at Mona, who is taking up the last stitch dropped by Lady Rodney in the little scarlet silk sock she is knitting for Phyllis Carrington's boy.,The duchess gives it up. "Yes, and a far better one, too," she says, amiably, declining to explain. Indeed, she is delighted to meet a young woman who actually regards slang as a foreign and unstudied language, and shrinks from being the first to help her to forget the English tongue. "Is there much beauty in Ireland?" she asks, presently.,"That is Mona's voice," says Doatie. "I must go. Finish your letters, and come for me then, and we can go into the garden and talk it all over again. Come in, Mona; I am here.".