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"Coolnagurtheen.","Come home, Mona; be advised by me," says Geoffrey, gently, as the man skulks away, walking in a shambling, uncertain fashion, and with a curious trick of looking every now and then over his shoulder, as though expecting to see an unwelcome follower.,Thus at odd moments time can treble itself; but with the blessed daylight come comfort and renewed hope, and Geoffrey, greeting with rapture the happy morn, that,,"Come," he said, taking hold of her arm.,"Maybe," says Betty Corcoran, turning in a genial fashion to Mona and Geoffrey, "ye'd ate a pratie, would ye, now? They're raal nice an' floury. Ye must be hungry, Miss Mona, afther all the work ye've gone through; an' if you an' your gintleman would condescind to the like of my dinner, 'tis ready for ye, an' welcome ye are to it. Do, now!" heartily. "The praties is gran' this year,—praises be for all mercies. Amen.","I don't see how it could take any one long," says Rodney.,"Oh, yes, thank you," says Mona, who is both surprised and carried away by the other's unexpected eloquence.,"What does she mean?" asks he of his brother, who is distinctly amused. "Does she wish poor old Geoff had married a bad one? I confess myself at fault.",She is plainly quite enchanted with the sensation she is creating, though she is far from comprehending how complete that sensation is. Something in her expression appeals to Doatie's heart and makes her involuntarily go closer to her. Her face is transfigured. It is full of love and unselfish joy and happy exultation: always lovely, there is at this moment something divine about her beauty.,"You have not tired yourself, dear, I hope. The day has been so oppressively warm, more like July than May. Would you like your tea now, Violet? We can have it half an hour earner if you wish.",This answer, being so full of thorough unconsciousness and childish naivete, has the effect of reducing the duke to common sense once more, and of making him very properly ashamed of himself. He feels, however, rather out of it for a minute or two, which feeling renders him silent and somewhat distrait. So Mona, flung upon her own resources, looks round the room seeking for inspiration, and presently finds it.,"No, she didn't," interposes he, lightly. "She never funked it for a moment: she's got any amount of pluck. He didn't exactly press it against her forehead, you know; but," airily, "it is all the same thing.".