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"Do," says the duchess.,"Try, try to understand me," entreats she, desperately, following him and laying her hand upon his arm. "It is only this. It would not make you happy,—not afterwards, when you could see the difference between me and the other women you have known. You are a gentleman; I am only a farmer's niece." She says this bravely, though it is agony to her proud nature to have to confess it.,He is overcome with contrition, and would perhaps have said something betraying his scorn of himself, but she prevents him.,"You believe!" with ineffable disgust. "And have you not even taken the trouble to make sure? How late in life you have developed a trusting disposition!","Impossible," says Mona.,He doesn't see.,The simple query confounds him more than might a more elaborate one put by a clever worldling. Why indeed?,The old woman smiled again.,By this time they have reached Dorothy's room, and now, sitting down, gaze mournfully at each other. Mona is so truly grieved that any one might well imagine this misfortune, that is rendering the very air heavy, in her own, rather than another's. And this wholesale sympathy, this surrendering of her body and mind to a grief that does not touch herself, is inexpressibly sweet to her poor little friend.,"I pity your wife," says Mona, almost severely.,"Certainly dear. Who is it?","And, besides, you can always see him, you know," goes on Mona, cheerfully. "It is not as if death had stolen him from you. He will be always somewhere; and you can look into his eyes, and read how his love for you has survived everything. And perhaps, after some time, he may distinguish himself in some way and gain a position far grander than mere money or rank can afford, because you know he is wonderfully clever.".