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Her hair is falling like a veil all round her; through it she looks out at Rodney with eyes frightened and imploring.,"You insult me," says Dorothy, growing even whiter than she was before, "when you speak to me of—of——",A passionate admiration for her beauty and purity fills his breast: he could have fallen at her feet and cried aloud to her to take pity upon him, to let some loving thought for him—even him too—enter and find fruitful soil within her heart.,"Not so much so that I cannot help you to cross over in safety, if you will only trust yourself to me," replies he.,Each moment of delay only helps to increase her nervous excitement.,"And see what we gained by our haste," says Dorothy, smiling at Mona. "You can't think what a charming sight it was. Like an old legend or a fairy-tale. Was it a minuet you were dancing?",Here Mona and Dorothy grow suddenly deeply interested, and lean forward.,An hour later, coming out of it again, feeling harassed and anxious, he finds Dorothy walking restlessly up and down the corridor outside, as though listening for some sound she pines to hear. Her pretty face, usually so bright and debonnaire, is pale and sad. Her lips are trembling.,"What spirit, what courage, you displayed! At first I feared you would faint——",When they reached the river the old man said, "This is the place to stand and shoot. I will go down and drive them out.","You are indeed," he says, in a tone so grateful that it ought to have betrayed to her his meaning. But grief and disappointment have seized upon her.,In the distance a woman is bending over a keeler making up a huge mass of butter into rolls, nicely squared and smoothed, to make them look their best and handsomest to-morrow..