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Geoffrey, who would be at any moment as polite to a dairymaid as to a duchess, follows her, and, much to her discomfort,—though she is too civil to say so,—helps her to lay the table. He even insists on filling a dish with the potatoes, and having severely burned his fingers, and having nobly suppressed all appearance of pain,—beyond the dropping of two or three of the esculent roots upon the ground,—brings them in triumph to the spot where Mona is sitting.,"But I hope you will not be disappointed when you see it," she says, gently. "You have the real Killarney fern, Sir Nicholas, I can see; the other, I speak of, though to me almost as lovely, is not a bit like it.","Yes; Gabriel—poor Gabriel and Evangeline," returns she, too wrapped up in recollections of that sad and touching tale to take to heart his meaning:—,But on this picture, the beauty of which is undeniable, Mickey (the barbarian) looks with disfavor.,"Poor infant! It is her first essay," says Nolly, pitifully.,"Give me one, Nolly," says Sir Nicholas, rousing from his reverie.,"I have heard of you," says Mona, quietly. Then, pointing towards that part of the wood whither he would go, she says, coldly, "I regret I cannot tell you where this path leads to. Good-morning.",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 is it, Jenkins? Speak!" says Lady Rodney, rising from her chair, and staying him, as he would leave the room, by an imperious gesture.,"The boys!" repeats he, mystified.,"Mona! Are you crying for me?" says Paul Rodney, as though surprised. "Do not. Your tears hurt me more than this wound that has done me to death.","This is dreadful!" says Doatie. "But"—brightening—"surely it is not so bad as death or disgrace, is it?".