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She is sitting before a spinning-wheel, and is deftly drawing the wool through her fingers; brown little fingers they are, but none the less dear in his sight.,"Thank you," says Geoffrey, "but——",It revives him somewhat. And presently the intenser pallor dies away, and speech returns to him.,CHAPTER X.,Of course this was on the day after their return to England, before his own people knew of their arrival.,"Is he there?" asks Mona, pointing with trembling fingers to the house.,"I beg your pardon," she manages to say. "Of course had I known you were listening at the door I should not have said what I did,"—this last with a desire to offend.,The whole firmament is of a soft azure, flecked here and there with snowy clouds tipped with palest gray. A little cloud—the tenderest veil of mist—hangs between earth and sky.,"Now, do they?" says Mona. "I thought they always wore lovely clothes. In books they always do; but I was too young when with Aunt Anastasia in Dublin to go out. Somehow, what one imagines is sure to be wrong. I remember," laughing, "when I firmly believed the queen never was seen without her crown on her head.","It is Mr. Moore's retriever!" cries Mona, hurriedly, in a startled tone. "I must run. Down, Fan! down! Oh, if he catches me here, in this dress, what will he think? Quick, Geoffrey, give me my shawl!","But what was the subject of it?",She would have gone to him then, and tried to console him in her own pretty fashion, but he motions her to stay where she is..