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"I think you had better come home," says Geoffrey, deeply angered with her. "You must not stay here catching cold.",He points as he speaks to the ignorant Paddy, who is sitting on the ground with his knees between his hands, crooning a melancholy ditty.,"There can be scarcely any question about that," says Lady Rodney, unwilling to let any occasion pass that may permit a slap at Mona.,"It is, in fact, the real and original 'old, old story," says Geoffrey, innocently, smiling mildly at the leg of a distant table.,But Mona has read, and understands perfectly.,Friday is fine, and towards nightfall grows still milder, until it seems that even in the dawn of October a summer's night may be born.,He drops her arm, and looks as though he is prepared to drop her acquaintance also, at a moment's notice.,"I do remember it," replies she, bitterly.,Of waving bough, or warbling bird,,Mona takes no notice of his words, but still stands by the table, with her hands folded, her long white robes clinging to her, her eyes lowered, her whole demeanor like that of some mediæval saint. So thinks Rodney, who is gazing at her as though he would forever imprint upon his brain the remembrance of a vision as pure as it is perfect.,"He won't go into the stable to-night," says Mona, comfortably.,"Why make a fool of me?" the poor man asked. "My heart is sad. I am crying." He covered his head with his robe and wept..