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At this voice every one starts! Mona, slipping her hand into Geoffrey's, draws him to one side; Lady Rodney rises from her sofa, and Sir Nicholas goes eagerly towards the door.,"Are you one of the others?",'Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven,,"It is all her doing," says the old man,—"Mona's, I mean. She loves those flowers more than anything on earth, I think. Her mother was the same; but she wasn't half the lass that Mona is. Never a mornin' in the cowld winter but she goes out there to see if the frost hasn't killed some of 'em the night before.","This day week, then," he says, having heard, and taken to heart the wisdom of, the old maxim about striking while the iron is hot.,And silence swells into a dreamy sound,,"How brilliant the moonlight is to-night! See—watch"—eagerly—"how the shadows chase each other down the Ranger's Hill!","Come a little farther," he says, gently, slinging the heavy bag across his own shoulders. "There must be a farmhouse somewhere.","I know that," says the man, sullenly. "But what of him?" pointing to Rodney, the ruffianly look still on his face. "The Englishman, I mane. Is he sure? It's a life, for a life afther all, when everything is towld.",She looks so full of belief in her own fancy that she inspires Doatie on the spot with a similar faith.,"It was more than a 'surprise.' That is a mild word," says Lady Rodney. She is looking at him, is telling herself what a goodly son he is, so tall and strong and bright and handsome. He might have married almost any one! And now—now——? No, she cannot forgive. "It was, and must always be, a lasting grief," she goes on, in a low tone.,"Very well, if you wish.".