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"It is the sweetest thing that could have happened," says Dorothy, enthusiastically. "Now Mona and you and I will be real sisters.",

"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. One can understand that," replies she, gravely, not heeding the closeness of his regard. "Many things affect me curiously," she goes on, dreamily,—"sad pictures and poetry and the sound of sweet music.",

An old man, rugged but kindly-featured, rises on his entrance, and gazes at him expectantly. Mona, going up to him, rests her hand upon his arm, and, indicating Geoffrey by a gesture, says, in a low tone,—

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She turns slowly, and finds her fellow-pedestrian is a young man clad in a suit of very impossible tweed: she blushes hotly, not because he is a young man, but because she has no hat on her head, having covered her somewhat riotous hair with a crimson silk handkerchief she had found in Geoffrey's room, just before starting. It covers her head completely, and is tied under the chin Connemara fashion, letting only a few little love-locks be seen, that roam across her forehead, in spite of all injunctions to the contrary.,

Of Violet Mansergh—who is still at the Towers, her father being abroad and Lady Rodney very desirous of having her with her—she knows little. Violet is cold, but quite civil, as Englishwomen will be until they know you. She is, besides, somewhat prejudiced against Mona, because—being honest herself—she has believed all the false tales told her of the Irish girl. These silly tales, in spite of her belief in her own independence of thought, weigh upon her; and so she draws back from Mona, and speaks little to her, and then of only ordinary topics, while the poor child is pining for some woman to whom she can open her mind and whom she may count as an honest friend "For talking with a friend," says Addison, "is nothing else but thinking aloud.",

"Not very," says Geoffrey. "It seems only just now that Mickey and the dogs left us." Together they examine his watch, by the light of the moon, and see that it is quite ten o'clock.,

"Yes" replies he, slowly as though regretful that he cannot deny his own identity.