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"Yes, I recollect; they are from the 'Winter's Tale.' I think," says Mona, shyly; "but you say too much for me.",So he takes her hand, and together they lean over the brink and survey themselves in Nature's glass. Lightly their faces sway to and fro as the running water rushes across the pool,—sway, but do not part; they are always together, as though in anticipation of that happy time when their lives shall be one. It seems like a good omen; and Mona, in whose breast rests a little of the superstition that lies innate in every Irish heart, turns to her lover and looks at him.,It is the first time since their marriage that she and Geoffrey have been parted, and it seems to her a hard thing that such partings should be. A sense of desolation creeps over her,—a sense of loneliness she has never known before.,"I am content to stay here until the day dawns, if you keep me company," replies he, easily.,"Yes, I do," says Mona, truthfully. "Just now, at least. Perhaps"—sadly—"when I am your age I sha'n't.","Go home now to your wife and your child, and when you are hungry hunt like any one else. If you do not, you shall die.","Oh not for ever so long," returns she, with much and heartless unconcern. (His spirits sink to zero.) "Certainly not until Friday," she goes on, carelessly. (As this is Wednesday, his spirits once more rise into the seventh heaven.) "Or Saturday, or Sunday, or perhaps some day next week," she says, unkindly.,"Oh, yes, I do," says Dorothy, with a wise shake of her blonde head; "you mean that probably we shall not be able to order any furniture at all. Well, even if it comes to sitting on one horrid kitchen deal chair with you, Nicholas, I sha'n't mind it a scrap." She smiles divinely, and with the utmost cheerfulness, as she says this. But then she has never tried to sit on a deal chair, and it is a simple matter to conjure up a smile when woes are imaginary.,"Lady Lilias Eaton, you mean?" asks Lady Rodney. "That reminds me we are bound to go over there to-morrow. At least, some of us.","It was one of Nolly's good things," he says, genially. "And you know what he is capable of when he likes! It was funny to the last degree,—calculated to set any 'table in a roar.'—Give it to us again, Nolly—it bears repeating.—Ask him to tell it to you, Violet.","You shall guess," says Mrs. Geoffrey, gayly, with a little laugh. "Now, where do you think?","You believe!" with ineffable disgust. "And have you not even taken the trouble to make sure? How late in life you have developed a trusting disposition!".