"You have something important to say to me," says Mona, presently, seeing he will not speak: "at least, so your letter led me to believe.",
It is dreary waiting. No sleep comes to her eyes; she barely moves; the dogs slumber drowsily, and moan and start in their sleep, "fighting their battles o'er again," it may be, or anticipating future warfare. Slowly, ominously, the clock strikes twelve. Two hours have slipped into eternity; midnight is at hand!,
"Oh, no," says Geoffrey, hastily, recovering himself just in time; "she's all right, you know, my mother; and you'll like her awfully when—when you know her, and when—when she knows you.".
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