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She is a very little girl, quite half a head shorter than Mona, and, now that one can see her more plainly as she stands on the hearthrug, something more than commonly pretty.,"Let her thry," says old Brian, in his soft, Irish brogue, that comes kindly from his tongue. "She's mighty clever about most things.",Mona, though still angered, is yet somewhat softened by this speech, as might any woman. Her color fades again, and heavy tears, rising rapidly, quench the fire that only a moment since made her large eyes dark and passionate.,And the winter winds are wearily sighing;",Now, when the man fell into the pit he was hurt, for the hole was deep. After a time he tried to climb out, but he was so badly bruised that he could not do so. He sat there and waited, thinking that here he must surely die of hunger.,"Your husband is looking for you," she says to Mona, in an icy tone. "You had better go to him. This is no place for you.",This happened long ago.,"Then she doesn't know what she is talking about," says Mrs. Geoffrey, indignantly. "The idea of comparing Geoffrey with Jack!","Mrs. Rodney would perhaps prefer to dance, mother," he says, with some irritation.,With this she inclines her head, and without another word goes back by the way she has come.,"Good by, dear Paul," says Mona, very gently, impressed by his evident grief and earnestness.,"I wonder," she says to herself, softly, "whether he will be with me at the usual hour to-morrow, or,—a little earlier!".