"Oh, no," says Mona, shocked at this interpretation of her manner. "I did not mean all that; only I really did not require it; at least"—truthfully—"not much. And, besides, a song is not like a gold chain; and you are quite different from them; and besides, again,"—growing slightly confused, yet with a last remnant of courage,—"there is no reason why you should give me anything. Shall I"—hurriedly—"sing something else for you?",
"It is, miss; I know it, sir; but if the old man comes out an' finds the mare widout her bed, there'll be all the world to pay, an' he'll be screechin' mad.",
"What, indeed?" says Geoffrey, tragically. "Worse still, what would have become of poor Mona?".
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