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yet there is grandeur, too, in the scene around, and a beauty scarcely to be rivalled by June's sweetest efforts. "How pretty that is! Yet I should like you to see me, if only for once, as you have seen others," says Mona. "For the agint, miss. Oh, if ye tell on me now they'll kill me. Maxil, ye know; me lord's agint.".

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Presently, seeing she is again smiling and looking inexpressibly happy, for laughter comes readily to her lips, and tears, as a rule, make no long stay with her,—ashamed, perhaps, to disfigure the fair "windows of her soul," that are so "darkly, deeply, beautifully blue,"—"So you will come to England with me, after all?" he says, quite gayly. "Ah! so I was," says Lady Lilias, with a sigh of relief: she is quite too intense to feel any of the petty vexations of ordinary mortals, and takes Mona's help in excellent part. "Yes, I really think there is loveliness in a pig when surrounded by its offspring. I have seen them once or twice, and I think the little pigs—the—the——" She tucks up her dignified train in a most undignified haste, while Geoffrey covers up all the finery with the crimson shawl. The white cloud is once more thrown over the dainty cap; all the pretty coloring vanishes out of sight; and Mona, after one last lingering glance at Geoffrey, follows its example. She, too, flies across the rural bridge into the covert of her own small domain. "You seem to take my success in this case as a certainty," he says, with a frown. "I may fail.".