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Geoffrey, who would be at any moment as polite to a dairymaid as to a duchess, follows her, and, much to her discomfort,—though she is too civil to say so,—helps her to lay the table. He even insists on filling a dish with the potatoes, and having severely burned his fingers, and having nobly suppressed all appearance of pain,—beyond the dropping of two or three of the esculent roots upon the ground,—brings them in triumph to the spot where Mona is sitting.,"All that is morbid," says Mona: "you should try to conquer it. It is not healthy.","To what part of Ireland?","Yes, I recollect; they are from the 'Winter's Tale.' I think," says Mona, shyly; "but you say too much for me.","Some women in the great world overdo it," he goes on, "and choose things and colors utterly unsuited to their style. They are slaves to fashion. But,For a brief instant the Australian's eyes flash fire; then he lowers his lids, and laughs quite easily.,"My dear Oliver!" protests Lady Rodney, mildly.,"Tight,—screwed,—tipsy, you know," replies Mona, innocently. "Tight was the word they taught me. I think they believed it sounded more respectable than the others. And the Divinity boys were the worst. Shall I tell you about them?",She is comforted in a small degree by his words, but fear and depression still hold her captive. She insists upon his leaning on her, and he, seeing she is bent on being of some service to him, lays his hand lightly on her shoulder, and so they go slowly homeward.,"No; but I can fancy him, with his horrid bald head. Now, you know," holding up his hand to stop her as she is about to speak, "you know you said he hadn't a hair left on it.",Only a little withered bunch of heather, tied by a blade of grass! Nothing more!,"Well, then, I will not," returns she, with a last effort at determination, and the most miserable face in the world..