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Slowly she turns her head away from him, and, as though following out a train of thought, fixes her eyes upon the panelled wall in front of her. The next morning the young man awoke and went on toward the next butte. It took him a long summer's day to get there, but he found there no lodge, so he lay down and slept. Again he dreamed. In his dream he saw a little lodge, and saw an old woman come to the door and heard her call to him. He went into the lodge, and she spoke to him. Geoffrey says nothing. But Sir Nicholas, as though impulsively, says,—.
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"I think," says Geoffrey, slightly disconcerted by the sweet leisure of her gaze, "I have lost my way. I have been walking since sunrise, and I want you to tell me where I am." "Well, yes, so they say," returns her visitor, airily who is plainly determined not to be done out of a good thing, and insists on bringing in deliberate suicide as a fit ending to this enthralling tale. "And of course it is very nice of every one, and quite right too. But there is no doubt, I think, that he loved her. You will pardon me, Lady Rodney, but I am convinced he adored Mrs. Geoffrey." But when to-morrow comes it brings to him a very different Mona from the one he saw yesterday. A pale girl, with great large sombrous eyes and compressed lips, meets him, and places her hand in his without a word. "No. Play anything monotonous, that is slow and dignified besides, and it will answer; in fact, anything at all," says Geoffrey, largely, at which Violet smiles and seats herself at the piano..
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