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He tells Mona she is very welcome, and, still holding her hand, draws her over to the fire, and moves a big arm-chair in front of it, in which he ensconces her, bidding her warm herself, and make herself (as he says with a kindly smile that has still kinder meaning in it) "quite at home." "So Mr. Moore says," returns she, smiling. "After all, I am half glad Nicholas is not to be routed," he says, presently, with some weariness in his tone. "The game wasn't worth the candle; I should never have been able to do the grand seigneur as he does it. I suppose I am not to the manner born. Besides, I bear him no malice.".
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This is a handsome offer, all things considered, but Mona turns a deaf ear to it. She is standing on her door-step at this moment, and now descends until she reaches the tiny gravelled path. A dead silence follows. Lady Rodney raises her head, scenting mischief in the air. "Is it a long drive, Geoff?" she asks, presently, in a trembling tone, slipping her hand into his in the old fashion. "About six miles. I say, darling, keep up your spirits; if we don't like it, we can leave, you know. But"—alluding to her subdued voice—"don't be imagining evil." She flushes, opens her lips as if to speak, and yet is dumb,—perhaps through excess of emotion..
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