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"Mona, it is—it must be!" says Geoffrey, taking her hand; and so they both stand, almost breathless, on the high bank, listening intently. "Well, I can't, you know," with a sigh. "But no matter: you will enjoy the scenery even more by yourself." "No one blames you," says Mona; "yet it is hard that Nicholas should be made unhappy.".
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Violet has gone to the stables to bestow upon her bonny brown mare her usual morning offering of bread; Jack, of course, has gone with her. "Poor soul! poor soul!" says Mona, brokenly; then she drops her hand, and the woman, turning again to the lifeless body, as though in the poor cold clay lies her only solace, lets her head fall forward upon it. The inference is full of saddest meaning. Even Geoffrey feels the tears rise unbidden to his eyes. Mona, who has again been dancing with the duke, stopping near where the duchess is sitting, the latter beckons her to her side by a slight wave of her fan. To the duchess "a thing of beauty is a joy forever," and to gaze on Mona's lovely face and admire her tranquil but brilliant smile gives her a strange pleasure..
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