"Who?" "What?" say Mona and Dorothy, in one breath.,
"I can't, because I don't know myself. It is my nature. However depressed I may feel at one instant, the next a passing thought may change my tears into a laugh. Perhaps that is why we are called fickle; yet it has nothing to do with it: it is a mere peculiarity of temperament, and a rather merciful gift, for which we should be grateful, because, though we return again to our troubles, still the moment or two of forgetfulness soothes us and nerves us for the conflict. I speak, of course, of only minor sorrows; such a grief as poor Kitty's admits of no alleviation. It will last for her lifetime.",
"But—bless me!—how awfully he must be in love with you to resign the Towers for your sake!" says Nolly, suddenly giving words to the thought that has been tormenting him for some time..
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