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"No, you won't," interrupts his brother, smiling. "Though I think the poor child has done her duty now. Let him pass. It is he should hate me, not I him." "Everything has its romantic side," says Geoffrey, "even an Irish member, I dare say. And when you do induce Nolly to favor you with his last joke, you will see that it is positively bristling with romance." Then Mona rises, and they both come to the entrance of the small room, and stand where Lady Rodney can overhear what they are saying..

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"How tender! how touching!" she says, with a pensive smile, raising her luminous eyes to Geoffrey: whether it is the snail, or the leaf, or the slime, that is tender and touching, nobody knows; and nobody dares ask, lest he shall betray his ignorance. Nolly, I regret to say, gives way to emotion of a frivolous kind, and to cover it blows his nose sonorously. Whereupon Geoffrey, who is super-naturally grave, asks Lady Lilias if she will walk with him as far as the grotto. Everybody at this smiles involuntarily,—everybody, that is, except Nolly, who feels faint again, and turns a rich and lively crimson. "So stupid of your uncle to leave you a property in such a country!" says Lady Rodney, discontentedly. "But very like him, certainly. He was never happy unless he was buying land in some uninhabitable place. There was that farm in Wallachia,—your cousin Jane nearly died of chagrin when she found it was left to her, and the lawyers told her she should take it, whether she liked it or not. Wallachia! I don't know where it is, but I am sure it is close to the Bulgarian atrocities!" "I mean a real fairy," says Dorothy, shaking her head "If she were to come now this moment and say, 'Dorothy'——".