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"Well?" says Sir Nicholas, as a deadly silence continues for some time after their departure, "what do you think of her?" "Yes,—in her own estimation," says the duchess, somewhat severely, whose crowning horror is a frisky matron, to which title little Mrs. Lennox may safely lay claim. "Oh, yes, they will," returns Doatie, emphatically, "They will probably hear a great deal of it! I shall speak of it morning, noon, and night, until out of sheer vexation of spirit they will come in a body and entreat you to remove me. Ah!" regretfully, "if only I had a fortune now, how sweet it would be! I never missed it before. We are really very unfortunate.".

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When the old man has gone, Mona goes quietly up to her lover, and, laying her hand upon his arm,—a hand that seems by some miraculous means to have grown whiter of late,—says, gratefully,— "I am indeed dear to you, I think," says Mona, softly and thankfully, growing a little pale through the intensity of her emotion. "Yes; the one with the brown feather," returns Mona, quickly, and with a smile radiant and grateful, that sinks into Violet's heart and rests there. For many days he had not known "that his heart was darkened with her shadow." Only yesterday he might perhaps have denied his love for her, so strange, so uncertain, so undreamt of, is the dawning of a first great attachment. One looks upon the object that attracts, and finds the deepest joy in looking, yet hardly realizes the great truth that she has become part of one's being, not to be eradicated until death or change come to the rescue..