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They have entered the cottage by this time, and are standing in the tiny hall. "No," he replied, "I am in a hurry; I cannot wait." She kept calling to him, and when she had called him the fourth time he went over where he was to slide with her. "Yes," she says, with cheeks colored to a rich carmine, and flashing eyes, and lips that quiver in spite of all her efforts at control, "that is the bit of heather you gave me, and that is the grass that tied it. I kept it because it reminded me of a day when I was happy. Now," bitterly, "I no longer care for it: for the future it can only bring back to me an hour when I was grieved and wounded.".
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"You mustn't think I supposed you kept it for any other purpose," he says, quite solemnly, and in such a depressed tone that Mona almost feels sorry for him. At this point the house comes in view, and conversation languishes. The women give a small touch to their furs and laces, the men indulge in a final yawn that is to last them until the gates of Anadale close behind them again. "He must adore you; and no wonder, too," says Mr. Darling, so emphatically that every one smiles, and Jack, clapping him on the back, says,— "It can't be much," says Geoffrey, who, to confess the truth, is by this time feeling a little sick and faint. "I never knew I was touched till now. Come, let us get back to the farm.".
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