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To her it is an awful moment. Never before has she stood face to face with dissolution, to wait for the snapping of the chain,—the breaking of the bowl. "Neither the sun nor death," says La Rochefoucauld, "can be looked at steadily;" and now "Death's thousand doors stand open" to receive this man that but an hour agone was full of life as she is now. His pulses throbbed, his blood coursed lightly through his veins, the grave seemed a far-off destination; yet here he lies, smitten to the earth, beaten down and trodden under, with nothing further to anticipate but the last change of all.,

Of Violet Mansergh—who is still at the Towers, her father being abroad and Lady Rodney very desirous of having her with her—she knows little. Violet is cold, but quite civil, as Englishwomen will be until they know you. She is, besides, somewhat prejudiced against Mona, because—being honest herself—she has believed all the false tales told her of the Irish girl. These silly tales, in spite of her belief in her own independence of thought, weigh upon her; and so she draws back from Mona, and speaks little to her, and then of only ordinary topics, while the poor child is pining for some woman to whom she can open her mind and whom she may count as an honest friend "For talking with a friend," says Addison, "is nothing else but thinking aloud.",

Then Mona says, in a trembling voice and rather disconnectedly, because of her emotion, "Be quite sure you shall be—buried—where all the other baronets of Rodney lie at rest.",

"Is truth insolence?" asks Rodney. "If so, I demand your pardon. My speech, no doubt, was a betise, yet it came from my heart."

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"Is that the fashion here? If—if you loved a man, would you be faithful to him forever?",

"One may choose to forget, but one may not be able to accomplish it. To forget or to remember is not in one's own power.",

"Have you ever read Shelley?" asks he, presently, puzzled by the extreme serenity of her manner.,

In the background partly hidden by the gathering gloom, some fifteen men, and one or two women, are all huddled together, whispering eagerly, with their faces almost touching. The women, though in a great minority, are plainly having the best of it.