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"How paltry this country must appear in comparison with your own!" goes on the girl, longing for a contradiction, and staring at her little brown hands, the fingers of which are twining and intertwining nervously with one another, "How glad you will be to get back to your own home!" Beauty, according to Ovid, is "a favor bestowed by the gods;" Theophrastus says it is "a silent cheat;" and Shakspeare tells us it Her coming is a thunderbolt, her speech lightning. Lady Rodney changes color, and is for once utterly disconcerted..
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"Ah! then I did not know all," says Mona. "That was your fault. No; if I consent to do you this injury you shall at least have time to think it over." "No,—no aunt," returns Rodney, speaking the solemn truth, yet conveying a lie: "I have not been blessed with maiden aunts wallowing in coin." There is no grate, and the fire, which has plainly made up its mind not to light, is composed of Yule-logs. The floor is shining with sand, rushes having palled on Lady Lilias. She has shaken hands with everybody, and has kissed Lady Rodney, and is now being introduced to Mona..
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