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"Hist, Miss Mona! hist!" says this voice close at Mona's ear. She starts violently. "I am sure I should not," says Rodney. So runs on the kindly farmer, smitten to the heart that such things should be,—and done upon Rodney of all men. He walks round the young man, muttering his indignation in a low tone, while helping him with gentle care to remove his coat,—or at least what remains of that once goodly garment that had for parent Mr. Poole..
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"That? Oh, that was the bride, Mrs. Rodney," replies he. "She is lovely, if you like." "If that is all," says Geoffrey, with a light laugh, laying his hand over the small brown one that still rests upon his arm, "I think it need hardly separate us. You are, indeed, different from all the other women I have met in my life,—which makes me sorry for all the other women. You are dearer and sweeter in my eyes than any one I have ever known! Is not this enough? Mona, are you sure no other reason prevents your accepting me? Why do you hesitate?" He has grown a little pale in his turn, and is regarding her with intense and jealous earnestness. Why does she not answer him? Why does she keep her eyes—those honest telltales—so obstinately fixed upon the ground? Why does she show no smallest sign of yielding? Lone Feather wrapped his robe more closely around him and walked slowly from his lodge door and from the camp, off toward the north. He was thinking of many things, and hardly noticed where he was going. Presently as he walked, he heard the sound of persons talking. He stopped to listen. The sound came from a lodge made of stone, close by the river. Quietly he went toward the lodge and saw a thin blue line of smoke coming from the top. After that night the two women were never seen again..
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