After a little while, pausing beside a , she casts an upward glance at her companion.
"I am glad you have at last to take some small notice of me," says he, with a faint touch of in his tone. And then, looking at him again, she sees it is the young man who had nearly ridden over her some time ago, and tells herself she has been just a little rude to his Grace the Duke of Lauderdale.
 
"And I went to the utmost trouble to get an introduction," goes on Lauderdale, in an voice; "because I thought you might not care about that ceremony at the lodge-gate; and yet what do I receive for my pains but disappointment? Have you quite forgotten me?"
 
"No. Of course I remember you now," says Mona, taking all this nonsense as quite bona fide sense in a maddeningly fascinating fashion. "How unkind I have been! But I was listening to the music, not to our introduction, when Sir Nicholas brought you up to me, and—and that is my only excuse." Then, sweetly, "You love music?"
 
"Well, I do," says the duke. "But I say that perhaps as a means of defence. If I said otherwise, you might think me fit only 'for treasons, , and spoils.'"
 
"Oh, no! you don't look like that," says Mona, with a heavenly smile. "You do not seem like a man that could not be 'trusted.'"
 
He is delighted with her ready response, her gayety, her sweetness, her freshness; was there ever so fair a face? Every one in the room by this time is asking who is the duke's partner, and Lady Chetwoode is with . All the women, except a very few, are consumed with ; all the men are with envy of the duke. Beyond all doubt the pretty Irish bride is the rage of the hour.
 
She on gayly to the duke, losing sight of the fact of his rank, and laughing and making merry with him as though he were one of the ordinary friends of her life. And to Lauderdale, who is to beauty and tired of adulation, such manner has its charm, and he is perhaps losing his head a little, and is a sentence or two of a slightly tender nature, when another partner coming up claims Mona, and carries her away from what might prove dangerous quarters.
 
"Malcolm, who was that lovely creature you were talking to just now?" asks his mother, as Lauderdale draws near her.
 
"That? Oh, that was the bride, Mrs. Rodney," replies he. "She is lovely, if you like."
 
"Oh, indeed!" says the duchess, with some faint surprise. Then she turns to Lady Rodney, who is near her, and who is looking cold and . "I congratulate you," she says, warmly. "What a face that child has! How charming! How full of feeling! You are fortunate in securing so fair a daughter."
 
"Thank you," says Lady Rodney, coldly, letting her lids fall over her eyes.
&............