She understands, indeed, that Sir Launcelot was a very naughty young man, who should not have been received in respectable houses,—especially as he had no money to speak of,—and that Sir Modred and Sir Gawain, had they lived in this critical age, would have been pronounced bad form and expelled from decent clubs. And, knowing this much, she takes it for granted that the stealing of a will or more would be quite in their line: hence her speech.  
"Dear Lady Rodney, no," cries the Æsthetic, rather losing faith in her hostess. "I mean about his resigning lands and heritage, position, title, everything—all that a man holds most dear, for a sentiment. And then it was so nice of him to shoot himself, and leave her all his money. Surely you must see that?"
 
She has actually forgotten to pose, and is leaning forward quite comfortably with her arms crossed on her knees. I am convinced she has not been so happy for years.
 
Lady Rodney is somewhat shocked, at this view of the case.
 
"You must understand," she says emphatically, "he did not shoot himself purposely. It was an accident,—a pure accident."
 
"Well, yes, so they say," returns her visitor, airily who is plainly not to be done out of a good thing, and insists on bringing in deliberate suicide as a fit ending to this tale. "And of course it is very nice of every one, and quite right too. But there is no doubt, I think, that he loved her. You will pardon me, Lady Rodney, but I am convinced he adored Mrs. Geoffrey."
 
"Well, he may have," admits Lady Rodney, reluctantly, who has grown strangely jealous of Mona's reputation of late. As she speaks she colors faintly. "I must beg you to believe," she says, "that Mona up............