"I hope you had your hat on," says Lady Rodney, presently, in a severe tone, meant to cover the defeat. She had once seen Mona with the crimson silk handkerchief on her head,—Irish fashion,—and had expressed her disapproval of all such uncivilized headdresses.
"Yes; I wore my big Rubens hat, the one with——"
"I don't care to hear about the contents of your wardrobe," interrupts Lady Rodney, with a slight but unkind shrug. "I am glad, at least, you were not seen in that objectionable headdress you so often affect."
"Was it the Rubens hat with the long brown feather?" asks Violet, sweetly, turning to Mona, as though compelled by some unknown force to say anything that shall restore the girl to evenness of mind once more.
"Yes; the one with the brown feather," returns Mona, quickly, and with a smile radiant and grateful, that sinks into Violet's heart and rests there.
"You told the duke who you were?" breaks in Lady Rodney at this moment, who is in one of her worst moods.
"Yes; I said I was Mrs. Rodney."
"Mrs. Geoffrey Rodney, would have been more correct. You forget your husband is the youngest son. When Captain Rodney marries, his wife will be Mrs. Rodney."
"But surely until then Mona may lay claim to the title," says Violet, quickly.
"I do not wish to lay claim to anything," says Mona, throwing up her head with a little proud gesture,—"least of all to what does not by right belong to me. To be Mrs. Geoffrey is all I ask."