"Don't ask me to flatter you. You will get plenty to do that by and by," says Geoffrey, rather jealously, rather bitterly.
"'By and by' I shall be your wife," says Mona, archly, "and then my days for receiving flattery will be at an end. Sure you needn't grudge me a few pretty words now."
What a world is to be opened up to her! How severe the test to which she will be exposed! Does she really think the whole earth is peopled with beings pure and perfect as herself?
"Yes, that is true," he says, in a curious tone, in answer to her words, his eyes fixed moodily upon the ground. Then suddenly he lifts his head, and as his gaze meets hers some of the truth and sweetness that belong to her springs from her to him and restores him once again to his proper self.
He smiles, and, turning, kneels before her in mock humility that savors of very real homage. Taking her hand, he presses it to his lips.
"Will your majesty deign to confer some slight sign of favor upon a very devoted servant?"
His looks betray his wish. And Mona, stooping, very willingly bestows upon him one of the sweetest little kisses imaginable.
"I doubt your queen lacks dignity," she says, with a quick blush, when she has achieved her tender crime.
"My queen lacks nothing," says Geoffrey. Then, as he feels the rising wind that is soughing through the barren trees, he says, hurriedly, "My darling, you will catch cold. Put on your wraps again."
"Just in one moment," says the wilful beauty. "But I must first look at myself altogether. I have only seen myself in little bits up to this, my glass is so small."