Mona read her letters once more in her own room, and then another thought asserted itself unexpectedly.
"I wish with all my heart that I could have shown him the sketch-book, and made a clean breast of it," she said to her trusty friend in the glass; "and yet"—her attitude changed—"why should he stand on a different footing from everybody else?"
The face in the glass looked back defiantly, and did not seem prepared with any answer.
CHAPTER XX.
ST RULES.
When Mona appeared at the breakfast-table next morning, Rachel regarded her with critical dissatisfaction.
"I wonder you don't get tired of that dress," she said, as she poured out the tea—from the brown teapot. "It's very nice of course, and as good as new, but changes are lightsome, and one would think you would sometimes prefer to wear something more youthful-like. Pity your print's at the wash."
Mona looked out of the window.
"I have another," she said, "if you think it won't rain."
"Oh no. And besides, you can take your waterproof."