"With that pretty, modest girl, whom you had at Hazeldean with you?" he exclaimed, incredulously.

"Yes, with that pretty, modest girl," sneered Mrs. Montague. "These sly, quiet things are just the ones to entrap a young man like Louis, and there is poor Kitty McKenzie who will break her heart over the affair."

The wily widow's acting was very good, and Mr. Palmer sympathized with her, and used his best efforts to comfort her. But all that Mrs. Montague had cared to do was to set the ball rolling so that Ray might get it, and gradually led the conversation into a more interesting channel, and they discussed at length the subject of their own approaching union.

Mr. Palmer urged an early date, and after a little strategic hesitation, Mrs. Montague finally consented to make him happy, and the wedding was set for just one month from that day. This matter settled, the sedate lover took his leave, and his _fiancee_ with a triumphant look on her handsome face, went up stairs to look over her wardrobe to see what additions would be needed for the important event.

"Whether Louis succeeds in making the girl marry him or not, she will have been so compromised by this escapade that Ray Palmer will, of course, never think of making her his wife, and my purpose will be accomplished," she muttered, with an evil smile.

She did not give a thought to the wanderers after that, but went about the preparations for her approaching marriage with all the zeal and enthusiasm that might have been expected in a far younger bride-elect.

Mr. Palmer went home feeling a trifle anxious as to how Ray would receive the news that the day was set for making Mrs. Montague his wife.

To see that he dreaded revealing the fact expresses but little of what he felt, but he had never taken any important step of late years without consulting his son, and he did not feel at liberty to now ignore him upon a matter of such vital interest.

So, after tea that evening, when they sat down to read their papers, he thought the opportunity would be a favorable one to make his confession.

Ray seemed anxious and depressed, for he had not received his usual semi-weekly letter from Mona that day, and was wondering what could be the reason, when Mr. Palmer suddenly remarked:

"Mrs. Montague has returned."

"Ah!" said Ray, and instantly his face brightened, for his natural inference was that Mona had, of course, returned with Mrs. Montague, and that accounted for his having received no letter that day.

"Yes, she arrived this morning," said his father.

"She is well, I suppose?" Ray remarked, feeling that he must make some courteous inquiry regarding his stepmother-elect.

"Yes, physically; but that scapegrace of a nephew has been giving her considerable trouble," Mr. Palmer observed.

"Trouble?" repeated his son.

"Yes, he eloped with a girl from New Orleans. They went on board a steamer bound for Havana, registered as man and wife, and that is the last she has heard of him, while she was obliged to return to New York alone," explained Mr. Palmer, wondering how he was going to introduce the subject of his approaching marriage.

"Is that possible? Who was the girl?" exclaimed Ray, astonished and utterly unsuspicious of the blow awaiting his fond heart.

"Mrs. Montague's seamstress--Ruth Richards."

CHAPTER XVI.

MONA CALLS ON MRS. MONTAGUE.

Mr. Palmer's unexpected announcement fairly stunned Ray for a moment. His heart gave a startled bound, and then sank like a lump of lead in his bosom, while a deadly faintness oppressed him.

Indeed the blow was so sharp and sudden that it seemed to benumb him to such an extent that he made no outward sign--he appeared to be incapable of either speech or motion. His face was turned away from his father, and partially concealed by his newspaper, so that Mr. Palmer, fortunately, did not observe the ghastly pallor that overspread it, and not knowing that Ruth Richards was Mona Montague, he was wholly ignorant of the awful import of his communication.

"Ruth Richards?" Ray finally repeated, in a hollow tone, which, however, sounded to his father as if he did not remember who the girl was.

"Yes, that pretty girl that Mrs. Montague had with her at Hazeldean--the one to whom you showed some attention the night of the ball--surely you cannot have forgotten her. It seems," the gentleman went on, "that young Hamblin has been smitten with her ever since she entered his aunt's service, but she has opposed his preference from the first. He followed them South, and met them at New Orleans, and it seems that the elopement was arranged there. They were very clever about it, planning to leave on the Havana steamer on the very day set for their return to New York. Mrs.

Montague learned of it at almost the last moment, and that they had registered as Mr. and Mrs. Hamblin, although she did not ascertain that there had been any marriage beforehand, and, overcome by this unexpected calamity, she took the first express coming North."

It was well for Ray that his father made his explanation somewhat lengthy, for it gave him time to recover a little from the almost paralyzing shock which the dreadful announcement had caused.

He was as white as a ghost, and his face was covered with cold perspiration.

"This terrible thing cannot be true," he said to himself, with a sense of despair at his heart. "Mona false! the runaway wife of another! Never!"

Yet in spite of his instinctive faith in the girl he loved, he knew there must be some foundation for what had been told to his father. Mrs.

Montague had come home alone. Louis and Mona had been left behind!

What could it mean?

His heart felt as if it had been suddenly cleft in twain. He could not believe the dreadful story--he would not have it so--he would not submit to having his life and all his bright hopes ruined at one fell blow. And that, too, just as he had learned such good news for his darling--when he had been planning to give her, upon her return, the one thing which she had most desired above all others--the indisputable proof of her mother's honorable marriage; when it would also be proved that she was the heir to the property which Homer Forester had left, and could claim, if she chose, the greater portion of the fortune left by her father.

Ray had been very exultant over the finding of that certificate in Mrs.

Montague's boudoir, and had antic.i.p.ated much pleasure in beholding Mona's joy when he should tell her the glorious news.

But now--great heavens! what was he to think?

Then the suspicion came to him, with another great shock, and like a revelation, that it was all a plot; that Mrs. Montague had perhaps discovered Mona's ident.i.ty and possibly the loss of the certificate, which, she might think, had fallen into the young girl's hands. He had felt sure, from the quizzing to which Louis Hamblin had subjected him at Hazeldean, that that young man's suspicions had been aroused, and possibly this sudden flitting to the South had been but a plot, from beginning to end, to entrap Mona into a marriage with the young man in order to secure the wealth they feared to lose.

"When did Mrs. Montague leave New Orleans?" he inquired, when his father had concluded, while he struggled to speak in his natural tone.

"On Tuesday evening."

"And you say that the Havana steamer sailed that same day?"

"Yes."

"What was the name of the steamer?"

"I do not know. I did not ask," Mr. Palmer replied. He was thinking more about his own affairs than of the alleged elopement of the young people, or he must have wondered somewhat at his son's eager questions. "And, Ray," he added, as the young man suddenly laid down his paper and arose, "there is one other thing I wanted to mention--Mrs. Montague has consented to become Mrs. Palmer on the thirtieth of next month. I--I hope, my dear boy, that you will be prepared to receive her cordially."

"You know, father, that I would never willfully wound you in any way, and when Mrs. Montague comes as your wife, I shall certainly accord her all due respect."

Ray had worded his reply very cautiously, but he could not prevent himself from laying a slight emphasis upon the adverb, for he had resolved that if Mrs. Montague had been concerned in any way in a plot against Mona's honor or happiness, he would not spare her, nor any effort to prove it to his father, and thus prevent him, if possible, from ruining his own life by a union with such a false and unscrupulous woman.

"Thank you, Ray," Mr. Palmer replied, but not in a remarkably hopeful tone, and then remarking that he had a little matter of business to attend to, Ray went out.

Late as it was, he hastened to a cable office, hoping to be able to send a night dispatch to Havana, but he found the place closed, therefore he was obliged to retrace his steps, and wait until morning.

There was not much sleep or rest for him that night. His faith in Mona's truth and constancy had all returned, but he was terribly anxious about her, for the more he thought over what he had heard, the more he was convinced that she was the victim of some cunning plot that might make her very wretched, even if it failed to accomplish its object. He knew that she was very spirited, and would not be likely to submit to the wrong that had been perpetrated against her, and this of itself might serve to make her situation all the more perilous.

He was at the cable office by the time it was opened the next morning, and dispatched the following message to the American Consul in Havana:

"Couple, registered as Mr. and Mrs. Louis Hamblin, sailed from New Orleans for Havana, April 28th. Search for them in Havana hotels. Succor young lady, who is not Mrs. Hamblin. Answer."