Mona was very glad to adopt this plan, and wandering slowly along beneath the shadows of the heavy pines, the lovers soon forgot that there was any one else in the world except themselves.

They talked over more fully the incidents of the weeks of their separation, but Ray dwelt a good deal upon the story of the stolen diamonds, and Mona could not fail to observe that he was very much troubled about the affair.

“It is a great loss,” he remarked, with a sigh, “and though I cannot feel that I am culpably blamable, yet I do not cease to reproach myself for having been so thoroughly fooled by that woman.  If I had only retained my hold upon the package, she never could have got it.”

“But you may recover the diamonds, even now,” Mona remarked.  “You say that the detective arrested a woman on Friday evening as the suspected party.”

“Yes, he suspects her in connection with another case, which he has been at work upon for over three years,” and Ray related the story of the stolen crescents, then continued:  “At the Delmonico ball he saw this Mrs. Vanderheck with them in her ears, and a cross like one that we lost, so he arrested her upon suspicion of both robberies, but somehow I am not very sanguine that we shall recover the stones.”

“Did you not see the cross?” Mona asked.

“No; Mr. Rider had deposited it somewhere for safe keeping.  It will be produced at the examination to-morrow.  But, really, Mona,” Ray interposed, with a nervous laugh, “I feel worse over the fact of having been so taken in by this pretended Mrs. Vanderbeck, than over the pecuniary loss.”

The poor fellow felt very much as Justin Cutler felt when he learned how he had been tricked into paying a large price for the pair of paste crescents.

“How did the woman look, Ray?  Describe her to me,” Mona said.

She experienced a strange fascination in the story with all its curious details.

Ray gave a vivid word-picture of the beautiful woman, her dress, her carriage, and even her driver, for everything connected with that unexampled experience was indelibly stamped upon his mind.

“You say her dress was badly torn,” Mona musingly observed, when he had concluded the account of the discovery, and what had followed their getting out of the carriage and entering Doctor Wesselhoff’s office.

“Yes, there was quite a rent in it, and I imagine this circumstance was not premeditated in the plan of her campaign, for she certainly was annoyed to have the beautiful cloth torn, although she tried to make light of it,” Ray replied, then added:  “And later in the day I found a piece of the goods adhering to my clothing.”

“Did you?” questioned Mona, eagerly.

“Yes, and if I should ever see that dress again I could easily identify it, for I have the piece now and could fit it into the rent.  But doubtless my lady has disposed of that costume long before this.  Here is the piece, though—­I have kept it, thinking it might possibly be of use some time.”