Later in the evening she ran across him again by accident(?), and another half-hour spent in her society completed the glamour which she had thrown around him at supper, and, in spite of his assertion to the contrary, it really seemed as if Raymond Palmer was likely to help swell the “list of fools” who blindly worshiped at her shrine.

CHAPTER XIV.

LOUIS HAMBLIN IS INTERESTED IN MONA.

Mrs. Richmond Montague had a purpose in honoring Mr. Palmer and his handsome son with so much of her society on the evening of Mr. Merrill’s reception.

When Mr. Palmer had mentioned the name of Mona Montague, inquiring if she was a relative of the young girl, a sudden shock had thrilled through her nerves, for it was a name which, for certain reasons, with her whole heart, she had hated, although, as she believed, she had never seen the young lady.

Before the evening was over, however, she had learned why the diamond merchant was so anxious to find the ex-heiress of Walter Dinsmore.

She discovered, by adroit references and questions, by putting this and that together, that Ray Palmer was in love with the girl; that the old gentleman favored his suit in spite of her poverty, and would willingly have sanctioned an immediate marriage if she could have been found.

“So much for this evening, and now I wish that I could find the girl,” she mused, as she stood before her mirror and removed her ornaments, after returning from the reception.  “So she is beautiful!  I wonder if she looks like her mother—­my hated rival!  Ah!  Mona Montague, I vowed that I would have vengeance, and I had it.  You dared to come between me and the man I loved, and I swore I would crush you—­I did, and now I mean to crush your child also, if I can find her.  True, I won your husband after you were dead and gone, but he never loved me as he loved you, in spite of my blind idolatry for him.”

She had become greatly excited over these reflections, and, sweeping into a heap the laces and jewels which she had removed from her person, she began pacing the floor with swift, angry steps.

“I wish now,” she began again, after a time, “that I had gone to Walter Dinsmore’s funeral, if for nothing more than to get a glimpse of the girl; but he bore me no good-will, and somehow I could not make up my mind to enter his house.  I am sorry I didn’t, for then I should have known this pretty little lady-love of Mr. Ray Palmer, if ever I met her again.  Now I may have a long hunt for her.  It was a great oversight on my part; but I never thought of her disappearing in such a mysterious way.”

After a while she removed her rich evening costume, then donning a warm flannel wrapper, she seated herself before the glowing grate, clasped her hands around her knees, and, gazing upon the bed of red-hot coals, she fell to musing.