Mr. Hamblin did change his tactics.

The next morning, when Mona went into the sewing-room, she found a tiny vase filled with choice flowers upon her table.

She suspected that Mr. Hamblin might have been the donor, and she was annoyed that he should presume to take such a liberty upon so slight an acquaintance.  Still, she was not sure that he had put them there, and the pretty things made a bright spot in the room, while their fragrance was not without its charm for her; so she did enjoy them in a measure.

“Where did you get your flowers, Ruth?” Mrs. Montague inquired, when she came in later to inquire regarding a wrap that was being mended, and espied them.

“My flowers!” Mona said, determined that she would not claim them; “they are not mine, and I do not know who put them here.  I found them on the table when I came down this morning.”

Mrs. Montague frowned, but said nothing more.

She suspected who had made the floral offering, however, and secretly resolved that Louis should not be guilty of continuing such attentions to her seamstress.

She gave orders to Mary to go into the sewing-room every morning before breakfast, and if she found flowers there to take them down to the dining-room and put them upon the table.

The girl found a bouquet on Mona’s table three mornings in succession.

She carried out her mistress’ instructions to the letter, and Mr. Louis Hamblin, observing the disposition of his expensive gifts, imagined that the pretty seamstress herself had taken this way to reject them.

The measure angered him, and only made him more resolute to conquer Mona’s indifference and pride.

“By Jove!” he said to himself, as he gazed frowningly upon the discarded blossoms, “I believe I am really becoming interested in the proud little beauty, and I must find some other way to bring her around.  It is evident that she recognizes the social distance between us, and wishes me to understand it.  Perhaps, however, with a little judicious coaxing of a different character, I may win her to a more friendly mood.”

He waylaid Mona several times after that, while she was out walking, but, though she never forgot to conduct herself in the most lady-like manner she plainly indicated by her coldness and reserve that she did not care to cultivate Mr. Hamblin’s acquaintance.

This opposition to his wishes only made him the more persistent, and added zest to his pursuit of her.

The girl’s exquisite beauty and grace—­her high-bred self-possession and polished manner—­impressed him as he had never been impressed before, even by the society girls whom he was in the habit of meeting, and Kitty McKenzie’s charms grew pale and dim beside the brighter and more perfect loveliness of this dainty sewing-girl.

When Mona found that the young man persisted in following her and forcing his society upon her, she changed the time of her daily walk to an hour when she knew he would be down town, and she also took care to go in different directions, thus successfully avoiding him for some time.