“Aha!” he repeated, in a tone of triumph, but with a frown upon his brow; “that explains why my suit was so disdained this morning!  So you know and—­love Mr. Raymond Palmer!  My pretty Ruth, pray tell me how this young Apollo managed to inspire the princess of sewing-girls with such tender sentiments, that I may profit by his successful method.”

“Let me pass!” Mona commanded, as, straight as a young palm, she confronted the insolent fellow with blazing cheeks and flashing eyes.

“It makes you wonderfully pretty to get angry,” he returned, with a gleeful chuckle; “but I am not going to let you pass until you tell me when and where you made young Palmer’s acquaintance,” and he continued to stand directly in her path.

“Do you imagine that you can compel me to say anything?” Mona burst forth, with stinging contempt, her patience all gone.  “Let this be the last time that you ever waylay or persecute me with your attentions, for, I give you fair warning, a repetition of such conduct on your part will send me straight to Mrs. Montague with a full report of it.”

The young man looked decidedly crestfallen at this spirited threat.

There was but one person in the world of whom he stood in awe, and that was his aunt, Margaret Montague.

He well knew that it would not be for his interest to offend her, and, of all things, he would dread most a revelation of what had occurred in the library that morning, notwithstanding he had affirmed to Mona that he was willing to proclaim his affection before her and the whole world.

Besides, if it should come to the ears of Kitty McKenzie, his prospects of a marriage with that pretty and wealthy young lady would be blighted, and no end of trouble would follow, for Mrs. Montague had determined to effect a union between them, and if he should go contrary to her wishes, she could make it very uncomfortable for him pecuniarily.

Still, he was deeply smitten with the beautiful young seamstress, and was rapidly becoming more so every time he met her.

He had promised himself the pleasure of a secret flirtation with her, while at the same time he intended to continue his attentions to Miss McKenzie in public, and he did not like to be balked in his purpose.

He saw that he could never intimidate her into any concessions; she was far too high-spirited and straightforward; so he must adopt other measures if he would win.

“Certainly you shall pass, if you wish,” he said, respectfully, as he stepped aside; “but please do not be quite so unkind; and, by the way, can you tell me what the old codger down below meant by his son being upset about the diamonds?”

He knew well enough, for of course he had seen the accounts of the affair in the papers; but he had an object in wishing to find out how much Mona knew.

“No, I cannot,” she coldly replied, as, with uplifted head and haughty bearing, she passed him and entered Mrs. Montague’s room.