“No, Will; I confess I am not,” she said, gravely.  “I knew Amos Palmer’s first wife, and she was a devoted, care-taking, conscientious woman, never sparing herself when she could add to the comfort and happiness of her family.  But this woman is entirely different—­she cares very little for anything but society.  I admit she is very delightful company—­a charming person to have in the house at such a time as this; but I doubt her ability to make Mr. Palmer happy, and I never would have believed that he could have had his head so thoroughly turned by any woman.  I thought he was bound up in making money, to leave to that handsome son of his.”

“Well, it appears that Cupid can make fools of the best of us,” Mr. Wellington returned, with a roguish glance at his wife; “and we do not discover the fact until the noose is irrevocably knotted about our necks.  By the way, speaking of accumulating money makes me remember that Palmer had a telegram to-day, telling him that the detective whom he employed on that affair of the diamonds thinks that he is on the track of the thief at last.”

“Is that so?” said Mrs. Wellington, with surprise.  “Do you imagine that he will ever recover the stones?”

“He may—­some of the larger ones, for they had been submitted to an expert; but I doubt if he ever sees many of them again,” her husband replied.

* * * * *

During these last two days Mona had been kept steadily employed in performing various duties for Mrs. Montague.

That lady’s costume for the ball was to be of great elegance and beauty.

The material was a rich garnet velvet, brocaded in white and gold, with point-lace garniture.

It had not been quite finished before they left New York, and Mona found no little difficulty in setting the many last stitches, for she had had but small experience in finishing garments of any kind, and Mrs. Montague was very particular.

It was quite late in the evening when she completed her task, and, with a sigh of relief, laid the beautiful costume upon the bed, ready for Mrs. Montague’s inspection when she should come up stairs for the night.

There was something of regret also mingled with her feeling that she, too, could not join the festivities on Monday evening.  She had dearly loved society during the little while she had mingled with it, and the pleasurable excitement of the last few days, which kept all the young ladies in a constant flutter, made her long to be one among them.

It was about half-past two when Mrs. Montague made her appearance, looking flushed and elated, for she had just parted from Mr. Palmer, who had begged her to attend service at the village church with him the next morning.  The request was so impressively expressed that she imagined her conquest was nearly complete, and she was therefore in high spirits.

She caught sight of her ball-dress immediately upon entering the room.