me with scorn, as you did that day at Hazeldean, for I offer you a warm and loyal heart.  I know, that I am not worthy of you,” he went on, flushing and speaking humbly for once, for he was terribly in earnest; “I have been guilty of a great many things which I have learned to regret, since I have known you; but I can conquer everything if you will give me your love as an incentive, and I will be a better man in the future.  I will even work for you, if you so despise the fortune which your father left and which I have expected to inherit from my aunt.  Oh, Mona, do not despise my love for you, for it is the purest attribute of my nature, and—­”

“Pray cease,” Mona here interposed, for she felt unable to hear any more of this passionate avowal, while she was greatly surprised and really moved by the depth of feeling which he evinced.  “I would be the last one,” she continued, in kind, grave tones, but with averted eyes and trembling lips, “to despise the true affection of any man.  If I said anything to wound you that day at Hazeldean, I regret it now, although I felt at the time that you showed some disrespect in your manner of approaching me.  But I cannot be your wife; if you make that the condition”—­and her lips curled a trifle here—­“of my learning the mystery regarding my father’s desertion of my mother, and securing the proof of their marriage; then I must forever relinquish all such hopes, for I could never marry a man—­”

“But,” he interrupted, excitedly.

“Let me finish,” she persisted, lifting her hand to stay his words.  “No woman should ever become the wife of a man she cannot love.  I do not love you, Mr. Hamblin, and knowing this, you would not respect me if I should yield to your suit.  Let me assure you that I honor you for some things you said to-day—­that you would be willing to work for one whom you loved; that you would even relinquish a fortune for her sake.  Believe me, I respect you and appreciate such an avowal, and only regret that your regard could not have been bestowed upon some one who could return such devotion.  I cannot, but, Mr. Hamblin, I feel more friendly toward you at this moment than I have ever felt before.  I beg, however,” she concluded, sadly, “that you will never address me thus again, for it gives me pain to know that any one’s life should be marred through me; put this affection away from you—­crush it in your heart, and seek some dear, good girl who will love you and make you happier than I possibly could, if I should yield to your suit without any heart to give you.”

“Put this love out of my heart! crush it!” burst forth the young man, with pale lips.  “Could you do that, Mona Montague, if the man you loved should stand coldly up before you and bid you to do so?”

Mona flushed, and hot tears sprang into her eyes.  She knew, but too well, that she could never crush out of her heart her love for Raymond Palmer.

If Louis Hamblin had bestowed but a tithe of such affection upon her there was indeed a sad future in store for him, and the deepest sympathies of her nature were aroused for him.