She put them back, with the other things, into the secret drawer in the mirror, which she restored to its box, and then carefully packed it away in her trunk, with all her clothing except what she wished to put on in the morning.

“I shall go back to New York to-morrow,” she said, with firmly compressed lips, as the last thing was laid in its place.  “I cannot remain another day in the service of such a woman; and, since I have now learned everything, there is no need; I must go back to Ray and—­happiness.”

A tender smile wreathed her lips as she prepared to retire, but she could not sleep after she was in bed, even though she was weak and exhausted from the excitement of the last few hours, for her nerves throbbed and tingled with every beat of her pulses, and it was not until near morning that slumber came to her relief.

She was awake long before the gong for breakfast sounded, however, and rising immediately dressed herself for traveling, after which she finished packing, and then went down to breakfast with a grave, resolute face, which betrayed that she had some fixed purpose in her mind.

Mrs. Montague regarded her with some surprise as she noticed her dress, but she made no remark, although she looked troubled and anxious.

As soon as they arose from the table Mona went directly up stairs again, and waited at the door of Mrs. Montague’s parlor until that lady made her appearance.

Louis was with her, but Mona ignored his presence, and quietly asked: 

“Can I see you alone for a few moments, Mrs. Montague?”

“Certainly,” she replied, giving the girl a sharp, curious glance, and immediately preceded her into the room.  “Well?” she inquired, turning and facing her, the moment the door was closed, as if already she suspected what was coming.

“I simply wanted to tell you that I am going to return to New York to-day,” Mona said, in a tone which plainly indicated that no argument would serve to change her determination.

“Aren’t you somewhat premature in your movements?  What is your reason for wanting to go home in such a hurry?” Mrs. Montague demanded, with some asperity.

“There are a number of reasons.  I have some business to attend to, for one thing,” Mona answered.

Mrs. Montague appeared startled by this unlooked-for reply.  She had expected that she would complain of Louis’ persecution of the previous evening.

“Do you think it just fair, Ruth, to leave me at such short notice?” she inquired, after thinking a moment.

“I am very sorry if my going will annoy you,” Mona said, “but you will have Mr. Hamblin for an escort, and so you will not be left alone.  I have made up my mind to go, and I would like to leave at as early an hour as possible.”

Mrs. Montague saw that it would be useless to oppose her, but a look of cunning leaped into her eyes as she returned, with an assumption of graceful compliance: