At half-past six they left the hotel, and drove to the pier where the steamboat lay.

Louis hurried the ladies on board, and to their staterooms, telling them to make haste and get settled, as dinner would be served as soon as the boat left the landing.

He had secured three staterooms for their use, another circumstance which appeared strange to Mona, as she and Mrs. Montague had occupied one together in coming down the river.

“Perhaps,” she said to herself, “she is angry because I insisted upon going home, and does not wish to have me with her.  I believe, however, I shall like it best by myself.”

She arranged everything to her satisfaction, and then sat down by her window to wait until the gong should sound for dinner, but a strange feeling of depression and of homesickness seemed to settle over her spirits, while her thoughts turned with wistful fondness to her lover so far away in New York, and she half regretted that she had not insisted upon returning by rail.

She wondered that she did not hear Mrs. Montague moving about in her stateroom, but concluded that she had completed, her arrangements for the night and gone on deck.

Presently the last signal was given, and the steamer swung slowly away from the levee.  A few moments later the gong sounded for dinner, and Mona went out into the saloon to look for her companions.

She met Louis Hamblin at the door leading to the dining-saloon, but he was alone.

“Where is Mrs. Montague?” Mona inquired, and wondering if he was going to be sick, for he looked pale, and seemed ill at ease.

“Hasn’t she been with you?” he asked, appearing surprised at her question.  “I thought she was in her stateroom.”

“No, I did not hear her moving about,” Mona replied, “so supposed she had come out.”

“Perhaps she is on deck; if you will wait here I will run up to look for her,” Louis remarked, and Mona sat down as he walked away.

He presently returned, but alone.

“She is not up stairs,” he said; “I will go to her stateroom; perhaps she has been lying down; she said she had a headache this afternoon.”

Again he left Mona, but came back to her in a few minutes, saying: 

“Yes, it is as I thought; she isn’t feeling well, and doesn’t care to go down to dinner.  I am to send her a cup of tea, and then she will retire for the night.  Shall we go down now?  You must be hungry,” he concluded, smiling.

Mona would have much preferred to go by herself, and have him do the same, but she did not wish to have any words with him about it, so quietly followed him to the table, and took her seat beside him.

He was very polite and attentive, supplying all her wants in a thoughtful but unobtrusive way, and did not once by word or look remind her of anything disagreeable.

The dinner was a lengthy affair, and it was after eight when they left the dining-saloon, when Mona at once retreated to her stateroom to rid herself of Louis Hamblin’s companionship.  On her way thither she rapped upon Mrs. Montague’s door, and asked: