g on the
pillow-slips, until she could ascertain Mrs. Montague's wishes.

Mona was naturally quick in all her movements, and, being also very
persevering, she had accomplished considerable by ten o'clock, when
Mrs. Montague, in an elegant morning _negligee_ of light-blue cashmere,
and looking as lovely as an houri, strolled languidly into the
sewing-room to see what her new seamstress was about.

"Oh, you are sewing up the slips," she remarked, as she nodded in reply
to Mona's polite good morning and observed her employment. "I forgot to
tell you about the hems last night, and I have been afraid ever since I
awoke this morning that you would not make them broad enough."

"Yes, I feared I might make some mistake, so left them," Mona answered,
but without stopping her work.

"How beautiful your seams look!" the lady said, as she examined some of
the slips. "Your stitches are very fine and even; but over-and-over
sewing must be very monotonous work. You might vary it by hemming a sheet
now and then. I want the hems three inches wide on both ends."

"Do you have them stitched or done by hand?" Mona inquired.

"Oh, stitched; I have a beautifully running machine, and I want to get
them out of the way as soon as possible, for there is dressmaking to be
done. Can you run a White machine?"

Mona was conscious that her companion was regarding her very earnestly
during this conversation, but she appeared not to notice it, and replied:

"I never have, but if I could be shown how to thread it, I think I should
have no difficulty."

She was very thankful to know that all that mountain before her was not
to be done by hand.

"Do you like to sew?" Mrs. Montague inquired, as she watched the girl's
pretty hand in its deft manipulation of the needle.

Mona smiled sadly.

"I used to think I did," she said, after a moment's hesitation, "but when
one is obliged to do one thing continually it becomes monotonous and
irksome."

"How long have you been obliged to support yourself by sewing?" the
woman asked, curiously, for to her there seemed to be something very
incongruous in this beautiful high-bred girl drudging all day long
as a seamstress.

Mona flushed at the question.

There was nothing she dreaded so much as being questioned regarding her
past life.

"Not very long; death robbed me of friends and home, and so I was obliged
to earn my living," she returned, after considering a moment how she
should answer.

"Then y