ve me from all willful neglect," Ray said, as he led her to a
_tete-a-tete_ and seated himself beside her. "But first tell me," he
added, "how I happen to find you here. Are you one of the guests?"
"No," Mona said, blushing slightly, "You know, of course, that I lost
home and everything else when I lost Uncle Walter, and now I am simply
acting as seamstress and waiting maid to a Mrs. Montague, who is a guest
here."
"Ah!" exclaimed the young man, with a start, as he remembered how Mrs.
Montague had denied all knowledge of Mona. "I have met the lady--is she
a relative of yours?"
"No; at least, I never saw her until I entered her house to serve her."
"My poor child! to think that you should have to go out to do such work,"
said Ray, with tender regret. "But of course, as you say, I can
understand all about it, for that, too, was in the papers; but it was
very heartless, very cruel in that Mrs. Dinsmore not to make you any
allowance, when she could not fail to know that your uncle wished you to
inherit his property. She must be a very obnoxious sort of person, isn't
she?"
"I do not know," said Mona, with a sigh; "I have never seen her--at
least, not since I was a child, and too young to remember anything about
her."
"Do you mean that you did not meet her during the contest for Mr.
Dinsmore's fortune?" questioned Ray in surprise.
"No, she did not appear at all personally; all her business was
transacted through her lawyer, as mine was through Mr. Graves," Mona
answered.
"Well, it was an inhuman thing for her to do, to take everything and
leave you penniless, and obliged to earn your own living. But that is all
over now," the young man said, looking fondly into the fair face beside
him. "Isn't it, darling? You have told me that you love me, but you have
not yet promised me anything. You are going to be my wife, are you not,
Mona?"
"I hope so--if you wish--some time," she answered, naively, yet with
crimson cheeks and downcast eyes.
He laughed out gladly as he again embraced her.
"'Some time, if I wish,'" he repeated. "Well, I do wish, and the some
time must be very soon, too. Ah, my sweet, brown-eyed girlie! how happy
I am at this moment! I did not dream that I was to find such a wealth of
joy when I came hither at my father's earnest request. I was grieving so
for you I had no heart for the gayeties which I knew I should find here;
now, however, I shall not find it difficult to be as gay as any one.
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