and in the excitement of
society, while Mr. Palmer was more quiet and domestic in his tastes.

Besides, he had somehow became imbued with the idea that she was lacking
in principle. Perhaps what Mona had told him about her, in connection
with her mother's history, might have given him this impression; but,
whatever had caused it, he shrank with the greatest repugnance from
having her become the wife of his father.

Still he felt helpless to prevent it; he experienced great delicacy about
making any objections if his father should intimate a wish to change his
condition, and he could readily see that by so doing he would not only
deeply wound him, but be likely to make an enemy of Mrs. Montague.

So these were the things he wished to think over by himself, and that
sent him out into the grounds after he had left Mona.

The night was a beautiful one. There was not a cloud in the sky, and the
full moon was sailing in matchless majesty through the star-studded vault
above, while the brilliantly lighted house and park, with the entrancing
music from the pavilion floating out to him on the still air, added their
charm to the scene.

Ray lighted his cigar and strolled down the avenue, his heart filled with
conflicting emotions. He was very happy in his new relations with Mona,
yet strangely uneasy and depressed regarding his father's prospects.

There was a line of great Norway spruce trees along one side of the
avenue, not far from the main road, and as Ray, deeply absorbed in his
own thoughts, was passing these, a figure suddenly stepped out from
among them and accosted him.

It was Louis Hamblin.

"Ah, Palmer," he said, affably, "out for a smoke? Give me a light, will
you?"

"Certainly," Ray responded, cordially, and politely extended his cigar to
him.

The man made use of it, then returned it, with thanks, remarking, as he
turned to walk along with him:

"Glorious night, this!"

"Indeed it is--we seldom have so perfect an evening," Ray heartily
responded.

"Quite a blow-out, too," added Mr. Hamblin, who was somewhat given to
slang. "Wellington is a generous old codger, and has done things up in
fine style."

"Yes, I should say the ball has been a great success, at least everybody
has appeared to enjoy it," Ray politely replied.

He was not very well pleased with the young man's enforced companionship;
he would have much preferred to be left to his own reflections.

"That is so, and there were lots of