at direction. Does she, Ruth,
suspect your folly?"

"Only to toss her head and turn the cold shoulder on me. She is in no way
responsible for my folly, as you call it, except by being so decidedly
pretty. You'd better give in, Aunt Marg--it'll be for your interest not
to make an enemy of me," he quoted, in a peculiar tone, "and it will make
a man of me, too, for I vow I love the girl to distraction."

Mrs. Montague uttered a sigh of despair.

"I was afraid you'd make a fool of yourself over her, and now I shall
have to send the girl away. It is too bad, for she is the only expert
seamstress I have had for a year," she said, tears of vexation actually
rushing to her eyes.

"No, you don't," the young man retorted, flaming up angrily; "don't you
dare to send her away, or I swear I will do something desperate. Besides,
the girl doesn't care a rap for me, but she is dead gone on young Palmer;
and if you drive her away, the next you'll know she will forestall you in
the Palmer mansion."

Mrs. Montague grew pale at this shaft, and sat for several moments
absorbed in thought.

"I thought that he was in love with Walter Dinsmore's _protegee_, Mona
Montague," she at last remarked, with a bitter inflection.

A peculiar smile flitted over Louis Hamblin's lips at this remark. But he
quickly repressed it, and replied:

"So I heard and thought at one time; but he was deeply smitten with Ruth
the night of the Hazeldean ball, and never left her side after
refreshments; they sat in the balcony, half concealed by the draperies,
until after one o'clock."

"You don't mean it!" Mrs. Montague exclaimed, with a start and frown.
"Then the girl is more artful than I thought; but, on the whole, I'm not
sure but that I should prefer to have Ray Palmer marry Ruth Richards
rather than Mona Montague--it might be better for me in the end. I wonder
where she is. I am almost sorry--"

She broke off suddenly, but added, after a moment:

"I don't know, Louis--I am somewhat perplexed. If, as you say, Ray Palmer
is so deeply smitten with Ruth he must have gotten over his penchant for
the other girl. I will think over your proposition, and tell you my
conclusion later."

An expression of triumph swept over Louis Hamblin's face, but quickly
assuming a grateful look, he remarked:

"Thank you, Aunt Margie--if you'll bring that about I'll be your loyal
slave for life."

Mrs. Montague's lips curled slightly at his extravagant language, but she