ed might yet serve to give me the position I so
coveted. I persuaded Miss Dinsmore that it would be wise to let me follow
Walter to Europe, and I promised her that if such a thing were possible,
I would return as his wife. Six weeks after he sailed with his bride, I
also left for Europe with some friends. I kept track of the unsuspicious
couple for four months, but it was not until they settled in Paris for
the winter that I had an opportunity to put any of my plans into action."

"If you please, Mrs. Montague, I would rather you would not tell me any
more," Mona here interrupted, with a shiver of repulsion. "My father
wrote out the whole story, and so I know all about it. You accomplished
your purpose and wrecked the life of a pure and beautiful woman--a loved
and loving wife; but truly I believe if my mother could speak to-day
she would say that she would far rather have suffered the wrong and
wretchedness to which she was subjected than to have exchanged places
with you."

"Do you dare to twit me of my present extremity and misery?" cried Mrs.
Montague, angrily.

"Not at all; I was not thinking of these later wrongs of which you have
been guilty," Mona gently returned, "but only of the ruin which you
wrought in the lives of my father and mother. I cannot think that you
were happy even after you had succeeded in your wretched plots."

"Happy!" repeated the woman, with great bitterness. "For two years I was
the most miserable creature on earth. I will tell it, and you shall
listen; you shall hear my side of the story," she went on, fiercely,
as she noticed that Mona was restless under the recital. "As I said
before, when they settled in Paris for the winter I began to develop my
plans. I went to a skillful costumer, and provided myself with a complete
disguise, then hired a room in the same house, although I took care to
keep out of the sight of Walter Dinsmore and his wife. One day he went
out of the city on a hunting excursion, and met with an accident--he fell
and sprained his ankle, and lay in the forest for hours in great pain. He
was finally found by some peasants who bore him to their cottage, and
kindly cared for him. His first thought was, of course, for his wife, and
he sent a messenger with a letter to her telling of his injury. I saw the
man when he rode to the door. I instinctively knew there was ill news. I
said I knew Mrs. Montague, and I would deliver the letter. I opened and
read it, and saw that my