ng her father's troubles and past life become the
subject of a public scandal.

Ray noticed it, and telegraphed her a gleam of hope from his tender eyes.

The proposition which he had made to the lawyers upon leaving the room
was in accordance with his father's request.

Mr. Palmer had begged that all proceedings in the case of the robbery
might be quashed.

"I would rather lose three times the amount that woman stole from us than
to have all New York know the wretched truth," he said to Ray, after
calling him from the drawing-room. "To have it known that she robbed us
and then tried to fortify herself by a marriage with me! I could not bear
it. I have made a fool of myself, Ray," he went on, with pitiable
humility, "but I don't want everybody discussing the mortifying details
of the affair. If you can prevail upon the lawyers to settle everything
quietly, do so, and, of course, Rider being a private detective, and in
our pay, will do as we say, and, my boy, you and I will ignore the
subject, after this, for all time."

Ray grasped his father's hand in heartfelt sympathy as he replied:

"We will manage to hush the matter, never fear. I am very sure that Mona
will also desire to do so, and though I should be glad to have that woman
reap the full reward of her wickedness I can forego that satisfaction for
the sake of saving her feelings and yours."

Then, as we know, he returned to the drawing-room where Mona called to
him to come and plead for the same thing.

The lawyers were both willing, for Mona's sake, to refrain from active
proceedings against Mrs. Montague if she would resign all Mr. Dinsmore's
property; but Mr. Rider objected very emphatically to this plan.

"It has been a tough case," he said, somewhat obstinately, "and it is no
more than fair that a man should have the glory of working it up. Money
isn't everything to a person in such business--reputation is worth
considerable."

They had quite a spirited argument with him; but he yielded the point at
last, provided Mr. Cutler would consent, although not with a very good
grace, and then they all went back to Mona and her unhappy companion.

But Mrs. Montague put a grave front upon her critical situation.

"Well, and have you decided the fate of your prisoner?" she inquired of
Mr. Rider, with haughty audacity, although her face was as white as her
handkerchief as she put the question.

"Well, madame," he retorted, with scant ceremony, "if it had be