The moment his father entered the house and met him, on his return from the evening service at the village, he realized that some great change had come over him; he was very different from the depressed, anxious-eyed son whom he had left only a few days previous.

He could hardly attribute it entirely to the news of the arrest of the supposed thief of the diamonds, and yet he could think of nothing else, for he firmly believed that Walter Dinsmore’s niece had left New York after her uncle’s death, and he had no reason to believe that Ray had found trace of her.

But whatever had caused the change—­whatever had served to bring back the old light to his eyes, the old smile to his lips, and all his former brightness and energy of manner, he was grateful for it, and he hailed the result with a delight that made itself manifest in the hearty grip of his hand and his eager-toned: 

“How are you, Ray, my boy?  I am glad to see you.”

CHAPTER XXI.

MONA AND RAY HAVE ANOTHER INTERVIEW.

Mona was very happy as she went up to her room after her interview with Ray that eventful Sunday evening, during the early part of which life had seemed darker than usual to her.

The man whom she loved was true, in spite of the doubt and sorrow she had experienced over his apparent neglect.  She had not after all built her hopes upon shifting sand; she had not reared an idol in her heart only to have to hurl it from its shrine as false and worthless.  Oh, no; her lover was a man to be reverenced—­to be proud of, and to be trusted under all circumstances.

She exulted in these facts almost as much as in the knowledge of his love for her, and she dropped to sleep with joy in her heart, smiles on her lips, and tears of gratitude flashing like diamonds on her long brown lashes.

The next morning she seemed almost like a new creature.  The world had suddenly acquired a wonderful brightness and beauty, and it was a delight even to exist.

It was no hardship to be a seamstress or even a waiting-maid, so long as she was blessed with Raymond Palmer’s love and with the prospect of becoming his wife in the near future.

Involuntarily a gay little song rippled from her lips while she was dressing, and the unusual sound catching Mrs. Montague’s ear caused a look of surprise to sweep over her face, for she had never heard Ruth Richards sing so much as a note before.

“The girl has a sweet, flexible voice.  I wonder if she is going to surprise me, every now and then, with some new accomplishment!  Maybe I have an embryo prima-donna in my employ!” she muttered, with a scornful smile.

Her surprise was not diminished when she saw the happy girl with her bright and animated manners and the new love-light shining on her face, making it almost dazzling in its intensified loveliness.

“What has come over you, Ruth?” Mrs. Montague inquired, regarding her curiously.  “One would almost imagine you were going to the ball yourself to-night, you appear to be so happy and elated.”