“That wouldn’t trouble me in the least, my boy, provided the girl herself was all right,” his father gravely returned.  “We have enough,” he continued, smiling, “without desiring to enrich ourselves by marrying money.  You shall choose your own wife, Ray, be she rich or poor, plain or beautiful; only find a sensible little woman who will be a true wife and make you happy, and I shall be more than satisfied.”

“Thank you, father,” Ray gratefully returned.  “I wish there were more men like yourself in the world—­there would surely be fewer ill-assorted marriages if there were.  Only let me find Mona, and I will soon convince you that she will be a girl after your own heart, as well as mine.”

CHAPTER XIII.

AT THE RECEPTION.

One evening, after Ray’s entire restoration to health, he and his father attended a reception given by an old friend of Mr. Palmer’s.

It was an unusually brilliant affair, for the Merrills were wealthy people, and very socially inclined, and many of the best people of New York were present.

Mr. Palmer was conversing with his host in a quiet way during a few moments while he was at liberty, when his attention was attracted by the entrance of a new arrival, whose advent seemed to create an unusual flutter of interest.

“Who is she?” he inquired, as the lady slowly approached them, smiling, bowing, and responding to the eager greetings on every hand.  “She is a magnificent-looking woman.”

“She is Mrs. Montague—­a wealthy widow, and a great favorite in society,” his friend replied, while his own eyes rested admiringly upon the lady.

“Montague!  Montague!” Mr. Palmer repeated reflectively, while he said to himself:  “That is the name of Ray’s little lady-love; perhaps this woman is a relative, and the girl has gone to live with her.  I must find out about that.”  Then, with this thought in view, he added, aloud; “Introduce me, will you, Merrill?”

His host glanced roguishly at him, and a smile of amusement hovered about his lips as he replied: 

“Certainly, if you wish, but I give you fair warning that she is a dangerous party, and especially so to widowers—­there are a dozen, more or less, who have already had their wings thoroughly singed.”

Mr. Palmer smiled with an air of calm superiority.

“Well, Merrill, I admit that she is as fine-looking a woman as I have ever seen,” he said, “but I believe that I am proof against the blandishments of the fair sex upon principle; for,” more gravely, “I have never had any desire to change my condition since I lost my wife.  My reason for requesting the introduction was, I thought Mrs. Montague might be able to give me some information regarding another lady of the same name.”

“All right; an introduction you shall have; but pray take heed to my warning, all the same, and look out for yourself,” was the laughing rejoinder.  “Ah,” as he bowed graciously to the lady approaching them, “we are very glad to be favored with your presence this evening, and now allow me to present a friend; Mrs. Montague, Mr. Palmer.”