“Through all that crowd!” exclaimed her lover, surprised.  “No, indeed; I would not allow any lady whom I knew to go unattended, and since it is known that I have been formally presented to Miss Richards, why should I not treat her with becoming politeness?”

Mona made no further objection, but quietly took his arm and allowed him to have his way.  She was proud and happy to know that Ray was noble-minded enough to have no fear of being seen publicly showing courtesy to a simple seamstress.

As they were passing through the drawing-room Mona caught sight of Mrs. Montague and Mr. Palmer sitting in an alcove by themselves.

Both glanced up, for the young couple were obliged to pass near them, and Mrs. Montague frowned as she saw her waiting-maid, for the second time that evening, upon the arm of Ray.

Mr. Palmer flushed and appeared somewhat embarrassed as he met his son’s eye, although he nodded and smiled in his usual genial way.

Reaching the main hall, Ray led Mona to the foot of the stairs, and held out his hand for a parting clasp.

“Good-night, my darling,” he said, bending over her and speaking in a low tone.  “Do you know that you are all the world to me, and I shall impatiently count the days until I can claim you—­three months hence at the farthest!  I must say good-by, too,” he added, “as we leave for New York early in the morning; but I shall try to see you again in a few days.”

Mona smiled, a delicate flush suffusing her face at his fond words; then, responding to his good-night, she went quickly up stairs and sought her room, firmly believing that she was the happiest person at Hazeldean, and that her lover was the noblest man in the world.

Louis Hamblin had seen the young couple leave the pavilion, and following them at a distance, had watched them with a jealous eye as they took leave of each other.

Another pair of eyes were also peering at them over the banister in the upper hall, and a beautiful face clouded over with anger and jealousy when Ray bent, with that earnest, luminous look, to whisper his parting in Mona’s ear.

They belonged to a brilliant society belle, Miss Josephine Holt, who had long entertained a secret affection for Ray.

She also knew Mona, having met her in society earlier in the season, and had been jealous of the young man’s attentions to her.

She wondered at finding her there at Hazeldean, for she knew of her loss of fortune.  She slipped out of sight into a dressing-room as Mona came up stairs, and, finding Miss Merrill there, asked her, in an indifferent tone, as Mona passed the door, who the young lady was.

“Oh, that is Ruth Richards—­Mrs. Montague’s waiting-maid,” was the reply.

A smile of scorn leaped to Miss Holt’s proud lips as she heard the name.

“Ruth Richards,” she repeated to herself.  “So this is how she disappeared so suddenly out of the knowledge of everybody.  A common waiting-maid, and too proud to sail under her own name!  I wonder if she is a relative of Mrs. Montague?  If she is, perhaps that lady objected to having it known, and so called her Ruth Richards.  Can it be possible that Ray Palmer is attentive to her now?  Does he know that she is sailing under false colors?  I think I will look into this state of affairs a little!”