“Well, it is certain that Mrs. Vanderheck, of New York, who figures so conspicuously in society, has an enormous store of diamonds, however she came by them,” Louis Hamblin remarked.

Then, having reached the house, Ray bade him a brief good-night, and went immediately up to his room.

He found his father there before him and walking up and down the floor in an unusually thoughtful mood.

“Ah, Ray!” he said, as his son entered, “I have been waiting for you.  I want to have a little talk with you before we go to bed.”

“About the examination of to-morrow?” Ray inquired, with a keen glance.

“No—­about—­Ray, how would you like it if I should—­well, to out with it at once—­if I should marry again?” and the embarrassed old gentleman grew crimson even to the bald spot upon his head, as he then blundered through his question.

Ray sat down before he allowed himself to reply.

Now that the crisis had really come, he found he had less strength to meet it than he had anticipated.

“Well, father,” he gravely said, after a moment of thought, “if you think that a second marriage is essential to your comfort and happiness, I should not presume to oppose it.”

Mr. Palmer bent an anxious look upon his son.

“And yet you do not exactly approve of the plan?” he observed.

Ray looked up and frankly met his father’s eye.

He believed it would be better to speak his mind freely than to dissemble in any way.

“I cannot fail to understand your meaning, for, of course, I have not been blind of late,” he remarked.  “I have seen how agreeable the society of Mrs. Montague is to you, and, judging from appearances, yours is no less so to her.  I am bound to confess that she is a very handsome woman and very charming also in company.  Still it is plain to be seen that she is a thorough society woman, and the question in my mind is, would you, with your more quiet tastes and disposition, enjoy sharing the kind of life that she leads?”

“But—­I think—­I hope that she would enjoy quiet home life and—­my companionship, more than society, after our marriage,” Mr. Palmer remarked, with some confusion.

Ray smiled slightly, for he saw that his father was very far gone, and he doubted if any argument would convince him that the fascinating widow would not be satisfied to settle down to the quieter joys of domestic life, even after she had succeeded in capturing the wealthy diamond merchant.

Still he resolved that he would say all that he had to say now, and then leave the matter with him to decide as his heart and judgment dictated.

“I hope that you will not deceive yourself, father,” he said.  “Mrs. Montague’s nature is one that craves excitement and admiration, and she has been so long accustomed to this kind of life I imagine it would be impossible for her to resign it, cheerfully, for any one.  Of course I know but very little of her personally, and I do not wish to judge her unfairly; but I should be very sorry to have you take any step which you would be likely to hereafter regret.”