Then she grew very pale with a sudden suspicion.  Perhaps Mrs. Montague had discovered who she was, possibly Mr. Corbin had been to her to question her, and had aroused her suspicions that she was Mona Montague, and she was plotting to marry her to her nephew in order to keep her fortune in the family, and thus tie Mona’s hands to render her incapable of mischief.

These thoughts inspired her with fresh hope and courage, for she told herself that if this was the woman’s object, there must be some proofs in existence that her mother’s marriage with Richmond Montague had been legal.

But Mrs. Montague was waiting for some answer, and she could not stop to consider these points very fully now.

“I thank you,” she said, trying hard to curb the scorn that was surging fiercely within her, “but I shall be obliged to decline a union with Mr. Hamblin—­I could never become his wife.”

“Why not, pray?” sharply demanded her companion.

“Because I believe that marriage should never be contracted without mutual love, and I do not love Mr. Hamblin,” Mona returned, with cold positiveness.

“Really?” Mrs. Montague sneered, with a frowning brow, “one would suppose that a person in your position—­a poor seamstress—­would be only too glad to marry a handsome young man with Louis’ prospects—­for he will eventually inherit my fortune if he out-lives me.”

“Then, perhaps, it will be a surprise to you to learn that there is one poor seamstress in the world who does not regard marriage with a rich young man as the most desirable end to be achieved in life,” Mona responded, with quiet sarcasm.

Mrs. Montague grew crimson with anger.

“Then you would not marry my nephew if he should offer himself to you?” she indignantly inquired.

“No, madame; I could not.  With all due appreciation of the honor intended me, I should be obliged to decline it.”

The girl spoke with the utmost respect and courtesy, yet there was a slight inflection upon certain words which irritated Mrs. Montague almost beyond endurance.

“Perhaps you are already in love with some one else—­perhaps you imagine that you may win young Palmer, upon whom you so indelicately forced your society at Hazeldean,” she snapped.

Mona could not quite conceal all emotion at this unexpected attack, and a lovely color stole into her cheeks, at which the watchful woman opposite her was quick to draw her own conclusions, even though the fair girl made no reply to her rude speech.

“Let me disabuse your mind at once of any such hopes and aspirations,” Mrs. Montague continued, with increased asperity, “for they will never be realized, since Ray Palmer is already engaged.”

This statement was made upon the strength of what she had learned from Mr. Palmer regarding Ray’s affection for Mr. Dinsmore’s niece, and his own approval of the union if the young lady could be found.