True Love's Reward Part 11

Ray did not arrive until late, for he had little heart for the gay scene, and less sympathy in its object. But for his respect and love for his father, he would not have set foot in the house at all.

"Gentlemen's dressing-room on the left of the hall above," said the polite colored man, who attended the door, and Ray slowly mounted the stairs, hoping that he might catch a glimpse, if not secure an opportunity for a word with Mona.

But there was no such treat in store for him, for she was at that moment a.s.sisting Mary, who had met with a mishap in running up stairs, having stepped upon her dress and torn it badly.

Ray found the room indicated, which proved to be Mrs. Montague's boudoir, deposited his hat, gloves, and cane where he could conveniently get them again--for he did not intend to remain long--and then descended to the drawing-room.

He made his way at once to where Mrs. Montague was standing with her captive beside her, for he desired to get through with the disagreeable duty of offering congratulations, with all possible dispatch.

Poor Mr. Palmer! Ray pitied him, in spite of his aversion to the engagement, for he looked heated and flushed, and somewhat sheepish as his son approached, although he tried to smile and look happy, as if he enjoyed the glitter and show and confusion reigning all about him.

Ray politely shook hands with his hostess, making some general remark upon the occasion and the brilliant a.s.sembly, as he did so.

"And--I hope I am to have your congratulations." Mrs. Montague archly remarked, as she glanced from him to his father.

"You certainly can have no doubt that I sincerely hope the arrangement may be for your mutual happiness," the young man gravely replied, as he bowed before them both.

"Then show yourself a dutiful son by drinking a cup of tea with me,"

laughingly returned the lady, as she slipped her white hand within his arm, and led him toward the great silver urn, where several charming "buds" were dispensing the fragrant beverage to the numerous guests.

Ray had no alternative, and he well knew that the wily widow had adroitly taken this way to make it appear to her guests that the son heartily approved his father's choice.

She possessed infinite tact, and chatted away in the most brilliant manner, making him wait upon her so a.s.siduously that Ray was sure, from the looks of those about them, that every one was admiring his devotion(?) to his future step-mother.

She released him at last, however, and returned to her position beside his father, and watching his opportunity he stole un.o.bserved from the room, and up stairs, intending to get away from the house as soon as possible.

Reaching Mrs. Montague's boudoir, he walked to the bay-window, and looked out upon the street. He was nervous and excited, and wished to regain his accustomed composure before going down stairs again.

He stood there a moment absorbed in unpleasant reflections, then turned to get his coat and hat.

As he did so, one of his feet caught in the heavy damask draperies, and in trying to disengage it, something crackled sharply beneath it, and he stooped to ascertain what it was.

Sweeping aside the heavy curtains, he saw a long, narrow doc.u.ment lying upon the floor beneath its folds.

He picked it up, and saw that it was a piece of parchment with something apparently printed upon it.

Not supposing it to be anything of importance, he mechanically unfolded it and began to read.

"Why, it is a marriage certificate!" he exclaimed, in surprise, under his breath.

Not caring to read the whole form, he simply glanced at the places where the names of the contracting parties were written, and instantly a mighty shock seemed to shake him from head to foot.

"Ha! what can this mean?" he exclaimed, in a breathless voice.

His face grew deathly pale. A blur came before his eyes. He rubbed them to dispel it, and looked again.

"It cannot be possible!" he said, in a hoa.r.s.e whisper, and actually panting as if he had been running hard. "I cannot believe my sight, and yet it is here in black and white! and Mona--Mona, my darling! the mystery will be solved, and you will be righted at last."

The certificate, as will be readily surmised, was the very one which Mrs.

Montague had examined the previous evening.

When Mona had knocked upon the door, it will be remembered that she was greatly startled and had upset the table. The accident had caused the certificate to be thrown upon the floor, with the other things, and by some means it was pushed beneath the heavy damask curtain and had escaped Mrs. Montague's eye and memory, when she hastily gathered up the scattered treasures and rearranged them in the secret compartment of the table.

Thus it had come into Ray's possession just at a time when it was most needed and desired.

Regaining his composure somewhat, he read it carefully through from beginning to end.

"How could it have come to be in such a strange place, and to fall into my hands?" he said, the look of wonder still on his face. "She--that woman must have had it in her possession, even as Mona suspected, and by some mistake or oversight dropped and forgot it. Shall I tell her I have found it? Shall I return it and then demand it from her?" he questioned, his innate sense of honor recoiling from everything that seemed dishonorable. "No," he continued, sternly, "it is not hers--she has no right whatever to it; it belongs to Mona alone, for it is the proof of her birthright. I will take it directly to Mr. Corbin, and I will not even tell Mona until I have first confided in him."

With a resolute purpose written on his fine face, Ray carefully put the doc.u.ment away in an inner pocket; then donning his coat and hat, quietly left the house.

The last postal delivery of that same evening brought to Mrs. Richmond Montague the following anonymous letter:

"MADAME:--The girl in your employ, who calls herself Ruth Richards, is not what she pretends to be. Her true name is Mona Montague, and she is compromising herself by secret meetings with a gentleman in high life.

She lunched this morning at the Hoffman House Cafe with Mr. Raymond Palmer, the son of a worthy gentleman whom you intend to marry. You perhaps will best know whether she has any hidden purpose in figuring as a seamstress, and under the name of Ruth Richards, in your house."

Unfortunately for our young lovers, Miss Josephine Holt had also been taking an early lunch in the Hoffman House Cafe that morning, and had seen Ray and Mona the moment they had entered.

Ever since she had discovered Mona at Hazeldean she had been trying to think of some way by which she could separate them, and now, knowing that Mrs. Montague was bent upon marrying Mr. Palmer, and feeling sure that there was some secret which Mona wished to preserve by becoming a seamstress in the woman's house under an a.s.sumed name, she believed she could the best achieve her purpose by disclosing her ident.i.ty and setting Mrs. Montague against her. How well she succeeded will be seen later on.

CHAPTER VII.

MONA MAKES A SURPRISING DISCOVERY.

It was now the third week in April, and the season was unusually early.

The gra.s.s had become quite green, the trees were putting forth their leaves, and the weather was very warm for the time of the year.

On the morning after the high-tea and the announcement of the engagement, Mrs. Montague sought Mona and informed her that a party of friends had arranged for a pleasure trip through the South and down the Mississippi, and asked her if she would accompany her, since Louis had business to attend to, and could not act as her escort.

Mona did not exactly like to go, but there was really no good reason why she should refuse; the rush of sewing was nearly over, and if she were left behind, she would have to be idle the greater portion of the time; besides, she had worked very steadily, and she knew that she needed rest and relaxation.

She inquired how long Mrs. Montague intended to be gone, and the lady replied that she expected to return within two weeks.

"Of course you can please yourself about the matter, Ruth," she remarked.

"I suppose I could take Mary, but she is not companionable--she would not appreciate the journey, and I really wish you would go. I should regard it as quite a favor," the woman concluded, appealingly.

If Mona had been more observing, she might have seen that she was being closely watched, and that her answer was anxiously awaited. Mona considered the subject a few moments before replying. Her greatest objection was leaving Ray for so long--two weeks would seem almost interminable without seeing him.

But, on the other hand, perhaps while in such close companionship with Mrs. Montague as there would have to be on such a journey, something might be dropped about her former life which would enlighten her regarding what she was so eager to ascertain. It would be a delightful trip, too, and Mona knew that she should enjoy seeing the country, as she had never been South.

"When do you start?" she inquired, before committing herself.

"I want to get off in the evening express," Mrs. Montague returned, watching every expression of the young girl's face.

"In _this_ evening's express?" asked Mona, in surprise.