"Now for the fan, and you will be complete," cried Mrs. Montague, as she brought an exquisite affair composed of white ostrich tips, with a bird of Paradise nestling in its center, and handed it to Mona. Then she stood off to admire the _tout ensemble_, and just at that moment there came a tap upon her door. She went immediately to open it, and found her nephew standing outside. "I've come for the money, Aunt Margie," he said. "I thought I'd better have it to-night, since I am going to town on the early train, and did not like to disturb you in the morning." "Very well, I will get it for you, and I hope that Madame Millaise will have the mantle ready for you, for I must have it on Monday evening to throw over my shoulders after dancing," Mrs. Montague responded, as she turned back to get her purse. She was on the point of closing the door, for she did not care to have her nephew know what was going on within the room. But Mr. Louis Hamblin was very keen. He knew from her manner that something unusual was occurring, and so he boldly pushed on after her, and entered the chamber before she was aware of his intention. He stopped suddenly, however, the moment he had crossed the threshold, stricken with astonishment, as his glance rested upon Mona. He had known that the girl was unusually lovely, but he was not quite prepared to see such a vision of beauty as now greeted his eyes. "Jove! Aunt Marg, isn't she a stunner?" he cried, under his breath. "You won't see one at the ball Monday night that can hold a candle to her!" Mona had flushed a vivid scarlet when he had so unceremoniously forced his way into the room; but at his bold compliment she turned haughtily away from his gaze with the air of an offended queen. Her bearing, though full of scorn, was replete with grace and dignity, while the voluminous train of the rich dress made her slender form seem even taller and more regal than it really was. Mrs. Montague had been no less impressed with the young girl's beauty, but it would have affected her no more than that of a wax figure would have done had no one else been present to remark it. Now, however, at Louis' high praise, a feeling of envy sprang up in her heart, and a frown of annoyance gathered on her brow. "I wish you would go out, Louis," she said, sharply. "It is very rude of you to thus force yourself into my room." "Come now, Aunt Marg, that's a good one, when all my life I have been in the habit of running in and out of your room, to do your bidding like a lackey," the young man retorted, mockingly. "But really this is an unexpected treat," he added, wickedly. "Miss Richards, in these fine togs, is the most beautiful woman that I have ever seen. And--'pon my word, Aunt Marg, I really believe she looks like--" "Louis!" came in a sharp, warning cry from Mrs. Montague's lips, as she wheeled around upon him, her blazing eyes having a dangerous gleam in them.