A fortnight had elapsed since Mr. Dinsmore died, and everything had moved on as usual in his elegant home, while Mrs. Marston, the housekeeper, strove in every way to comfort Mona and to keep her mind occupied so that her thoughts would not long dwell upon her bereavement. But the young girl's condition troubled her greatly. She was listless and languid; she lost her appetite, and had seasons of depression and outbursts of sorrow that were really alarming. Susie Leades came to her almost every day and tried to cheer her. Mona appreciated her kind efforts, and was somewhat comforted by them, while she also had many letters of sympathy and condolence from her numerous friends. But to her great surprise Ray Palmer had never once come to inquire for her; neither had he written her one word to tell her that he felt for her in this bitter trial. She was both grieved and hurt over his apparent indifference, especially after the request he had made on the evening of their attendance at the opera, and the many unmistakable signs of regard which he had betrayed for her at that time. She was brooding over this one afternoon when Mr. Graves, the lawyer and her future guardian, was announced. He looked serious and troubled; indeed, he was so unlike himself that Mona observed it, and asked him if he was ill. "No, Miss Mona, I am not really ill, but I am laboring under trouble and anxiety enough to almost make me so," he responded, as he took her extended hand and gazed down upon her own colorless face with a sorrowful, wistful look. "Trouble?" she repeated, with a quivering lip. "Oh, trouble is so much harder to bear than illness." "My poor child, your remark only makes my burden all the heavier," the gentleman returned, in an unsteady voice. "Alas, my trouble is all on your account, for I am the bearer of ill news for you." "Ill news--to me?" exclaimed the young girl, in a wondering tone. "After losing Uncle Walter, it does not seem as if _any_ trouble could move me; _nothing_ can compare with that," she concluded, passionately. "Very true; but there are other troubles in life besides death," said Mr. Graves, gently; "such as--the loss of fortune, poverty--" "Do you mean that I am to have no fortune--that I am to be poor?" exclaimed Mona, astonished. "Ah, I fear that it is so." "How can that be possible? Uncle Walter was very rich, wasn't he? I certainly understood you to say so." "Yes, I did; and I find, on looking into his affairs, that he was worth even more than I had previously supposed." "Well, then, what can you mean? I am his only near relative, and you said that I should inherit everything," Mona said with a perplexed look. "I know I did, and I thought so at that time; but, Mona, I was waited upon by a noted lawyer only a few days ago, and he claims the whole of your uncle's great wealth for another." "Why, who can it possibly be?" cried the girl in amazement. "Your uncle's wife, or, I should say, his widow."