"Aha! this relative must be the friend for whom she is in mourning--he cannot have been dead very long, for the girl is unable to speak of him without tears," muttered Mrs. Montague, thoughtfully, a heavy frown settling on her brow. "There is some mystery about her which I am bound to ferret out; she is exceedingly reticent about herself--I wonder if my suspicions can be correct?" she continued, her face settling into hard, revengeful lines. "She certainly looks enough like that girl to be her child. If I were sure, I would not spare her; I would crush her, for the hate that I bore her mother, notwithstanding she is so useful to me. Ha, ha!" and the laugh was exceedingly bitter, "it would seem like the irony of fate to have her child thrown thus into my power. But if she is Mona Montague why does she call herself Ruth Richards? what can be her object? Can it be possible," she added, with a startled look, "that she has been told her history, and she has engaged herself to me with the purpose of trying to obtain the proofs of it? Is she deep enough for that? or has she been advised to adopt such a course? She seems to be very frank and innocent, intent only upon doing her work well and pleasing me. Yet, if she should get hold of any of those proofs, she could make a great deal of trouble for me. I believe I shall have to destroy them, although I always feel as if a ghost were haunting me whenever I touch them. I shall never be satisfied until I learn Ruth's history. I'll attack her about the Palmers; if she is Mona Montague--the girl that Ray Palmer loves--she certainly will betray herself if I take her unawares; although she did not appear to know Mr. Palmer, last evening." Mona returned at this moment, and Mrs. Montague's musings were cut short. The young girl had recovered her self-control, and was as calm and collected as usual; even more so, for she had told herself that she must be more on her guard or she would betray her identity. Mrs. Montague appeared to have forgotten all about their recent conversation, and chatted sociably about various topics for a while. But suddenly she asked: "Did you observe the new arrival last night, Ruth?" "Do you mean that portly gentleman, who is slightly bald, and with whom you went out for refreshments?" Mona inquired, lifting a frank, inquiring look to her companion, though her heart beat fast at this reference to Ray's father. "Yes; he is very fine-looking, don't you think so?" "Perhaps so--rather," replied Mona, reflectively. "That is 'rather' doubtful praise, I am afraid," observed Mrs. Montague, with a light laugh. "I think he is a very handsome old gentleman, and he is certainly a decidedly entertaining companion. You know who he is, I suppose." "I do not think that I heard anybody address him by name while I was in the drawing-room; of course; I was not introduced to any one," Mona evasively answered.