"His name is Palmer," Mrs. Montague remarked, as she bent a searching look upon the young girl. But Mona had herself well in hand now, and she made no sign that the name was a familiar one to her. "He has a son who is strikingly good looking, too," Mrs. Montague continued. "I met them both at a reception in New York a little while ago, and was greatly attracted to them, though just now the young man is rather unhappy--in fact, he is wearing the willow for some girl whom he imagines he loves." Mrs. Montague paused to note the effect of this conversation, but Mona had finished fastening the buckle on the slipper, and quietly taken up some other work, though her pulses were beating like trip-hammers. "It seems," the woman resumed, her keen eyes never leaving the fair face opposite to her, "that he has long been very fond of a girl whose surname is the same as mine--a Miss Mona Montague. She was a niece of that wealthy Mr. Dinsmore, who died so suddenly in New York a short time ago." It seemed to Mona that her heart must leap from her bosom as she listened to this reference to herself; but, with every appearance of perfect composure, she measured off some ribbon that she was making into bows, and severed it with a sharp clip of her scissors. "Perhaps you do not know whom I mean," said Mrs. Montague, and paused, determined to make the girl speak. "Oh, yes, I have heard of him, and I remember reading the notice of his death in a paper," Mona compelled herself to say, without betraying anything of the pain which smote her heart in recurring thus to her great loss. Mrs. Montague frowned. She was not progressing as well as she could have wished in her "pumping" operation; but she meant to probe the matter as far as she dared. "Well," she went on, "this niece was supposed by everybody to be Mr. Dinsmore's heiress; but a discarded wife suddenly made her appearance, after his death, and claimed the whole of his property, and the girl was left without a penny. She must have been terribly cut up about it, for she suddenly disappeared, and cannot be found, and it is this that has so upset young Palmer. He had not committed himself, his father informed me, but was just on the point of declaring his love when Mr. Dinsmore died; and the girl, evidently crushed by her loss, has hidden herself so securely that no one can find her." It was fortunate for Mona that her recent troubles had taught her something of self-control, or she must have betrayed herself at this point. She realized that Mrs. Montague must have a purpose in relating all this to her, and feared it was to verify some suspicion regarding herself.