Mona, however, did not mind the walk--indeed, on the whole, she was rather glad of the privilege of getting out by herself into the sunshine which was so in harmony with her own bright mood. Still she could not help feeling that it was rather inconsiderate of Mrs. Montague to require her to walk two miles simply to gratify a mere whim.

It was about nine o'clock when she started out upon her errand, and as she ran down the steps and out upon the broad avenue, her bright eyes went glancing eagerly about, for Mona had secretly hoped that she might catch a glimpse of and perhaps even secure a few words with her lover.

But Ray was nowhere visible, being just at that moment in the smoking-room with several other gentlemen.

Mr. Palmer, the senior, however, was walking in the park, and evidently deeply absorbed in the consideration of some important matter, for his hands were clasped behind him, his head was bowed, and his eyes fixed upon the ground.

But he glanced up as Mona pa.s.sed him, and his eyes lighted as they fell upon her beautiful face.

He lifted his hat and bowed as courteously to her as he would have done to Mrs. Montague herself, and Mona's heart instantly warmed toward him for his politeness as she returned his salute.

"She is the prettiest girl in the house if she _is_ only a waiting-maid,"

he muttered, as he turned for a second to look at the graceful figure after Mona had pa.s.sed him. "How finely she carries herself--how elastic her step!"

Another pair of observing eyes had also caught sight of her by this time, and mental comments of a far different character were running through a younger brain.

The smoking-room at Hazeldean was in the third story of the south wing of the house, and overlooked the avenue and park, as well as a broad stretch of country beyond, and Ray Palmer, sitting beside one of the windows--apparently listening to the conversation of his companions, but really thinking of his interview with Mona the previous evening--espied his betrothed just as she was leaving the grounds of Hazeldean and turning into the main road.

He knocked the ashes from his cigar, took another whiff or two, then laid it down, and turned to his host, who was sitting near him.

"I believe I would like a canter across the country this bright morning, Mr. Wellington," he remarked. "May I beg the use of a horse and saddle for a couple of hours?"

"Certainly, Mr. Palmer--whatever I have in the stable in the form of horses or vehicles is as the disposal of my guests," was the courteous reply. "It is a fine morning for a ride," the gentleman added, "and perchance," with an arch smile, "you may be able to find some bright-eyed maiden who would be glad to accompany you."

Ray thanked him, and then hastened away to the stable to select his horse--his companion he knew he would find later on. In less than fifteen minutes from the time he had seen Mona leave the grounds he was cantering in the same direction; but she was a rapid walker, and he did not overtake her until she had nearly reached the village.

She caught the sound of a horse's hoofs behind her, but did not like to look back to see who was approaching, and it was only when the equestrian was close beside her that she glanced up to find the fond, smiling eyes of her lover resting upon her.

The glad look of welcome which leaped into her own eyes and flashed over her face told him how well he was beloved far better than any words could have done.

"_Ray_!" she exclaimed, in a joyous tone, as he drew rein beside her, and unhesitatingly laid her hand within the strong palm which he extended to her.

"My darling!" he returned, as he leaped to the ground, "this is an unexpected pleasure! I hardly dared to hope that I should see you alone to-day. How does it happen that you are so far from Hazeldean and walking?"

"Mrs. Montague had a few errands which she wished me to do for her in the village," Mona explained.

"Could she not have arranged for you to ride?" Ray asked, with a frown, and flushing to have his dear one's comfort so ignored.

"Oh, I do not mind the walk in the least," she hastened to say. "The morning is very lovely, and I am glad, on the whole, for I should have missed you if I had ridden."

"True, I saw you just as you were leaving Hazeldean, and so came after you," Ray returned, smiling.

They were just entering Rhinebeck now, and Mona looked anxiously up and down the street.

She feared that some of the other guests at Hazeldean might be about and see her with Ray if they should go through the place together.

He was quick to note the anxiety, and to understand its cause.

"How long will it take you to make your purchases, Mona?" he inquired, looking at his watch.

"Half an hour, perhaps," she replied.

"Well, then, I will leave you here, for a little trot about the country, and meet you again at this spot at the end of thirty minutes. I cannot resist the temptation to have a little chat with you on the way home,"

Ray returned, and, with another fond pressure of the hand, he leaped again upon his horse and galloped away.

With a rapidly beating heart and flushed cheeks, Mona hurried on her way.

She made her purchases with all possible dispatch, then, as she had a few minutes to spare, she slipped into a hot-house, where flowers were cultivated for the city market, and bought a bunch of white violets, and a few sprays of heliotrope, then she turned her footsteps back toward Hazeldean.

She had hardly reached the spot where she had parted from Ray, when she heard him coming in the distance.

He joined her in another moment, and springing from the saddle, he threw the bridle-rein over his arm and walked beside her, leading his horse.

They had not proceeded far when they came to a place where another road appeared to branch off from the road they were on.

"Let us turn here," Ray said. "I have been exploring while you were in the village, and I found that this is a kind of lane, hedged on either side with a thick growth of pines, and leads back to the main road farther on. It is a little roundabout, but we shall not be likely to meet any one whom we know, and we shall feel far more freedom."

Mona was very glad to adopt this plan, and wandering slowly along beneath the shadows of the heavy pines, the lovers soon forgot that there was any one else in the world except themselves.

They talked over more fully the incidents of the weeks of their separation, but Ray dwelt a good deal upon the story of the stolen diamonds, and Mona could not fail to observe that he was very much troubled about the affair.

"It is a great loss," he remarked, with a sigh, "and though I cannot feel that I am culpably blamable, yet I do not cease to reproach myself for having been so thoroughly fooled by that woman. If I had only retained my hold upon the package, she never could have got it."

"But you may recover the diamonds, even now," Mona remarked. "You say that the detective arrested a woman on Friday evening as the suspected party."

"Yes, he suspects her in connection with another case, which he has been at work upon for over three years," and Ray related the story of the stolen crescents, then continued: "At the Delmonico ball he saw this Mrs.

Vanderheck with them in her ears, and a cross like one that we lost, so he arrested her upon suspicion of both robberies, but somehow I am not very sanguine that we shall recover the stones."

"Did you not see the cross?" Mona asked.

"No; Mr. Rider had deposited it somewhere for safe keeping. It will be produced at the examination to-morrow. But, really, Mona," Ray interposed, with a nervous laugh, "I feel worse over the fact of having been so taken in by this pretended Mrs. Vanderbeck, than over the pecuniary loss."

The poor fellow felt very much as Justin Cutler felt when he learned how he had been tricked into paying a large price for the pair of paste crescents.

"How did the woman look, Ray? Describe her to me," Mona said.

She experienced a strange fascination in the story with all its curious details.

Ray gave a vivid word-picture of the beautiful woman, her dress, her carriage, and even her driver, for everything connected with that unexampled experience was indelibly stamped upon his mind.

"You say her dress was badly torn," Mona musingly observed, when he had concluded the account of the discovery, and what had followed their getting out of the carriage and entering Doctor Wesselhoff's office.

"Yes, there was quite a rent in it, and I imagine this circ.u.mstance was not premeditated in the plan of her campaign, for she certainly was annoyed to have the beautiful cloth torn, although she tried to make light of it," Ray replied, then added: "And later in the day I found a piece of the goods adhering to my clothing."

"Did you?" questioned Mona, eagerly.

"Yes, and if I should ever see that dress again I could easily identify it, for I have the piece now and could fit it into the rent. But doubtless my lady has disposed of that costume long before this. Here is the piece, though--I have kept it, thinking it might possibly be of use some time."

Ray drew forth his pocket-book as he spoke, opened it, took out a folded paper, and handed it to Mona.