It was a brilliant scene when the grand procession formed.

The pavilion had been very tastefully decorated, and one would hardly have believed that there were only bare, rough boards behind the artistically draped damask silk and lace, which had been used in profusion to conceal them. The s.p.a.cious room was brilliantly lighted; flowers and potted plants were everywhere, making the place bright with their varied hues, and sending forth their fragrance into every nook and corner, while the fine orchestra was concealed behind a screen of palms, mingled with oleanders in full bloom.

There must have been at least two hundred people present, the gentlemen, of course, in full evening dress, while the ladies' costumes were of exceeding richness and beauty, yet among them all, it is doubtful if there was one so happy as the lovely girl who sat so quietly in the balcony and watched the gay scene in which she could not mingle.

There were a good many people sitting there with her, and not a few regarded her with curious and admiring interest, and judged from her dress that she was in mourning, and that she was thus debarred, by the customs of society, from appearing in a ball-room as one of the dancers. That she was a lady no one doubted for a moment, for her every look and movement betrayed it.

Now and then Ray's fond glances would seek her, and, catching her eye, a little nod or smile plainly told her how he longed to be with her.

Mona saw Mrs. Montague conspicuous among the dancers, and she appeared to enter into the spirit of the occasion with almost the zest of a young girl during her first season; while it was noticed that Mr. Palmer was her companion more frequently than any other person.

She had come in with him for the grand march, and when the procession for supper was formed she was again upon his arm.

But Mona could not see Ray anywhere among this crowd, and the occupants of the balcony also going below for refreshment, she found herself almost alone in the pavilion.

But it was not for long, for presently she caught the sound of a quick, elastic step, and the next moment her lover was beside her.

"Come back a little, dear, where we can sit in the shadow of the draperies, and we will have a precious half-hour all by ourselves," he said, in a low tone; "then in a few moments a servant will bring us up some supper."

"How thoughtful you are, Ray! But, truly, I do not care for anything to eat," Mona returned, as she arose and followed him to a cozy nook, where the draperies would partially conceal them from observation.

"I do, my brown-eyed la.s.sie," Ray responded, emphatically; "after the violent exercise of the last two hours I am quite sure my inner man needs replenishing. Ah, James, you're a good fellow," he continued, as a tan-colored son of the South now made his appearance, bearing a tray of tempting viands. "Here, take this and drink my health by and by; but come back and get your tray in the course of half an hour."

The darky showed two rows of brilliant teeth as Ray slipped a silver dollar into his hand; then with a cheerful "Yes, sir--thank'ee, sir,"

and a low bow he disappeared as suddenly as he had come.

Mona was hungry, in spite of her a.s.sertion to the contrary, and she enjoyed the rich treat that Ray had so thoughtfully provided for her, while he was full of fun and gayety, and they had a merry time up there all by themselves.

When the dancers began to return, Ray quietly remarked:

"My darling, I am not going down to the company again; I feel guilty to have you sit moping here, while I am playing the gallant cavalier to other girls."

Mona laughed out softly, but gleefully, at this speech.

"I trust you will always be as conscientious and dutiful, my loyal knight," she roguishly retorted.

"You will never have cause to question my loyalty, my own," he whispered, with a look that brought a bright color into her cheeks.

"But I have not been moping," Mona resumed. "I have enjoyed being here and watching the dancers very much, and you know I could not join them even if my present position did not debar me," she tremulously concluded.

"True; I had not thought of that," the young man said, gravely, as his eye swept over her black dress.

"So, then, if you feel that your duty is below, do not hesitate about leaving me," Mona urged.

"I am not going," he firmly reiterated. "I have been formally introduced to 'Miss Richards,' and I have a perfect right to cultivate her acquaintance if I choose."

Mona did not urge him further; she saw that he really wished to stay, and she was only too happy to have him there by her side; and so the lovers pa.s.sed two delightful hours, watching the gay throng below, now and then exchanging fond looks or a few low spoken words, and only one pair of eyes among the mult.i.tude espied and recognized them.

These belonged to Louis Hamblin, whose eyes lighted with sudden triumph, while an evil smile played over his face as he saw them.

"I thought so," he muttered, as he noticed Ray Palmer's att.i.tude of devotion. "That would prove the truth of my suspicions, if nothing else did so."

CHAPTER XXIII.

LOUIS HAMBLIN IS JEALOUS OF RAY.

It was after one o'clock when Mona told Ray that she must go to her room, so as to be in readiness to a.s.sist Mrs. Montague when she came up from the pavilion.

Ray was loath to let her go; he longed to keep her there with him until the last moment, but he felt that she was the best judge of her duty, and he would not interfere with it, since he had conceded the point of her remaining with Mrs. Montague for the present.

He arose to accompany her through the pavilion and drawing-room to the hall.

"Will it not be better for me to go alone?" asked Mona, fearing that she might be made conspicuous by this attention.

"Through all that crowd!" exclaimed her lover, surprised. "No, indeed; I would not allow any lady whom I knew to go unattended, and since it is known that I have been formally presented to Miss Richards, why should I not treat her with becoming politeness?"

Mona made no further objection, but quietly took his arm and allowed him to have his way. She was proud and happy to know that Ray was n.o.ble-minded enough to have no fear of being seen publicly showing courtesy to a simple seamstress.

As they were pa.s.sing through the drawing-room Mona caught sight of Mrs.

Montague and Mr. Palmer sitting in an alcove by themselves.

Both glanced up, for the young couple were obliged to pa.s.s near them, and Mrs. Montague frowned as she saw her waiting-maid, for the second time that evening, upon the arm of Ray.

Mr. Palmer flushed and appeared somewhat embarra.s.sed as he met his son's eye, although he nodded and smiled in his usual genial way.

Reaching the main hall, Ray led Mona to the foot of the stairs, and held out his hand for a parting clasp.

"Good-night, my darling," he said, bending over her and speaking in a low tone. "Do you know that you are all the world to me, and I shall impatiently count the days until I can claim you--three months hence at the farthest! I must say good-by, too," he added, "as we leave for New York early in the morning; but I shall try to see you again in a few days."

Mona smiled, a delicate flush suffusing her face at his fond words; then, responding to his good-night, she went quickly up stairs and sought her room, firmly believing that she was the happiest person at Hazeldean, and that her lover was the n.o.blest man in the world.

Louis Hamblin had seen the young couple leave the pavilion, and following them at a distance, had watched them with a jealous eye as they took leave of each other.

Another pair of eyes were also peering at them over the banister in the upper hall, and a beautiful face clouded over with anger and jealousy when Ray bent, with that earnest, luminous look, to whisper his parting in Mona's ear.

They belonged to a brilliant society belle, Miss Josephine Holt, who had long entertained a secret affection for Ray.

She also knew Mona, having met her in society earlier in the season, and had been jealous of the young man's attentions to her.

She wondered at finding her there at Hazeldean, for she knew of her loss of fortune. She slipped out of sight into a dressing-room as Mona came up stairs, and, finding Miss Merrill there, asked her, in an indifferent tone, as Mona pa.s.sed the door, who the young lady was.

"Oh, that is Ruth Richards--Mrs. Montague's waiting-maid," was the reply.

A smile of scorn leaped to Miss Holt's proud lips as she heard the name.