Mona Part 36

She opened it, and found carefully pinned within, a sc.r.a.p of mauve colored ladies' cloth, in the form of a ragged acute angle.

"It is almost like broadcloth--very fine and heavy," she exclaimed. "It is a lovely color, too, and must have been a very beautiful costume."

"It was, and dangerously so," said Ray, dryly. "I admired it exceedingly, especially the fit and make of it."

"I imagine it might have been found in some dye-house shortly after, if you had only thought of it and known where to look," Mona thoughtfully observed.

"That is a bright idea," said Ray, quickly. "I honestly believe that women would make keener and better detectives than men. But," with a sigh, "I'm afraid it is too late now to put your theory to the test, and perhaps I have brushed against its folds on the street a dozen times since in a different color. Well, I suppose I must try to reconcile myself to the inevitable and make up my mind that the stones are gone beyond recovery, unless this Mrs. Vanderheck should prove to be the thief. I have not much faith in the detective's theory, that the Chicago adventuress and our diamond thief are one and the same."

"There seems to be a singular coincidence about the name of the lady who so imposed upon you, and that of the one who is now under arrest," Mona remarked.

"Yes, the only difference is in one letter, and if Mrs. Vanderheck does not prove to be my charmer, or connected with her in any way, I shall be tempted to believe that she purposely took a name so similar in order to throw suspicion upon this woman," said the young man, thoughtfully.

"That may be; and is it not a little suspicious, too, that Mrs.

Vanderbeck should have mentioned an invalid husband when Mrs. Vanderheck really has one?" Mona inquired.

"I had not thought of that before," Ray replied. "Still another singular circ.u.mstance comes to my mind just at this moment. At the time I was introduced to Mrs. Vanderheck, at Mrs. Merrill's reception, I repeated the name as if it was spelled with a 'b,' and emphasized the last syllable. The woman started, glanced at me curiously, and changed color a trifle, while she did not seem to quite recover her self-possession throughout our conversation."

"That does seem rather strange, considering all things," said Mona.

"Perhaps, after all, she may prove to be your adventuress; and yet she must be a very bold one to flaunt her plunder so recklessly and in the very presence of people who would be sure to recognize it."

They changed the subject after that, and chatted upon topics of a more tender and interesting nature.

It was a delightful walk in the mild February air, and a pleasant interview, and both were loath to part when they suddenly found themselves at the other end of the pine-shadowed lane where it curved into the main road again.

Ray took a tender leave of his dear one, then mounting his horse, rode back over the way they had just traversed, while Mona went on to Hazeldean.

CHAPTER XXII.

MONA ATTENDS THE BALL AT HAZELDEAN.

Mona found considerable excitement and confusion prevailing upon her return, for carpenters and decorators were busy about the house; flowers and plants were being carried in from the conservatory; the caterer and his force were arranging things to their minds, in the dining-room and kitchen, and everybody, guests included, was busy and in a flutter of antic.i.p.ation over the approaching festivities.

"It seems to me that you were gone a long while," Mrs. Montague curtly remarked, as Mona entered her room.

"Was I?" the young girl asked, pleasantly; then she added: "Well, two miles make quite a walk."

Mrs. Montague flushed at the remark.

She was well aware that she had been unreasonable in requiring so much, just to secure a few articles which she might have very well done without, and this thought did not add to her comfort.

She made no reply, but quietly laid out some work for Mona, whom she kept busily employed during the remainder of the day.

The young girl cheerfully performed all that was required of her, however; her interview with Ray had served to sweeten every task for that day, while she hoped that she might secure another opportunity, before it was over, for a few more words with him.

But after dinner Mrs. Montague came up stairs better-natured than she had been all day, and turning to Mona, as she entered the room, she asked:

"Have you none but mourning dresses with you? nothing white, or pretty, for evening?"

"No; my dresses are all black; the only thing I have that would be at all suitable for evening is a black net," Mona answered, wondering, with rising color, why she had asked the question.

"That might do with some white ribbons to liven it up a bit," said Mrs.

Montague, thoughtfully. Then she explained: "Mr. Wellington has arranged a balcony in the dancing hall for some friends who are coming to the ball, just to look on for a while, and he has just said to me that there would be a seat for you, if you cared to see the dancing."

Mona looked up eagerly at this.

She dearly loved social life, and she had wished, oh, so much! that she might have the privilege of witnessing the gay scenes of the evening.

"That is very kind of Mr. Wellington," she gratefully remarked.

"Get your dress, and let me look at it," continued Mrs. Montague, who would not commit herself to anything until she could be sure that her seamstress would make a respectable appearance among Mr. Wellington's friends.

He had requested as a favor that Miss Richards might be allowed this privilege in return for having so kindly relieved his daughter at the piano a few evenings previous.

Mona brought the dress--a rich, heavy net, made over handsome black silk, which had been among her wardrobe for the previous summer, when she went to Lenox with her uncle.

"That will be just the thing, only it needs something to relieve its blackness," said Mrs. Montague, while she mentally wondered at the richness of the costume.

"I have some narrow white taste in my trunk, which I can perhaps use to make it a little more suitable for the occasion, if you approve," Mona quietly remarked.

"Yes, fix it as you like," the lady returned, indifferently, adding: "that is if you care about going into the pavilion."

"Thank you; I think I should enjoy watching the dancers for a while," the young girl returned.

Perhaps, she thought, she might be able to s.n.a.t.c.h another brief interview with Ray. At all events she should see him, and that would be worth a great deal.

Her nimble fingers were very busy after that running her white ribbons into the meshes of her dress.

She wove three rows of the narrow, feather-edged taste into each of the flounces, and the effect was very pretty. Then she did the same between the puffs of the full sleeves, tying some dainty bows where she joined them, and finished the neck to correspond.

This was hardly completed when she was called to a.s.sist Mrs. Montague in dressing, and by the time she was ready to descend her good humor was thoroughly restored, for she certainly was a most regal looking woman in her elegant and becoming toilet.

"I do not believe there will be another dress here this evening as beautiful as this," Mona remarked, as she fastened the last fold in place, her pretty face flus.h.i.+ng with genuine admiration for the artistic costume.

"It _is_ handsome, and I look pa.s.sably young in it, too; how old should you take me to be Ruth?" Mrs. Montague asked, with a smiling glance at her own reflection in the mirror.

"A trifle over thirty, perhaps," Mona replied, and the little exultant laugh which broke from her companion told her that she felt highly flattered by that estimate of her years.

"There!" she remarked, as she drew on her gloves, "you need do nothing more for me; go now and get ready yourself, or you will miss the opening promenade."

Mona hastened away to her own room, where she had everything laid out in the most orderly manner, ready to put on, and if Mrs. Montague could have seen the dainty undergarments and skirts spread upon her bed; the costly kid boots and silken hose for her pretty feet, she might have arched her eyebrows more than ever over the extravagant taste of her seamstress.

Mona arranged her hair with great care, as she had worn it on the evening when she attended the opera with Ray, and this done she was soon ready.

She looked lovely. The black net, with its dainty white tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs, was very becoming to her delicate complexion. The lining to the corsage had been cut low, and her pure white neck gleamed like marble through the meshes of the dusky lace. There was no lining, either, to her sleeves and her beautifully rounded arms looked like bits of exquisite sculpture.