Mona | Page 3

his love then and there, lay his fortune at her feet, and thus relieve her from her present trouble and all anxiety for the future.
But he feared she might resent the offer, coming at such a time--think it was prompted more by pity than affection, and reject it as scornfully as she had refused his offer of a loan.
She was very attractive as she sat there before him, her white hands folded on her lap, her eyes cast down in troubled thought, and a grieved expression about her beautiful mouth, and he longed, with all the earnestness of his generous nature, to help her in this emergency.
Suddenly his face lighted.
"Are you willing to confide in me the amount of your indebtedness, Mrs. Bently?" he gently asked.
She falteringly named a sum that staggered him, and told him that she had indeed been very extravagant.
"I--I have always had what I wanted. I have never had to count the cost of anything, for my husband was very generous and indulgent," she apologized, with evident embarrassment, as she met his grave look.
"May I make a practical suggestion without the fear of offending you?" the young man questioned, with some confusion.
"Oh, if you would!" cried his companion, eagerly, her face brightening, while she uttered a sigh of relief, as if she expected that his suggestion, whatever it might be, would lift the burden from her heart.
"You have some very costly jewels," Mr. Cutler remarked, the color deepening in his cheek as he glanced at the flashing stones in her ears; "perhaps you would be willing to dispose of them and thus relieve yourself from your present embarrassment."
"Oh, you mean sell my--my diamonds?" cried the lovely widow, with a little nervous sob, and instantly her two white hands went up to her ears, covering the blazing gems from his sight, while a painful flush leaped to her brow and lost itself beneath the soft rings of her burnished hair.
"Yes," pursued Mr. Cutler, wondering at her confusion. "If I am any judge, they are very valuable stones, and I suppose you might realize a handsome sum upon them."
He was secretly planning to redeem them and restore them to her later, if she should favorably regard his suit.
"But--but;" and her confusion became intensified a hundred-fold, "they aren't real. I'd be glad enough if they were, and would willingly sell them to cancel my indebtedness, but they are only paste, although an excellent imitation."
Her companion regarded her with astonishment.
"You surely do not mean that?" he exclaimed, "for if I ever saw pure white diamonds, those which you wear are certainly genuine."
"No, they are not," she returned, shaking her head with a positive air. "I am very fond of diamonds and I had some very nice ones once, but they were stolen from me just after my husband died. I could not afford to replace them, just then, and I had these made to wear until I could do so. They were made in Paris, where they are very clever at such work. I hoped when my husband's estate was settled, I could have some real stones again; but, of course, I cannot now," she regretfully concluded.
"Will you allow me to examine them, please?" Mr. Cutler asked, still sure that the stones were genuine.
Mrs. Bently unhesitatingly removed one of the crescent ornaments from her ear and laid it in his hand.
He examined it critically and was still confident that it was really composed of precious gems. He believed that if she had had them made to order to replace the stolen ones, either the jeweler had been guilty of a wretched blunder, or else some friend had interposed to replace the jewels which she so regretted.
"I am sure there is some mistake. I am confident that these are real diamonds and very valuable," he asserted, positively.
"Oh, no, they are not," she repeated, with grave assurance.
Then she na?vely added, and with a little ripple of laughter:
"I am glad to know that they are so good an imitation as to deceive you. There is some comfort in that, although it is not pleasant to have to acknowledge the sham."
Still her companion was not convinced. Surely no paste jewels ever emitted such a brilliant white light as those which lay upon his palm, catching and reflecting the various colors about them in such dazzling gleams.
"Would you be willing to go with me to some reliable jeweler and have them tested?" he asked.
The lovely woman flushed crimson.
"No, I couldn't do that; I should not like to--to have it known that I had been wearing such things," she said. "To be sure," she added, with a quick upward glance that made her companion thrill with secret joy, "I have confessed it to you, but you were so kind and sympathetic I--I trusted you involuntarily."
"Thank you,"