True Loves Reward | Page 5

her
spite against Mona. Indeed, she was even kinder than she had ever been.
Mona quietly resumed her usual duties, and was so faithful and
obliging that the woman apparently regretted her harshness on the night

of the ball, and was very considerate in her requirements, and verified
what Mary, the waitress, had once said, that she was a kind mistress if
she wasn't crossed.
On the morning after their arrival in New York, Mona wrote a note to
Ray, related something of what had occurred, and suggested that it
might be as well not to antagonize Mrs. Montague further by being
seen together while she remained in her employ. She told him where
she would attend church the following Sabbath, and asked him to meet
her so that they could talk over some plan by which they might see
each other from time to time without exciting suspicion regarding their
relations.
Mr. Amos Palmer called by appointment upon Mrs. Montague on
Wednesday evening, following the return from Hazeldean, when he
formally proposed, and was accepted.
When, on Thursday morning, the triumphant widow announced the fact
to her nephew, he flew into a towering passion, and a bitter quarrel
ensued.
"You have promised me that you would never marry," he cried, angrily;
"you have pledged your word that I should be your sole heir, and I
swear that you shall not give me the go-by in any such shabby fashion."
"Hush, Louis; you are very unreasonable," said his aunt. "I believe that
it will be for your interest as well as mine that I marry Mr. Palmer, and
because I simply change my name, it does not follow that you will not
be my heir. You know that I have no other relative, and I mean that you
shall inherit my fortune. If you will marry Kitty McKenzie immediately.
I will settle a hundred thousand upon you outright."
"But I don't like the idea of your marrying at all--I vow I won't stand
it!" the young man reiterated, and ignoring the subject of his own
marriage. "I suppose you have reasons for wishing to change your
name," he added, with a sneer, "but you must not forget that I know
something of your early history and subsequent experiences, and I have
you somewhat in my power."

"And you are no less in mine, young man," his companion sternly
retorted. "It will not be well for you to make an enemy of me, Louis--it
will be far better for you to yield to my plans gracefully, for my mind is
fully set on this marriage. Can't you understand that as the wife of a
man in Mr. Palmer's position, nothing that has ever been connected
with my previous history will be liable to touch me. Mrs. Richmond
Montague," with a sneering laugh, "will have vanished, or become a
myth, and Mrs. Palmer will be unassailable by any enemies of the
past."
"Yes; I can fully understand that," her nephew thoughtfully replied,
"and perhaps--Well, if I withdraw my objections, will you let me off
from any supposed obligations to Kitty McKenzie? Truly, Aunt Marg,"
with unusual earnestness, "I don't want to marry the girl, and I do want
to marry some one else; give me the hundred thousand and let me
choose my own wife, and we will cry quits."
"Louis Hamblin, I believe you will drive me crazy!" cried Mrs.
Montague, growing crimson with sudden anger, "What new freak has
got into your head now? Who is this some one else whom you wish to
marry?"
"That girl up stairs--Ruth Richards, she calls herself," the young man
answered, flushing, but speaking with something of defiance in his
tone.
"Good gracious, Louis! you cannot mean it!" she exclaimed, aghast. "I
told you I would have no nonsense in that direction. Does she, Ruth,
suspect your folly?"
"Only to toss her head and turn the cold shoulder on me. She is in no
way responsible for my folly, as you call it, except by being so
decidedly pretty. You'd better give in, Aunt Marg--it'll be for your
interest not to make an enemy of me," he quoted, in a peculiar tone,
"and it will make a man of me, too, for I vow I love the girl to
distraction."
Mrs. Montague uttered a sigh of despair.

"I was afraid you'd make a fool of yourself over her, and now I shall
have to send the girl away. It is too bad, for she is the only expert
seamstress I have had for a year," she said, tears of vexation actually
rushing to her eyes.
"No, you don't," the young man retorted, flaming up angrily; "don't you
dare to send her away, or I swear I will do something desperate.
Besides, the girl doesn't care a rap