True Loves Reward | Page 9

copy in three days, she said she
would call for it at the end of that time.
She did so, and found a perfect reproduction of her mother's face, and
upon her return to Mrs. Montague's she gave the pieces of the other to
Mary, telling her she believed she did not care to keep them--they had
better be burned as her mistress had desired.
This relieved her mind, for she did not wish the girl to practice any
deception for her sake, and she feared that Mrs. Montague might
inquire if her orders had been obeyed.
The following day she took the fresh portrait with her when she went
out, and proceeded directly to the office of Corbin & Russel, who had
advertised for information regarding Mona Forester or her heirs.
A gentlemanly clerk came forward as she entered, and politely inquired
her business.
She asked to see a member of the firm, and at the same time produced
the slip which she had cut from the paper.
The clerk's face lighted as he saw it, and his manner at once betrayed
deep interest in the matter.
"Ah, yes," he said, affably; "please walk this way. Mr. Corbin is in and
will be glad to see you."
He led the way to a private office, and, throwing open the door,
respectfully remarked to some one within:
"A lady to see you, sir, about the Forester business." Then turning to
Mona, he added: "This is Mr. Corbin, miss."
A gentleman, who was sitting before a desk, at once arose and came
eagerly forward, scanning Mona's face with great earnestness.

"Have a chair, if you please, Miss ----. Be kind enough to tell me what I
shall call you."
"My name is Mona Montague," the young girl replied, a slight flush
suffusing her cheek beneath his keen glance.
The gentleman started as she spoke it, and regarded her more closely
than before.
"Miss Mona Montague!" he repeated, with a slight emphasis on the last
name; "and you have called to answer the advertisement which recently
appeared in the papers. What can you tell me about Miss Mona
Forester?"
"She was my mother, sir," Mona replied, as she seated herself in the
chair offered her. "At least," she added, "my mother's name was Mona
Forester before her marriage."
"Well, then, young lady, if you can prove that the Mona Forester, for
whom we have advertised, was your mother, there is a snug little sum
of money awaiting your disposal," the gentleman smilingly remarked.
Mona looked astonished. She had scarcely given a thought to reaping
any personal advantage, as had been hinted in the advertisement, from
the fact of being Mona Forester's child. Her chief desire and hope had
been to prove her mother's identity, and to learn something more, if
possible, of her personal history.
She was somewhat excited by the information, but removing the
wrapper from her picture, she arose and laid it before Mr. Corbin,
remarking:
"This is a portrait of Mona Forester, and she was my mother."
Mr. Corbin took the crayon and studied the beautiful face intently for a
few moments; then turning his glance again upon his visitor, he said, in
a tone of conviction:

"There can be no doubt that you and the original of this picture are
closely united by ties of consanguinity, for your resemblance to her is
very striking. You spoke in the past tense, however, so I suppose the
lady is not living."
"No, sir; she died at the time of my birth," Mona answered, sadly.
"Ah! that was very unfortunate for you," Mr. Corbin remarked, in a
tone of sympathy. "You gave your name as Mona Montague, so, of
course, Miss Forester must have married a gentleman by that name.
May I ask--ah--is he living?"
"No, sir, he is not."
"Will you kindly give me his whole name?" Mr. Corbin now asked,
while his eyes had a gleam of intense interest within their dark depths.
"Richmond Montague."
Again the lawyer started, and a look of astonishment passed over his
features.
"Where have you lived, Miss Montague, since the death of your
parents?" he inquired.
"Here in New York, with my uncle."
"Ah! and who was your uncle, if you please?" and the man seemed to
await her reply with almost breathless interest.
"Mr. Dinsmore--Walter Dinsmore."
The lawyer sat suddenly erect, and drew in a long breath, while his
keen eyes seemed to be trying to read the girl's very soul.
He did not speak for nearly a minute; then he said, with his usual
composure:
"So, then, you are the niece of Walter Dinsmore, Esq., who died

recently, and whose property was claimed by a--a wife who had lived
separate from him for a good many years."
Mona flushed hotly at this remark. It