nformation. Must she, who all her life had
been the petted child of fortune, go among menials to eat with she knew
not whom?

But she soon conquered her momentary indignation, for she realized that
she was nothing more than a servant herself now, and could not expect to
be treated as an equal by her fashionable employer.

"Will you tell me your name, please?" she asked of the girl, and trying
not to betray any of her sensitiveness.

"Mary, miss," was the respectful reply, for the girl recognized that the
new seamstress was a lady, in spite of the fact that she was obliged to
work for her living.

"Thank you; and--will you please tell me the name of your mistress, also;
the card which she left at the office was lost, and I have not learned
it," Mona said as she arose to hang her wraps in the closet.

"Lor', miss! that is queer," said the girl in a tone of surprise, "that
you should engage yourself and not know who to."

"It didn't really make much difference what the name was--it was the
situation that I wanted," Mona remarked, smiling.

"True enough, but my lady's name's a high-sounding one, and she's not at
all backward about airing it; it rolls off her sweet tongue as easy as
water off a duck's back--Mrs. Richmond Montague," and the girl tossed her
head and drew herself up in imitation of her mistress's haughty air in a
way that would have done credit to a professional actress, "But there,"
she cried, with a start, as a shrill voice sounded from below, "cook is
calling me, and I must run."

She tripped away, humming a gay tune, while Mona sank, white and
trembling, upon the nearest chair.

"Mrs. Richmond Montague!" she repeated, in a scarcely audible voice.
"Can it be possible that she--this woman, to whom I have come as a
seamstress--is my father's second wife--or was, since she is a widow! How
strange! how very strange that I, of all persons, should have been fated
to come here! It is very unfortunate that I could not have known her
name, for, of course, I should never have come if I had. It may be," she
went on, musingly, "that she is some other Mrs. Montague; but no--it
could hardly be possible that there are two persons with that peculiar
combination of names. This, then, is the woman for whom my father
deserted my mother in order to secure the fortune left by his aunt! How
unworthy!--how contemptible! I am glad that I fell to Uncle Walter's
care; I am glad that I never knew him--this unnatural father w