man,
and of selfish pleasure and lack of principle on the part of the man
who won her. When your mother was eighteen--just your age to-day,
dear--she fell in love with Richmond Montague, and secretly married him."

"Then she was _legally_ his wife!" burst forth Mona, with pale and
trembling lips. "Oh, I have so feared, from your reluctance to tell me my
mother's history, that--that there was some shame connected with it."

"No--no, dear child; set your heart at rest upon that score. She was
legally married to Richmond Montague; but his first sin against her was
in not making the fact public. He was just starting on a tour abroad and
persuaded her to go with him. He claimed that he could not openly marry
her without forfeiting a large fortune from an aunt, whose only heir he
was, and who was determined that he should marry the daughter of a
life-long friend. She was in feeble health and wanted him to be married
before he went abroad, as she feared she might not live until he should
come back. This he refused to do, although he allowed her to believe that
he intended to marry Miss Barton upon his return. But he did marry your
mother, and they sailed for Europe.

"They spent a few months traveling together, but while they were in
Paris, your father suddenly disappeared, and it became evident to your
mother that she had been deserted. To make matters worse, the people
of the house where they had been living became suspicious of her, accused
her of having been living unlawfully, and drove her away. She was
desperate, and went directly to London, intending to return to America,
but was taken ill there, and was unable to go on.

"Three months later I learned, indirectly, of her wretched condition, and
I hastened to her, as I have already told you, only to find that I was
too late--she had died just three days before my arrival, and only a few
hours after your birth. Oh, Mona! I was heartbroken, for she was all I
had, and the knowledge of her wrongs and sufferings drove me nearly wild;
but--I cannot live over those wretched days--I simply _endured_ them then
because I could not help myself. But, as time passed, I gradually learned
to love _you_--you became my one object in life, and I vowed that I would
do everything in my power to make your life happy, for your mother's
sake, as well as for your own," he concluded in tremulous, husky tones,
while tears stood in his eyes.

"Dear Uncle Walter, no one could have been more kin