Mona Forester, how I hated you!--how I hate your daughter, even though
I have never seen her!--how I almost hate that girl up stairs for her
strange resemblance to you. I would have sent her out of the house long
ago for it, if she had not been so good and faithful a seamstress, and
needful to me in many ways. She, herself, saw the resemblance to that
picture--By the way," she interposed, with a start, "I wonder if she
obeyed me about that crayon the other day! If she didn't--if she kept it
I shall be tempted to believe--I'll find out, anyhow."

With a somewhat anxious look on her face, the woman hurried up stairs to
her room.

Upon reaching it she rang an imperative peal upon her bell.

Mary presently made her appearance, and one quick glance told her that
something had gone wrong with her mistress.

"Bring me a pitcher of ice-water," curtly commanded Mrs. Montague. "And,
Mary--"

"Yes, marm."

"Did Miss Richards give you a torn picture the other day?"

"Yes, marm," answered the girl, flushing, "she said you wanted it
burned."

"Did you burn it?"

"N-o, marm, somehow I couldn't make up my mind to put it in the fire; it
was such a pretty face, and so like Miss Richards, and I've been wanting
a picture of her ever since she came here, only I thought maybe she'd
resent it if I asked her for one; and so I pasted it together as well as
I could, and tacked it up in my room," the girl explained, volubly, and
concluded by meekly adding: "I hope there was no harm in it, marm."

"You may bring it to me," was all the reply that Mrs. Montague vouchsafed
her attendant; and Mary, looking rather crestfallen, withdrew to obey the
command.

"It is a shame to burn it," she muttered, as she took down the defaced
picture, and slowly returned down stairs; "but I'm glad Miss Ruth gave it
to me before she asked for it."

Mrs. Montague sprang up the moment the girl entered the room, and
snatching the portrait from her hands, dashed it upon the bed of glowing
coals in the grate.

"When I give an order I want it obeyed," she said, imperiously. "Now go
and bring me the water."

Mary withdrew again, wondering what could have happened to make her
mistress so out of sorts, and finally came to the conclusion that the
lawyer must have brought her bad news.

"There! that is the last of that!" Mrs. Montague said, as she watched the
flames curl about the beautiful face in the grate. "I'm glad the girl
didn't keep the picture hersel