Excitement over the discovery that Louis Hamblin had really been in
earnest when he had made love to her at Hazeldean, and indignation that
he should still presume to think that she would marry him after the
decided rebuff she had given him at that time. She was also astonished
that Mrs. Montague should propose such a thing after what she had said,
on the night of the ball, about her "angling for Ray Palmer, and
imagining herself to be his equal in any respect."

Then she grew very pale with a sudden suspicion. Perhaps Mrs. Montague
had discovered who she was, possibly Mr. Corbin had been to her to
question her, and had aroused her suspicions that she was Mona Montague,
and she was plotting to marry her to her nephew in order to keep her
fortune in the family, and thus tie Mona's hands to render her incapable
of mischief.

These thoughts inspired her with fresh hope and courage, for she told
herself that if this was the woman's object, there must be some proofs
in existence that her mother's marriage with Richmond Montague had been
legal.

But Mrs. Montague was waiting for some answer, and she could not stop to
consider these points very fully now.

"I thank you," she said, trying hard to curb the scorn that was surging
fiercely within her, "but I shall be obliged to decline a union with Mr.
Hamblin--I could never become his wife."

"Why not, pray?" sharply demanded her companion.

"Because I believe that marriage should never be contracted without
mutual love, and I do not love Mr. Hamblin," Mona returned, with cold
positiveness.

"Really?" Mrs. Montague sneered, with a frowning brow, "one would suppose
that a person in your position--a poor seamstress--would be only too glad
to marry a handsome young man with Louis' prospects--for he will
eventually inherit my fortune if he out-lives me."

"Then, perhaps, it will be a surprise to you to learn that there is one
poor seamstress in the world who does not regard marriage with a rich
young man as the most desirable end to be achieved in life," Mona
responded, with quiet sarcasm.

Mrs. Montague grew crimson with anger.

"Then you would not marry my nephew if he should offer himself to you?"
she indignantly inquired.

"No, madame; I could not. With all due appreciation of the honor intended
me, I should be obliged to decline it."

The girl spoke with the utmost respect and courtesy, yet there was a
slight inflection upon certain words which irritated Mrs. Mo