MONA.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LI, Issue 12661, 15 September 1904, Page 3

M ONA.

BY MHS. GEOEGIB SHELDON, Author of "Trixy." "Brownie's Trinmpli," " Earle Wayne's Nobility," '* Queen Bess," *' The Forsaken Bride." " Ilis Heart's Queen,'" etc., etc. CHAPTER XLIV. MRS. MONTAGUE TELLS HER STORT. "What is it, Mona?" Ray inqiured, as he went to her side. " You may be very sure that I will second your wishes if they are wise and do not interfere in any way with your interests." Mona briefly repeated what she had already proposed to the lawyers, and Ray immediately responded that it was also his wish and his fathers that as far as they were concerned all public proceedings against Mi's. Montague should be suspended. Come with me to another room where we can converse more freely," he added, " for I have a proposition to make to you in my father's name. Mr. Rider," raising his voice and addressing the detective, " will vou allow Mrs. Montague to remain alone with Miss Diusmore for a little while, as I wish to confer with you upon a matter of importance J" The detective took a swift survey of the room before answering. It was evident that he had no intention of allowing his captive to escape him now after all his previous efforts to secure her. "Yes," he replied. "I will go with you into the hall if that will do." He knew that- in the hall he should be able to keep his eyes upon both doors of the drawing-room, and no one could pass in or out without his knowing it, while there was no other way of egress. The Tour gentlemen accordingly withdrew, thus leaving Mona and Mrs. Montague by themselves. Mona" seated herself by a window, and as far as possible from the woman, for she shrank with the greatest aversion from her, while she felt that her own presence must be oppressive and full of reproach to her. But the woman's curiosity was for the moment greater than her anxiety or remorse, and after a brief silence she abruptly inquired: "How did that detective find that box of diamonds?" "He did not find them. I accidentally discovered them," Mona replied. " You! What were you prowling about in my room for''" crossly demanded Mrs. Montague. "I waa simply looking for a pair of scissors which I'left there the day before we went South. But why did you lock me in the room, for I suppose it was you?" Because I was desperate," was the defiant response. "I had just learned how you had escaped from Louis, but I had not a thought of finding you here. When 1 saw you in my room, however, a great fear came over me that you would yet prove my ruin. I imagined that vou had just arrived in New York, and had come here to take away your things, and were perhaps searching in* my room xor proofs of your identity, So, on the impulse of the moment I locked you in, intending to make my own terms with you before I let you go." " Did you suppose, after my experience in New Orleans, that I would*trust myself with you without letting someone know where I could be found?" Mona quietly asked.

"If I hod stopped to think I might have known that you would not,'' the woman said, sullenly.* " But how did you get out of that hotel in Havana?" " Mr. Justin Cutler assisted me." Mrs. Montague flushed hotly at the mention of that name. " Yes, I know, but how?" she said. Mona briefly ' explained the maimer of her escape, then inquired in a voice of grave reproach: " How could you conspire against me in such a way'/ How could you aid your nephew in so foul a wrong?" "I have already told you—to make our fortune secure," was the cool retort. Mona shuddered. It seemed such a heartless thing to do, to plan the ruin of a homeless, unprotected girl for the sake of money. Mrs. Montague noticed and smiled bitterly. " You surely did not suppose I bore you any love, did you?" she sneered. "I have told you how I hated your mother, and it is but natural that the feeling should manifest itself against her child, especially as you both had usurped the affections of my husband." " Such a spirit is utterly beyond my comprehension," gravely said the young girl, "when your only possible reason for such hatred of a beautiful girl was that my father loved and married her." "Well, and wasn't that enough?" hotly exclaimed Mrs. Montague. "For fears Walter Dinsmore's aunt had intended that he should marry me—-that was the condition upon which he was to have her fortune— and I had been reared with that expectation. Therefore, it was no light grief when I learned by accident three weeks after he sailed for Europe that he., married a girl who had comu to New York to earn her living as a milliner. They went abroad together and registered as Mr. and Mrs. Richmond Montague. I was wild, frantic, desperate, when I discovered it ; but I kept the matter to myself. I did not wish Miss Dinsmore to learn the fact, for I had a plan in my mind which I hoped might yet serve to give me the position I so coveted. I persuaded Miss Dinsmore that it would be wise to let me follow Walter to Europe, and I promised her that if such a thing were possible I would return as his wife. Six weeks after he sailed with his 'bride I also left for Europe with some friends. I kept track of the unsuspicious couple for four months, but it was not until they settled in Paris for the winter that I had an opportunity to put any of my plans into action."

"If you please, Mrs. Montague, I would rather you would not tell me any more," Mona here interrupted, with a shiver of repulsion. " My father wrote out the whole Story, and so I know all about it. You accomplished your purpose and wrecked the life of a pure and beautiful woman—a loved and loving wife; but truly I believe if my mother could speak to-day she would say that she would far rather have suffered the wrong and wretchedness to which she was subjected than to have exchanged places with you." " Do you dare to twit me of my present extremity and misery?" cried Mrs. Montague, angrily, " Not at all; I was not thinking of these later wrongs of which you have been guilty," Mona gently returned, " but only of the ruin which you wrought in the lives of my father and mother. ' I cannot think that you were happy even after you had succeeded in your wretched plots." " Happy !" repeated the woman, with great bitterness. " For two years I was the most miserable creature on earth. I will tell it, and you shall listen ; you shall hear my side of the story," she went on, fiercely, as she noticed that Mona was restless under the recital. "As I said before, when they settled in Paris for the winter, I began to develop my plans. I went to a skilful costumier, and provided myself with a complete disguise, then hired a room in the same house, although I took care to keep out of the sight of Walter Dinsmore and his wife. One day he went out of the city on a hunting excursion, and met with an accident—he fell and sprained his ankle, and lay in the forest for hours in great pain. He was finally found by some peasants, who bore him to their cottage and kindly cared for him. His first thought was, of course, for his wife, and he sent a messenger with a letter to her, telling of his injury. I savv the man when he rode' to the door. I instinctively knew there was ill news. I said I knew Mrs. Montague, and I would deliver the letter. I opened and read it, and saw that my opportunity had come. Walter Dinsmore, with manv sickening protestations of love, wrote of his accident, and said it would be some time before he should be able to return to Paris, but he wished that she would take a comfortable carriage the next day and -ome to him if she felt able to do so. Of course I never delivered the letter, but the next day I went to Mona Forester, and told her that her lover had deserted her; that she was no wife, for their marriage had been but a farce; that he had nob even given her his real name; that he was already weary of her, and she would never see him again, for he was pledged to marry one as toon as he should return to America. " At first she would not believe one word of it—she had til© ut»ast/ epspteace in the

man she idolised but as the days went by and he did not return she began to fear there was some foundation for my statements. Then a few cunning suggestions to the landlord and hi 3 wife poisoned their minds against her. They accused her of having been living in their house in an unlawful manner and drove her out of it with anger and scorn. "She left on the fifth day after Walters accident, and I hired the butler of the house to go with her and make it appear as if she had eloped with him. He carried out my instructions so faithfully that their sudden flitting had every appearance of the flight of a pair of lovers. When Walter received no answer from his wife, and she did not go to him, as he requested, he became very anxious, and insisted upon returning to Paris, in spite of his injury. Immediately upon his arrival he was told that his lady had eloped with the butler of the house, and the angry landlord compelled him to quit the place also. " I did not set eyes on him again for more than two years, when he returned at Miss Dinsmore's earnest request, for she had not long to live. He did not seem like the same man, and apparently had no interest in life. When Miss Dinsmore, on her deathbed, begged him to let her see the consummation of her one desire, he listlessly consented, and we were married in her presence, and she died in less than a month. Then lie confessed his former marriage to me and told me that he had a child ; that her home must be with us, and to escape all scandal and remark we would go to the far West. I was furious over this revelation,, but I concealed thv fact from him, for I loved him with all mv soul, and I would have adopted a dozen children if by so doing I could have won his heart. I consented to have you in the family, provided that you should be reared as his niece, and never be told of your parentage. He replied, with exceeding bitterness, that he was not anxious that Ms child should grow up to hate her father for his lack of faith in her mother, and his deep injustice to her. " We went to San Francisco to live, but I hated vou even more bitterly than I had hated your mother, and every caress which I saw my husband lavish upon you was like a poisoned dagger in my heart. But he never knew it—he never knew that I had had anything to do with the tragedy of his life until more than a year after our marriage. "My own child— little girl—was bom about ten months after that event; but she did not live, and this only served to make me more oitter against you; for, although my husband professed to feel great sorrow that she could nob have lived to be* a comfort to us and a companion to you, I knew that he would never have loved her with the peculiar tenderness which he always manifested toward you. " When your mother fled from him and Paris she left everything that he had lavished upon her save what clothing she needed and money to defray necessary expenses during the next few months; and so, after my marriage. I found pocketed away among some old clothing belonging to my husband the keepsakes that he had given to her and also their marriage certificate. I took possession of them, for I resolved that if yon should outlive your father you should never have anything to prove that you were his child; if I could not have my husband's heart I would at least have his money.

" One day, a little over a year afer our marriage, on my return from a. drive, I was 'told that a man was waiting in the library to see me. Without a suspicion of coming evil I went at once to ascertain his errand, and was horrified to find there the butler— the man whom I had hired to act as your mother's escort to London. He had been hunting for me for three years to extort more money from me, and had finally traced me from New York to San Francisco. "He demanded another large sum from me. It was in vain that I wild him I had paid him generously for the service he bad rendered me. He insisted that I must come to his terms or lie would reveal everything to my husband. Of course I yielded to that threat, and paid him the sum he demanded, but I might have saved the money, for Walter Dinsmore, who had that morning started for Oakland for the day, but changed bis mind ami returned while 1 was out, waa sitting in a small alcove leading out of the library, and had heard the whole conversation. " "Of course, there was a terrible scene, and he obliged me to confess everything, although he had heard enough to enable him to comprehend the whole, and then lie sternly repudiated me ; but, scorning the scandal" which would attend proceedings for a divorce, he gave me a meagre stipend for separate maintenance, and told me he never wished to look upon my face again. He settled his business, sold his property, and returned to New York with you "and your nurse, leaving me to my fate. He forbade me to live under the name of Dinsmore, but I would not resume my maiden name, and so adopted that of Mrs. Richmond Montague. But I still treasured that certificate and my own also, for I meant, if I should outlive him, to claim his fortune, and also kept myself pretty well posted regarding hi.s movements. "Shortly after our separation my only sister died, and her son, Louis, was thus left destitute, and an orphan. I believed that I could make him useful to me, so I adopted him. We have roved a great deal, for we have had to eke out my limited income by the use of our wits. My best game, though, was with the crescent*;, which Miss Dinsmore gave me as a wedding present, and which L had duplicated several times. Early last fall we came to New York, for, in spite of all the past, I still loved Walter Dinsmore, and longed to be near him. I felt as if the fates had favoured me when I heard that he had died without making his will, and I knew from the fact that you were known only as bis niece, Miss Mona Montague, that you must still be in ignorance of your real relationship toward him. So it was comparatively easy for me to establish my claim to his property. I did not appear personally in the matter, for I was leading quite a brilliant career here as Mrs. Richmond Montague, and T did not wish to figure as the discarded wife of Walter Dinsmore, so no one save Mr. Corbin even suspected my identity. If Walter Dinsmore had never written that miserable confession, or if I had at once turned all. his property into money and gone abroad, or to California, 1 need never have been brought to this. As matters stand now, however, I suppose you will claim everything," she concluded, with a sullen frown. Mona simply replied in a cold, resolute tone, "I certainly feel that I am entitled to tht property which my father wished me to have." " Indeed! then you have changed your mind since the night when you no indignantly affirmed to Louis that you did not wish to profit by so much as a dollar from the man who had so wronged your mother," sneered her companion, bitterly. " Certainly," calmly returned Mona,, "now that I know the truth. My father did my mother no wilful wrong, althougn in his morbid grief and sensitiveness he imputed such wrong to himself, and never ceased to reproach himself for it. You allone," Mona. continued, with stern denunciation, " are guilty of the ruin of their happiness and lives; you alone will have to answer for it. You have been a very wicked woman, Mrs. Montague, not only in connection with your schemes regarding them, but in your corruption of the morals of your nephew. I should suppose your conscience would never cease to reproach you for having reared him to such a life of crime. You will have to answer for that also." Mrs. Montague shivered visibly at these words, thus betraying that she was not altogether indifferent to her accountability. But she quickly threw off the feeling, or the outward appearance of it, and tossing her head defiantly, she remarked ; "I do not know who has made you my mentor, Miss Dinsmore ; but there is one thing more that I wish you to explain to mehow came that detective to be in my house?" " He was passing in the street, aud I asked him. to come in," Mona replied. " Indeed and where, pray, did you make the acquaintance of the high-toned Mr. Rider?" sarcastically inquired Mrs. Montague. In St. Louis." "In St. Louis!" the woman repeated, astonished. "Yes. You doubtless remember the day that I rode with you and your nephew in the street car, when you were both disguised.' "Yes, but did you know us at that time?" " No; I only recognised the dress you had on." " Ah» What a fool I was ever to wear it the second time," sighed the wretched woSmajij, regretfully.

" I knew it was very like in both colour and texture the piece of goods that Mr. Palmer had once shown me. I was almost sure when I saw that it had been mended tha. it was the eame dress that Mrs. Vanderbeck had worn when she stole the Palmer diamonds, and immediately telegraphed to have the fragment sent to me." " And Ray Palmer had it and had kept it all that time?" interposed Mrs. Montague, with a frown. "I hunted everywhere for it." " He sent it to me by the next mail, and I began my hunt for the dress, although at that time I did not suspect that it belonged to you," Mona continued. Then she explained how, while assisting the chambermaid about her work, she had found the garment hanging in a wardrobe, and proved by fitting the fragment to the rent that her suspicions were correct. " You will also remember," she added, " how you eluded me a little later for going out without consulting you. I had been out to seek a detective to tell him what I had discovered." " Ha! that was how you made Mr. Rider's acquaintance?" interrupted Mrs. Montague, with a start. " Yes. He told me he was in St. Louis on business connected with that very case. He was very much elated after hearing my story, but when he went to make his arrest he found that Mrs. Walton and her so-called son had both disappeared. I was, of course, very much disappointed, but I never dreamed—" " That I and my hopeful nephew were the accomplished sharpers," supplemented Mrs. Montague, with a. bitter laugh. "Well, Mona Dinsmore, you have been very keen. I will give you credit for —you have beaten me ; I confess that 3*oll have utterly defeated me, and your mother is amply avenged through you. No doubt, you are very triumphant over my downfall," she concluded, acrimoniously. Indeed, I am not," Mona returned, with a. sigh. "I do not think I could triumph in the downfall of anyone, and though I am filled with horror over what you have told me, I am very sorry for you." " Sony for me?" repeated the woman, with sceptical contempt. " Yes, I am truly sorry for you, and' for anyone who has fallen so low, for I am sure you must have seasons of suffering and remorse that are very hard to bear, while as for avenging my mother, I never had such a thought; Ido not believe she would wish me to entertain any such spirit. I intend to assert my rights, as my father's daughter, but not with any desire for revenge." Manas remarks were here suddenly cut short by the return of the four gentlemen, and Mrs. Montague eagerly and searchingly scanned their faces as they gravely resumed their seats.

CHAPTER XLV. MES. MONTAGUE'S ANNUITY. Mona, too, regarded the lawyers with some anxiety., for she felt extremely sensitive about having her father's troubles and past life become the .subject of a. public scandal. Kay noticed it, and telegraphed her a gleam of hope from his tender eyes. The proposition which he had made to the lawyers upon leaving the room was in accordance with his father's request. Mr. Palmer had begged that all proceedings in the case of the robbery might be quashed. "I would rather lose three times the amount that woman stole from us than to have all New York know the wretched truth," he said to Ray, after calling him from the drawiugroom., "To have it known that' she robbed us and then tried to fortify herself by a. marriage with me! I could not bear it. I have made a fool of myself, Ray," lie went on, with pitiable humility, " but I don't want everybody discussing the mortifying details of the affair. If you can prevail upon the lawyers to settle everything quietly, do so, and of course Rider, being a private detective, and in our pay, will do as we say, and, my boy, you and I will ignore the subject, after this, for all time."' Ray grasped his father's hand in heartfelt sympathy as he replied : " We will manage to hush the matter, never fear. lam very sure that Mona, will also desire to do so, and though I should be glad to have that woman reap the full reward of her wickedness, I can forego that satisfaction for the sake of saving her feelings and yours." Then, as we know, he returned to the drawingroom, where Mona called to him to come and plead for the same .thing. The lawyers were both willing, for'Mona's sake, to refrain from active proceedings against Mrs. Montague if she would resign all Mr. Dinemore's property ; but Mr. Rider objected very emphatically to this plan. " It has been a very tough case," he said, somewhat obstinately, "and it is no more than fair that a man should have the glory of working it up. Money isn't everything to a person in such business —reputation is worth considerable." They had quite a spirited argument with him: but he yielded the point at last, provided Mr. Cutler would consent, although not with a very good grace, and then th«y all went back to Mona and her unhappy companion. (To be concluded to-morrow.) " THE COMING OF THE KING " An Entrancing Romance BY MR. JOSEPH HOCKING. The opening chapters of this grand story, by one of the most popular writers of the clay, will be given next Saturday. "THE COMING OF THE KING" is a charming story: it is strikingly original, opens up new ground, and is full of surprises from beginning to end. Be sure and get the New Zf.alavd Herald next Saturday, with the opening chapters of "THE COMING OF THE KING."