"Where have you lived, Miss Montague, since the death of your parents?"
he inquired.

"Here in New York, with my uncle."

"Ah! and who was your uncle, if you please?" and the man seemed to await
her reply with almost breathless interest.

"Mr. Dinsmore--Walter Dinsmore."

The lawyer sat suddenly erect, and drew in a long breath, while his keen
eyes seemed to be trying to read the girl's very soul.

He did not speak for nearly a minute; then he said, with his usual
composure:

"So, then, you are the niece of Walter Dinsmore, Esq., who died recently,
and whose property was claimed by a--a wife who had lived separate from
him for a good many years."

Mona flushed hotly at this remark. It seemed almost like a stain upon her
uncle's fair name to have his domestic affairs spoken of in this way, and
she had been very sore over the revelation that he had had a discarded
wife living.

"Yes, sir," she briefly responded, but with an air of dignity that caused
a gleam of amusement to leap to the lawyer's eyes.

"Well--it is very queer," he remarked, musingly, while his eyes traveled