"You have known it for some time?" Ray exclaimed. "For how long, pray?"

"Ever since we were at Hazeldean."

"Impossible! for my father did not make his proposal until after our
return to New York."

"But she certainly told me the night of the ball, when she came up stairs
to retire, that she expected to marry Mr. Palmer," Mona returned, and
flushing at the memory of that conversation, which, however, she had been
too proud to repeat to her lover.

"Well, she may have expected to marry him, and I imagine that his own
mind was pretty well made up at that time," said Ray, gloomily, "but the
matter was not settled until after our return, as I said before, and the
engagement is to be formally announced this afternoon at the high-tea
given by Mrs. Montague."

Ah! this explained to Mona what had puzzled her just before leaving
home--why Mrs. Montague had once or twice appeared embarrassed during
their conversation, why she had abruptly paused in the midst of that last
sentence, and why, too, she had been so unusually particular about her
personal appearance for a home-reception.

She mentioned these circumstances to Ray, and asked, in conclusion, if he
were also invited to the high-tea.

"Yes; but, really, I am so heart-sick over the affair I feel as
if I cannot go. I am utterly at a loss to understand this strange