to her real character."

"Such women are capable of doing a great deal of harm. Oh, Ray, I believe
that society ruins a great many people. Perhaps it was well that my
career in it was so suddenly terminated," Mona remarked, gravely.

Ray smiled fondly down upon her.

"I do not believe it could ever have harmed you very much," he said,
tenderly; "but I believe very many young people are unfitted for the
higher duties of life where they give themselves up to society to
such an extent as they do here in New York; it is such a shallow, unreal
kind of life. We will be social--you and I, Mona, when we make a home for
ourselves; we will be truly hospitable and entertain our friends for the
good that we can get and give, but not merely for the sake of show and of
being 'in the swim.'"

The smile and look which concluded these observations brought the quick
blood to the cheeks of the fair girl, and made another pair of eyes,
which were peering at them through the palms and ferns, flash with
malicious anger and jealousy.

"I have so few friends now, Ray, I fear we shall not have many to
entertain," Mona replied, a little sadly.

"I do not believe you know how many you really have, dear. You
disappeared from social life so suddenly, leaving everybody in the dark
regarding your whereabouts, that very few had an opportunity to prove
their friendship," Ray said, soothingly. "However," he added, his fine
lips curling a trifle, "we shall know how to treat those who have met and