She carried out her mistress' instructions to the letter, and Mr. Louis Hamblin, observing the disposition of his expensive gifts, imagined that the pretty seamstress herself had taken this way to reject them.
The measure angered him, and only made him more resolute to conquer
Mona's indifference and pride.
"By Jove!" he said to himself, as he gazed frowningly upon the discarded blossoms, "I believe I am really becoming interested in the proud little beauty, and I must find some other way to bring her around. It is evident that she recognizes the social distance between us, and wishes me to understand it. Perhaps, however, with a little judicious coaxing of a different character, I may win her to a more friendly mood."
He waylaid Mona several times after that, while she was out walking, but, though she never forgot to conduct herself in the most lady-like manner she plainly indicated by her coldness and reserve that she did not care to cultivate Mr. Hamblin's acquaintance.
This opposition to his wishes only made him the more persistent, and added zest to his pursuit of her.
The girl's exquisite beauty and grace—her high-bred self-possession and polished manner—impressed him as he had never been impressed before, even by the society girls whom he was in the habit of meeting, and Kitty McKenzie's charms grew pale and dim beside the brighter and more perfect loveliness of this dainty sewing-girl.
When Mona found that the young man persisted in following her and forcing his society upon her, she changed the time of her daily walk to an hour when she knew he would be down town, and she also took care to go in different directions, thus successfully avoiding him for some time.
But fortune favored him later on.
One morning Mrs. Montague came into the sewing-room all animation, and beaming with smiles.
"Ruth, I am going to ask a great favor of you," she said: "I wonder if you will oblige me."