But no, it was not Ray.
She saw instead an elderly gentleman, of benevolent and genial appearance, who seemed to be a valued friend of the family, judging from the enthusiastic greeting which his host accorded him.
"Well, well, Palmer, you are rather late in the week, but none the less welcome on that account," remarked Mr. Wellington. "We have been having gay times, and I have only needed your presence to make my enjoyment complete. But where is that precious son of yours? How is it that Raymond did not come with you?"
Mona held her breath at this.
The question had told her that the new arrival was Ray's father, and that the young man had also been invited to join the gay company that was sojourning beneath the hospitable roof.
She leaned farther over the railing that she might not fail to catch Mr.
Palmer's reply.
"Oh," answered that gentleman, as he removed his overcoat and gloves,
"Ray is not yet quite as strong as we could wish, although he calls
himself well, and he feels hardly equal to much dissipation as yet.
Besides, he is rather depressed just now."
"Over the affair of the diamonds, I suppose?" Mr. Wellington observed.
"Yes, and—some other matter that troubles him."
"I am very sorry. I was depending upon him to help amuse some of our fair young guests," said his host. Then he added, with considerable interest: "Any new developments regarding that remarkable robbery?"