This only served to increase her ill humor.
"There! now I cannot wear this dress at dinner to-day," she cried, flushing angrily over the mishap, "for the frill is ruined."
"Haven't you something else that you can use in its place?" Mona quietly asked.
"No; nothing looks as well on this corsage as these wide, fleecy frills of crape lisse. It is the only dress, too, that I have not already worn here, and I was depending upon it for to-day," was the irritable response.
Mona thought she had plenty of laces and ruffles that would have answered very well, and which might easily have been substituted, but she did not think it best to make any further suggestions to her in her present mood.
"I know what I can do," Mrs. Montague continued, after a moment, in a milder tone. "I saw some ruffling very nearly like this in a milliner's window at Rhinebeck, when I was out riding on Saturday. There are some other little things that I shall want for this evening, and you may take a walk by and by to get them for me."
Rhinebeck was a full mile away, and Mrs. Montague could easily have arranged to have Mona ride, for a carriage was sent every morning for the mail; but it did not occur to her to do so, or if it did, she evidently did not care to put herself to that trouble.
Mona, however, did not mind the walk—indeed, on the whole, she was rather glad of the privilege of getting out by herself into the sunshine which was so in harmony with her own bright mood. Still she could not help feeling that it was rather inconsiderate of Mrs. Montague to require her to walk two miles simply to gratify a mere whim.
It was about nine o'clock when she started out upon her errand, and as she ran down the steps and out upon the broad avenue, her bright eyes went glancing eagerly about, for Mona had secretly hoped that she might catch a glimpse of and perhaps even secure a few words with her lover.
But Ray was nowhere visible, being just at that moment in the smoking-room with several other gentlemen.