He turned again to his desk as he spoke, unlocked and pulled out a drawer.
"Would you like this?" he asked, as he uncovered a box about eight inches square.
"Why, it is a mirror! and what a queer one!" exclaimed the maiden, as she bent forward to look, and found her lovely, earnest face reflected from a square, slightly defaced mirror that was set in an ebony frame richly inlaid with gold and pearl.
"Yes, dear, and it once belonged to Marie Antoinette. Doubtless it reflected her face many times during the latter half of the last century, as it now reflects yours, my Mona," said Mr. Dinsmore.
"To Marie Antoinette?" repeated Mona, breathlessly, "to the Queen of
France? and would you give it to me—me, Uncle Walter?"
"Yes, I have kept it for you many years, dear," the man answered, but turning away from her eager, delighted eyes and glowing face, as if something in them smote him with sudden pain.
"Oh! thank you, thank you! It is a priceless gift. What can I say? How can I show you how delighted I am?" Mona cried, eagerly.
"By simply accepting it and taking good care of it, and also by giving me your promise that you will never part with it while you live," Mr. Dinsmore gravely replied.
"Of course I would never part with it," the young girl returned, flushing. "The mere fact of your giving it to me would make it precious, not to mention that it is a royal mirror and once belonged to that beautiful but ill-fated queen. How did it happen to come into your possession, Uncle Walter?"
The man grew pale at this question, but after a moment he replied, though with visible effort: