At first she could not seem to remember what had happened, for her mind was weak and confused. Then gradually all that had occurred came back to her.
She shivered and tried feebly to rub something of natural warmth into her chilled hands, then suddenly losing all self-control, she bowed her face upon them, and burst into a passion of tears.
"Oh, if I had only known before," she murmured over and over again, with unspeakable regret.
But she was worn out, and this excitement could not last.
She made an effort to regain her composure, gathered up the scattered sheets of her uncle's letter, restoring them to the envelope, and then took up the other package which was bound with a scarlet ribbon.
There were half a dozen or more letters and all superscribed in a bold, handsome hand.
"They are my father's letters to my mother," Mona murmured, "but I have no strength to read them to-night."
She put them back, with the other things, into the secret drawer in the mirror, which she restored to its box, and then carefully packed it away in her trunk, with all her clothing except what she wished to put on in the morning.
"I shall go back to New York to-morrow," she said, with firmly compressed lips, as the last thing was laid in its place. "I cannot remain another day in the service of such a woman; and, since I have now learned everything, there is no need; I must go back to Ray and—happiness."
A tender smile wreathed her lips as she prepared to retire, but she could not sleep after she was in bed, even though she was weak and exhausted from the excitement of the last few hours, for her nerves throbbed and tingled with every beat of her pulses, and it was not until near morning that slumber came to her relief.