"You are very good," she said, as she arose to take her leave; "but really, as I have said before, I am not so anxious to secure property as I am to know more about my parents. Do you suppose," she questioned, with some anxiety, "that the enmity between my uncle and my father was so bitter that—that Uncle Walter was in any way responsible for his—my father's—death?"
"Poor child! have you had that terrible fear to contend against with all your other troubles?" asked Mr. Corbin, in a tone of compassion. "No, Miss Montague," he added, with grave positiveness, "I do not believe that Walter Dinsmore—and I knew him well—ever willfully committed a wrong against any human being. Now," he resumed, smiling, to see the look of trouble fade out of her eyes at his assurance, "I am going to try to ferret out the 'mystery' for you. Come to me again in a week, and I believe I shall have something definite to tell you."
Mona thanked him, after which he shook hands cordially with her, and she returned to West Forty-ninth street.
"Well, well!" muttered the lawyer, after his fair client had departed, "so that is Dinsmore's niece, who was to have had his fortune, if he could have had his way about it! I wonder what Madame Dinsmore would say if she knew that I had taken her husband's protégée as a client! It is a burning shame that she could not have had his money, if it was his wish—or at least a share of it. Poor little girl! after living in such luxury all her life, to have to come down to such a humdrum existence as sewing for a living! I will do my best for her—I will at least try to secure Homer Forester's money to her. It's strange, too, that I should happen to have dealings with the brilliant Mrs. Montague, also. It's a very queer case and there is a deep scheme behind it all! I believe—"
What he might have believed remained unsaid, for the office-boy entered at that moment and announced another client, and the astute lawyer was obliged to turn his attention, for the time, in another direction.
CHAPTER IV.
MR. CORBIN MAKES A CALL.
On the evening of the same day that Mona visited the office of Corbin & Russel, attorneys at law, and shortly after Mrs. Montague had finished her lonely dinner—for her nephew was away on business—there came a sharp ring at the door of No.—West Forty-ninth street.
Mary answered it, and, after ushering the gentleman into the reception-room, went to her mistress to inform her that a caller was waiting below.
"Erastus Corbin," Mrs. Montague read, as she took the neat card from the salver, and her face lighted with sudden interest.